#rob x molly

[castlingvanias]

miscellaneous robmollies some human some random

[cutiefangz]

molly posting (some old some new)

[momentomori24]

Rewatching episode 68 of Sonic X (because I love the more Shadow/Rouge centred episodes and want to take in their characterisation in the anime) and it's kinda driving me nuts knowing Molly originally dies while having to sit there and watch 4Kids pretend that she just flew away in the end by cutting out a major scene and rewriting the script to omit that fact 💀 Like NO, she died fighting for the cause she dedicated her life to, which leaves Shadow and Rouge to mourn her and gives more context to Shadow's determination to destroy the Materex and by extension Cosmo. What have you done.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[messrmoonyy]

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold. 

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place. 

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid. 

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party. 

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more. 

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery. 

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “ 

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back. 

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl. 

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress. 

Always the gentleman. 

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too. 

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued. 

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “ 

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “ 

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you. 

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly. 

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did 

“ distinguished my ass “ 

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways. 

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow. 

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like. 

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates 

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over. 

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire. 

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course. 

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “ 

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear. 

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment. 

“ that’s my girl “ 

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had. 

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money. 

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham. 

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on. 

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over. 

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you. 

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats. 

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again. 

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t. 

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices. 

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night. 

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it. 

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates. 

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod 

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you. 

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs. 

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party. 

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be. 

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy. 

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people. 

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them. 

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help. 

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days. 

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering. 

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one. 

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest. 

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished. 

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds. 

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house. 

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other. 

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition. 

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about. 

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you. 

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice. 

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels. 

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming. 

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed. 

“ good girl “ 

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had. 

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them. 

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little. 

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “ 

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused. 

“ yeah? About what? “ 

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “ 

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head 

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again. 

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair 

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “ 

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you. 

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were. 

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you. 

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth. 

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face. 

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you. 

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face 

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband. 

He’d ask you one day. 

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return. 

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.  

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again. 

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain. 

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.  

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt. 

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch 

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan. 

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “ 

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music. 

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house. 

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along. 

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters. 

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that. 

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist. 

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “ 

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “ 

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head. 

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “ 

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons. 

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “ 

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck 

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “ 

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening. 

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “ 

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins. 

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel. 

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp. 

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room. 

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him. 

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him. 

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist. 

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away. 

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head. 

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location. 

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well. 

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking. 

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy. 

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on. 

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him. 

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs. 

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine. 

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm. 

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“ 

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure. 

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him. 

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit. 

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper. 

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already. 

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings. 

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle. 

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too. 

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted. 

And wouldn’t that be a tale. 

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants. 

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt. 

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins. 

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. 

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too. 

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too. 

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch. 

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could. 

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches. 

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard. 

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you. 

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice. 

“ y’think so? “ 

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too. 

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him. 

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath. 

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him. 

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired. 

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait. 

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did. 

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing. 

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “ 

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall. 

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush. 

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “ 

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you” 

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless. 

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect. 

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer. 

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter. 

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock. 

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up. 

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days. 

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose. 

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed. 

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself. 

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure. 

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it. 

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek 

“ mhm sure “ 

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too 

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

[mandoalorian]

delicate

Pairing: High honour Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: When Arthur and the gang are out in Valentine, you can’t help but notice that he left his journal by his bedside, unattended. You’re aware that Arthur is never careless enough to leave something so valuable to him in camp and see you see it as an opportunity. Upon reading his journal, you discover something that changes everything…

Word count: 2,000

Author’s note: My first Arthur fic! It’s been a long time coming. This is also cross-posted on my AO3. I do not consent to my fics being posted anywhere else, or translated without permission. If you enjoyed this fic please reblog as it helps increase support!<3

Masterlist 

You saw it as an opportunity.

Arthur, John, Micah, Javier and Sadie were out in Valentine, following Dutch’s well-convoluted plan to rob the local bank. They’d been gone for three hours already and with Micah part of the team, you dreaded to think how they were getting on. Dutch and Hosea had gone to scout out a manor northwest of Lemoyne, in Scarlet Meadows. Hosea was following a lead he’d heard from a guy at Emerald Ranch – that apparently, a well-off family were residing over there. An excellent opportunity for a cash grab, Dutch was also sure. Lately, any possibility of getting money, Dutch got excited over. You didn’t understand why because the ledger appeared more filled out than ever. Perhaps it was merely nothing more than a sin of greed, although you were in no position to question it. 

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen were doing laundry as Miss Grimshaw supervised, and Miss Molly O’Shea was napping in Dutch’s cot. She’d been sleeping a lot recently, you’d noticed. Uncle was nowhere in sight, probably sleeping or drunk or getting himself killed by Raiders. And Abigail was with Jack, nursing him back to health as influenza he’d developed after your time in Colter hadn’t yet subsided. The camp was empty. Not a soul in sight.

There was a small crate in the corner of his tent and organised neatly atop was a framed photo of his mother Beatrice, a small vase of flowers that were native to New Hanover, and a beat-up leather journal that he kept close to his bedside. Arthur was so protective of his journal, you’d often tease him for it. Sometimes, you’d admire him from afar. After a hard day, he’d often sit by the lake, slumped against a tree, jotting down his thoughts or filling the pages with doodles of his ventures. 

And this time it was calling out to you.

You wondered why he hadn’t taken it with him. Had he really just ‘left’ it at camp? Forgot to put it in his satchel before he left this morning? You were hyper-aware that you’d more than likely never get this chance again. The curiosity was begging to be explored and you took one final glance around camp before slowly inching towards the crate by his bedside. Arthur’s tent was really just a canopy and once you were under you felt a pang of guilt in his heart. You shouldn’t be snooping around his business like this. He had done nothing to warrant you doing that.

It wasn’t malicious. It was harmless. Just a little peek…

You sat on the edge of Arthur’s cot and picked up the journal, feeling the worn leather between your fingers. Undoing the clasp, you pulled it open midway and were greeted with an illustration of a girl. It was the back of her, so there was no way of making out her face, but as you took a closer look at the pattern on her ranch boots, you couldn’t help but recognise the embroidered swirls and shapes. They were your ranch boots, and Arthur’s illustration was a depiction of you. It was dated noon, 5th July 1899, just a few weeks ago. It appeared to be a drawing from observation, and you were pictured helping Pearson put away an assortment of canned goods. 

It took a moment for it to dawn on you. He’d drawn you.

Now you were invested. You turned to the next page to see a verse of words:

‘Sometimes I wonder when she sleeps

Is she ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into her eyes

I pretend she’s mine all the damn time’

To the left of the words was another illustration of you but this one had a lot more detail. A delicate flower was placed in your hair and this time, you could see your face. You could see the shape of your nose and the creases in the corner of your eyes when you smiled. It had never been so clear. Your gaze flicked back towards the words as you reread them over and over again. Could they have really been about you?

Surely not. Arthur had never done anything to suggest that he’d had these feelings for you. As far as you were aware, he was still hung up on Miss Mary Linton. You’d never met her before. You’d only heard tales from Hosea, how Arthur was sweet on her and she broke his heart to the point he didn’t want to leave camp for days. You couldn’t imagine Arthur that way. You supposed that since then, he had changed, and maybe since meeting you, he’d changed again.

On the outside, Arthur was rough. His skin was sun kissed and his clothes were old, his boots were muddy and he could go months without shaving. You’d heard stories of his questionable temperance but with you, he was patient and soft and gentle. You’d seen him be kind around little Jack too, and that relationship spoke volumes since John was mostly absent from his son’s life. Arthur was a good influence on Jack. Hell, you could argue he was the best influence around camp in general. Although he was often gloomy and he would, on occasion, pick fights with Micah or Bill, you saw through that. He had a good heart, wether he believed it, that didn’t matter.

A loud cough interrupted your thoughts. You froze, and it was like you could feel time moving. Arthur’s journal was still in your hands and you could feel the eyes of a cowboy bore into your back. You hoped and prayed it was anyone but Arthur. At least then you’d be able to potentially mangle yourself out of the fact you went behind your friend’s back. You wanted to put the journal down, hell, you needed to, but it was like your feet were glued to the ground and your hands were locked in place.

“What you doing snooping through my stuff, girl?” 

Oh, it was Arthur. You winced under his question and took a deep breath. You carefully placed the journal back on his bedside, just as it was before you took it. Perfect. Like it hadn’t moved an inch. Not that it mattered anymore…

“Well?”

Fuck. You cursed under your breath. Say something. Anything.

“Arthur-I’m-so-sorry-I-don’t-know-what-I-was-thinking-I-just-saw-it-there-and-you-always-got-your-head-down-in-it-and-never-show-anyone-and-I-was-just-curious-and-I-know-it-was-wrong-but-I-just-“

“Now, why you talkin’ like that? Like I’m holdin’ you up at gunpoint? Turn around and look at me.” He cut you off, his question was rhetorical and his voice stern.

You immediately obliged and spun around on your heel. Your stomach was in knots. You wish you had never looked. Never betrayed him like this. Arthur’s eyes were a piercing blue like you’d never noticed, and his lips were curled into a frown. But still, he remained stoic. It’s like he was trying to appear unbothered, but you could see right through him.

“You know now why I let nobody look in here?” Arthur muttered, leaning over you and snatching the journal from his bedside.

You nodded apologetically and watched as he stuffed the journal into his satchel.

“I’ll be on my way now.” Arthur tipped his hat to you before turning around. He paused and when he was looking away he muttered, “’Am sorry if… you thought it was weird, miss…” 

Your mouth felt dry as you watched him walk away.

Weird? He was worried that you thought it was weird.

You chased after him and caught up pretty quickly, placing the palm of your hand flat against the broadness of his back. “Arthur, what you wrote in there was the sweetest thing… not weird at all, I promise.”

Arthur stopped and looked down at you, still frowning. 

“I just had no idea you felt that way,” You continued, shaking your head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I overstepped your boundaries and we can just forget about it if that’s what you want…”

To clarify, forgetting about it was the last thing you wanted to do, but alas, this wasn’t about you anymore. You would do anything for Arthur’s forgiveness and if that meant pretending like today never happened, then so be it.

“Forget?” Arthur whispered. “You really expect me to forget about this?”

You pursed your lips together, holding back a sigh. “I don’t think you should. I know I’d struggle to forget what I saw in there… but also, I don’t want to forget. I… I’ve been sweet on you since the moment I met you, Arthur. Tilly and Mary-Beth would always tease me for it. Abigail knew too, but she said you’d never be interested in pursuing someone in camp. Hosea made it seem like you were still hung up on Miss Linton, and so I never said anything. Oh Arthur, you’ve always been so kind to me. So gentle and soft, you’re different to the others…” You placed a hand on his bicep and Arthur practically softened into your touch.

“I’m a bad man,” Arthur shook his head gruffly. “I’ve done bad things.”

“Haven’t we all?” you snapped back, exasperated. “I may just do the chores around camp but you forget my history, Mr Morgan. All of us are Van Der Linde’s and we are not good people. Hell, I struggle to even tell the difference between good and bad anymore. But when I’m with you, I feel good. Really good. I feel safe and protected and God, Arthur. When I saw you felt the same way… that you think about me in the same way…”

Arthur cut you off with a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and contrasted with the roughness of his stubble and quick-growing moustache. You let out a small gasp when his lips crashed atop yours but quickly melted into it, bringing your hands up to his head and running your fingers through his dark blonde hair. His tongue tasted like fresh mint and other herbs you couldn’t quite recognise, and you had never been closer to his musky familiar scent. Arthur’s big arms wrapped around your body and he held you tight against him. When he finally pulled away, he nudged his nose against yours and lingered for a moment, staring into your eyes.

“Forgive me for saying miss, but if it wasn’t already clear, I think I’m in love with you.”

The revelation made you giddy, your heart racing in your chest with the thrill of it all. You couldn’t believe it. Abigail…. Hosea…. They were all wrong. Arthur actually felt the same as you.

“I’m in love with you too,” you squeaked, tears filling your eyes as Arthur enveloped you in a hug.

When you finally pulled away from him, it was only to ask him another important question.

“Do you forgive me for what I did, Arthur?” you asked him sadly. Arthur could see the guilt; it was written all over your face.

“If you didn’t do that, none of this would have ever happened,” Arthur smiled, pressing his index finger to your chin and picking your face up so you were looking at him in the eyes. He was smiling. He was okay…

“I s’pose that’s true,” you shrugged. “I’m still sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

“I believe you,” Arthur said, lacing his fingers with yours. “Now let’s go grab some of Pearson’s broth and we can take it to the lake. I think we have a lot to talk about…”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up. You and Arthur walked side by side to the campfire and the entire way you felt yourself bubbling with anticipation over what was to come next.

[imnotasuperhero]

Show me a garden (that's bursting into life)

Natasha Romanoff x Reder

A/N: IT'S HERE! A day late, but hey! I made it before I dehydrated myself from crying, lol. I hope you like this one and are hooked on a possible continuation? I know I could've added more but I honestly don't know if I could resist any more feelings right now. I did not proofread since I'm running late for work, so all mistakes are mine.

CW: Heart transplant.

--

"Welcome back," Molly greeted as she checked her vitals.

Natasha couldn't help smiling as her vision became clearer and she realized what was happening.

The surgery has been a success, allowing her another chance at life.

Freeing the tear that had filled her eye, she smiled gratefully to whoever was kind enough to gift her with their life and silently vowed to cherish this new opportunity and live it as best she could.

"May I know their name?" Natasha asked hoarsely.

Fidgeting under the nurse's scrutiny, she hoped to be granted the knowledge to properly thank them.

"This goes against the rules. But just because it's you, I'll tell you." The blonde smiled softly. "Her name was Wanda,"

Closing her eyes, Natasha couldn't help the warm feeling overtaking her whole body. "Thank you, Wanda." She whispered heartfully with all she had in her for those words to reach her savior wherever she was, if that was even possible.

But as any hospital did, these four walls held different stories. And while Natasha was basking in this new chapter in her life, someone else was mourning their lover.

The pain taking over you was nothing like you'd ever felt before.

They say losing a loved one can be the hardest thing to go through, but with time that empty hole will heal.

But how is one supposed to go on when the person who held your heart took it away with hers way too soon? How is someone supposed to keep on living when you've been robbed of your other half?

The falls your eyes were had you sniffing every now and then as your soul rolled out of you with every tear you shed. Your hand hadn't stopped shaking since you signed those damned agreements. Because despite honoring Wanda's decision, knowing she'd be ripped from her organs meant she was gone. Having agreed with her meant that you'd never see those beautiful green eyes and you'd never hear that thick accent ever again.

Having honored her wishes only meant you'd been left alone to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

Chuckling sourly, you sat down in the waiting area outside the ICU, where your hospital tour would finish any moment now. And soon enough, a nurse came out through the sliding doors.

"Excuse me," you timidly walked towards the blonde lady. "I just wanted to know if the receiver of Wanda Maximoff's heart was okay," you did your best to keep your voice steady, gasping when the nurse's hand squeezed your shoulder.

"She is in observation, but everything seems to be going perfectly," she smiled warmly. "I know what it feels like, so I thank you for your gesture. Would you like to meet her?"

"No," you voiced weakly. "Thank you, though."

With the confirmation that the heart you once loved kept on living in someone else, you walked the cold tiles of Memorial Hospital, hoping you would never have to come back.

But what once seemed like a faraway possibility had become a reality in just a matter of just a few months.

And if anyone dared to ask how you could love so soon after Wanda, you'd tell them the truth.

Something in Natasha had captured your attention ever since the first time you saw her almost tripping over Puck, like a magnetic field that kept bringing you both together over and over until you decided to feed your curiosity and asked her for a date.

To say the rest was history was an understatement.

And while sometimes you missed Wanda, time and Natasha's love had started to heal your broken heart.

Maybe it was the way she stared at you like you were the only person in the world, or maybe it was the way her eyes wrinkled when she laughed heartily. Or perhaps it was the way she lived so freely like every second mattered.

"You're staring."

"Sue me," you clicked your tongue, earning a laugh.

"We have to get ready," she leaned down and you met her lips in the middle, taking advantage of her position to roll both of you over.

Muffling her gasp with a kiss, you parted away to look at her.

"Or we can just stay in." You wiggled your eyebrows playfully.

"How about no." She pecked your lips before pushing you away.

But before she could stand up, you grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers together as your left hand caressed her cheek, brushing away a rebellious strand of blonde hair that had faded away to give way to her natural red color. "I love you," you vowed, receiving a soft kiss on your cheek in return, leaving you with a bitter feeling. But you didn't have it in you to dig in.

"C'mon, baby. They're waiting for us." Natasha kissed your forehead sweetly before walking to the closet.

Your worries from earlier that night dissipated as the night progressed, and the music combined with the alcohol only served to blur your thoughts.

Truth be told, it's been a while since you had the chance to go out with your friends since work occupied most of your time lately. So when the invitation arose, you were the first one to agree. Even more so when a certain redhead moved against you in a way that wasn't appropriate for young audiences.

Having your hands found their place at every side of Natasha's hips, you flushed her as close as you could, with your hips moving in sync with the sexy beat of the song.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," you murmured in the shell of her ear, feeling her body trembling even the slightest.

"What you gonna do about it?" Hearing the mischief in her tone was enough to get you into action.

Turning her in your arms, you crashed your lips against hers, blocking any word that would come, with a mission set in mind.

"We should go somewhere more private," her deep moan, as your thigh found her cunt, had you shivering from head to toe in the most pleasant way.

"Your place or mine?" You bit her lower lip before sucking on it.

"You choose." Natasha started walking you backward to the exit, ignoring the catcalls and "oohs" of your friends and who were you to deny her?

Unable to stop kissing Natasha, you clumsily stumbled through your front door, thankful that the Uber had a divisory window to keep your business between you and Natasha only.

But it wasn't until your fingers grazed the skin under her burgundy dress that you realized what you were doing.

Breaking from the heated kiss, you took Natasha's hands from your naked breast, linking your fingers together.

"If we continue I won't be able to stop," you leaned your forehead against hers. But instead of an apology or some sort of plea, you were met with her plump lips taking over yours and you had to fight extra hard to part away.

"I'm serious, Nat."

"I'm ready," she breathed and you searched into her forest green eyes for some trace of a lie, but what you found had your heart squeezing in the most exquisite way. The trust reflecting in those orbs had you closing the distance, kissing her tenderly as if asking for permission at every movement of your tongue exploring her mouth.

Locking your arms around Natasha's neck, you made sure to pour every single drop of love you held for her, making it impossible to fight the chaotic fire spreading through your body. The mix between arousal and gratitude had your fingers running through her creamy thighs, pressing a bit too hard as if intending to mark her.

Breaking the kiss, you smiled shortly as Natasha groaned only to sigh as your lips traced her jaw down to her neck nibbling at the soft skin, just to soothe it with your tongue after.

The needy moans coming from Natasha were a drug you didn't know you needed until now and you surely as fuck didn't want to stop hearing.

But all your determination in making this a night to remember went downward when you heard the lustful way in which your name rolled out of her.

With quick hands, you unfastened the zip on her back, dragging the tight-fitting dress down as your fingers caressed every single inch of soft skin they could reach within their path.

But contrary to your intentions, just as your lips grazed over the big, angry pinkish scar you just discovered, Natasha's moans turned into cries as her whole body spasmed.

"Baby," you shushed as your arms wrapped tightly around her shaking form, walking carefully the short distance to her side of the bed where you lay her down before quickly joining her, bringing her half on top of you, placing her ear atop your chest like she always liked to do when she was feeling down.

"No." Natasha sat back up with her back towards you, stabbing your heart.

"Would you at least tell me what's going on?"

You knew it wasn't the right time to question her. But you've been receiving different signals a few days till now and you were tired of her push-and-pull.

At her lack of answer and her body spams not subsiding, you stood up and rounded your bed, kneeling in front of her.

"Nat," you begged as you took her hands in yours, smiling briefly when she didn't take them back.

"The heart." She spoke after a few moments too long.

"What heart?" You mused softly, not understanding what she meant other than she's had heart surgery as you just had discovered.

"The heart I received. It's Wanda's."

Those two words had your soul frozen, making it impossible to breathe.

The well-known pain you've experiencied a year ago had your body giving up, plopping on the floor with your head tilting to the side as you stared at Natasha trying either to get a confirmation or an…

"Is this why you pursued me? Because you felt obligated?" You spit venomously.

"I-"

"No." You stood up and tumbled towards the door. "I can't hear it." You walked out, leaving her behind.

All in you wanted to scream and burn and just… "Wanda," you cried softly, feeling your tears filling your eyes and your chest starting to close.

Was all this a lie? Had you been a charity case all these months?

Had you been played by the person who saved you from drowning in sadness?

The hole in your heart opened again, consuming all the happy memories you've had with Natasha as you wandered lost through the maze that was your emotions' realm.

The rattling thunder shaking the earth had you jumping back into reality, where you managed to finally deliver oxygen to your tired lungs, allowing every cell in your body to work a little easier.

Walking to the big window in your living room, you allowed your tears to reflect the raindrops as you formed more questions than answers.

But before you could dwell too much into them, Natasha's presence had you facing her. Your gaze settled on the duffel bag in her hand.

"You're not going anywhere. It's storming badly outside," you indicated.

All Natasha could do was nod curtly as she settled her bag on the floor before sitting on the couch, flinching when you did the same a few centimeters away.

The uncomfortable silence filled with unspoken questions and the hurt and judgment she could feel emanating from you had her skin itching in ways she's never experienced before.

Her vocal cords craved to speak her truth. She was dying to reassure you and to make you understand. But the cold demeanor you sported had her silently crying, regretting all her decisions.

"Why you lied to me?" You broke the silence, your words cutting through her soul.

"I didn't-"

"Hiding something is the same thing as lying." You refuted.

Swallowing hard, Natasha spoke honestly. "I didn't want you to think less of me."

"You do realize I'm thinking less of you now after I found out you hold my late girlfriend's heart. Right?" You turned your head and Natasha couldn't help choking at the cold she saw in your eyes. Those same eyes that used to look at her with a warmth that melted her even on the coldest day. "How could you keep something like that for so long?"

Unable to look back at you, Natasha inhaled sharply trying to gather the courage to tell you the truth.

She knew that if she wanted you to forgive her, she must come clean.

"When I found out her name, I wanted to find you to thank you. To show my gratitude to you and somehow to her, too." Natasha sniffled softly. "But when I saw you, something in me lighted up with curiosity. Something about you called me to connect with you," Natasha dared to look at you and her heart shattered in million pieces all over again at the tears running down your face, and even if her fingers itched to brush them away, she kept her hands on her lap. She had no right to comfort you after breaking you.

"I truly wanted to tell you, but I don't know why I decided to omit my intentions and just play it as a casualty. And I know I was wrong," she hurried to say. "But when I noticed your pretty smile appeared because of me, I wanted you to see me as… Me. Not as Wanda's new vessel."

Pausing to gather her thoughts, Natasha turned her body to face you and test her luck, smiling small when you didn't take back your hands from her grasp.

"All I did was because I felt it, not because I pitied you nor anything of that. Y/N, you gotta believe me. My love for you was never a joke." She spoke securely, yet fearful.

"I never ever felt obliged to be with you. Much less to win you. I promise, cross my heart, that I fell for you hard. And I wanted you to feel for me, not for Wanda nor because you thought you owed your life to her beating heart."

Of all the reactions she could imagine, this was never an option.

Closing the distance, your arms locked around her torso as you placed your head on her chest, your ear aligned perfectly atop her heart, and Natasha didn't know if the broken cry she released was because of happiness or sorrow.

"You think we can work this out?" Your broken voice had Natasha's hold on you tightening in relief.

"We will," she spoke strongly. "I believe in us." Natasha released a calming breath as the new possibility of you overcoming this together opened in front of her.

It might take time for you both to be back to where you were before tonight's revelations. But with work, patience, and love, your story with Natasha was far from being over.

Taglist: @summergeezburr @red1culous @wandabear @owloftheshadows

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Black Heart Part 8

Regulus Black AU

Request: Will you write a Regulus x Reader fic where Regulus is older than the reader? She comes to help the Order and Regulus falls in love with her. The relationship isn’t easy because of the war and Regulus’ denial that he would be a good boyfriend.

Summary: Admitting that he was in love had never been something that Regulus wanted to do. Now that you were in his life, Regulus didn’t know how to react. Should he love you or push you away just like he had everyone else?

Rating: M

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Link to Part 7

_____

“I’m really not ready to go back to reality.”

Regulus commented as he unlocked the door to Grimmauld Place. After two weeks away, Regulus had gotten completely comfortable with the “drama-free easy” existence that the two of you had. There was no war, no order, no secret missions that could kill him it was just the two of you happy and free.

Maybe someday…when all of this is over we can run away someplace and be happy.

That was the thought that was keeping Regulus going.

You placed a hand on the small of Regulus’ back stopping his gloomy yet hopeful thoughts.

“Hopefully it will all be over soon.”

You said, softly. Regulus only nodded. He hated going back in a terrible mood but he was in one. After being away from Grimmauld Place for two weeks, Regulus quickly began to realize how badly the house wore on him. If Regulus didn’t know any better, he would say that it was Grimmauld Place that made him so damn moody.

It only makes sense. This house is a damn mood killer.

Regulus thought before turning to look at you. You gave him a sweet smile that made Regulus stop in his place. He stood a moment before turning back to you. Cupping the side of your face, he pulled your body to his.

“When all of this is over, I am taking an oily rag and a match to this place. We can take our babies and move someplace else.”

You had the feeling that Regulus wasn’t joking. If he had an excuse to get rid of his family home, he would probably take it. You gently pushed a strand of windblown curls away from Regulus’ face.

“When you do it be sure to call Sirius. I’m sure he would love to make smores.”

You were relieved when Regulus smiled at that one. When he had woken up in a mood from hell earlier, you were afraid that he would be this way for days.

“We can both light a match at the same time. I have waited a long time to see this place go up in flames…I won’t be robbed of it because I’m being nice to my older brother.”

Regulus quietly thought about the time when he was five and he set fire to the living room drapes. Sirius was the one that took the fall for him and got the cruciatus curse so Regulus wouldn’t be harmed. Regulus was once again reminded how, despite Sirius being super annoying and loud, he did care about his brother.

“I’m sure we can arrange something…just like we can like we can go upstairs and you can take my lingerie off with your teeth.”

You suggested as you let one hand drop to Regulus’ belt buckle. When he groaned, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Love, we have an Order meeting and now I’m going to have to walk in there with an erection.”

Kissing Regulus softly, you continued to tease him through his pants until the front door opened. Sirius stood watching the two of you with a smirk.

“And we wonder why she’s pregnant?”

Regulus nearly jumped away from you before taking his jacket off and holding it in front of his body.

“Fuck you, Sirius! You standing there watching like a giant pervert!”

Sirius moved out of the way so the two of you could go inside.

“I figured two weeks away would have taken care of all of those hormones.”

“Not a chance.”

Regulus commented as you patted his cheek and went off in search of Molly and Tonks. You had an engagement ring to show them and couldn’t wait any longer.

Regulus meanwhile followed Sirius into the dining room with an annoyed expression on his face. Kreacher came out of nowhere ready to take Regulus’ jacket.

“Master Regulus, Kreacher can take your jacket…”

Regulus shook his head.

“Not at the moment, Kreacher.”

Sirius had sat down on the table and was quietly chuckling. He raised an eyebrow when he saw all of the love bites on Regulus’ neck (that his hair couldn’t cover)

“Have you seen your neck?”

Regulus raised a hand up to his neck and realized that he forgot to conceal a few of the marks that you had left. He quickly got a cocky expression on his face before turning to Sirius.

“She’s an animal, man.”

Sirius shook his head.

“So the conspiracy about pregnant women being super horny is true? Either that or you're catching up on what you didn’t do as a teenager.”

Regulus flipped Sirius off and moved to sit down.

“Fuck you, I did a lot more than you realize. Did anything interesting happen while we were away?”

Sirius’ amused smile faded as Remus came in with Harry behind him. He hated the thought of ruining Regulus’ good mood but it was better that he told him now.

“Well…”

Regulus looked up at that one.

“What do you mean, well?”

Sirius stood up and gently tugged on his own hair a bit.

“Two things…Nicolas came here and basically said he is going to fight you over Y/n. I’m not as concerned with that because I know that you can take him. What does concern me is the fact that Peter Pettigrew just happened to see you with Y/n. If my suspicions are unfortunately right…he probably went and told that crackpot that you used to serve.”

Regulus stood frozen. Sirius winced slightly at the expression on his brother’s face. Regulus didn’t make an expression for a moment before he turned to see you talking to Tonks with a wide smile on your face.

Fuck

Was all that Regulus could say in his mind. You were happy…the two of you were happy. For two fucking weeks, it felt as though the two of you had no worries and now you were both thrown right back into hell’s frying pan.

“I don’t want her to know right now. I don’t want her to be afraid to leave the house…but I also don’t want her to leave the house…”

Sirius stood quietly a moment. His attention had turned to you too. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for not only yourself but Regulus too. Sirius was more than thrilled to see his younger, less sunny, brother happy for once. Sirius hadn’t said anything but it but he never tired of seeing Regulus turn into instant sunshine the moment that you walked into a room. The last thing that Sirius wanted was for that to ever end. Regulus deserved to be happy. You deserved to be happy. Neither of you needed to be worried because some icky creepy little man just happened to ring the “dinner bell.”

“You aren’t going to tell her?”

Sirius questioned as Regulus ran a hand through his hair. Regulus was silent a moment before groaning. Merlin, if this wasn’t one of those “isn’t the results of my actions coming back to bite me in the ass” moments.

“I’ll tell her. I just don’t want to tell her right now…not today. Damn it, what shitty timing.”

Regulus moved to sit down while muttering to himself. Sirius stood a moment before going to sit on the table.

“I mean, would there ever really be a good time for that new?”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“No, there wouldn’t but its extra shitty right now. I fucking just proposed to her Sirius. I just proposed to her and the babies started moving…now I have to go tell her some little fucktard that I used to work with knows everything about us.”

Sirius winced. Regulus was definitely right on that one. It was an “extra” shitty time.

“To be fair, I never thought that I would see you propose marriage to anyone. So did you do the dramatic getting down on one knee nonsense?”

Regulus shook his head.

“No, not my style.”

Sirius immediately made a face.

“Please tell me that you didn’t tell her that she was marrying you and that was the end of the conversation?”

Regulus stared at his brother for a few moments and quietly wondered how they were related.

“Of course not, you idiot. I did make it romantic…like on the beach…just the two of us.”

Sirius nodded, looking relieved.

“Please tell me Kreacher wasn’t there. He follows the two of you around like crazy. He’s probably up there telling Mother’s portrait all about it, as we speak. Hey! Have you shown Y/n to the crazy old bat yet?”

Regulus instantly shook his head.

“I want her to marry me, Sirius. I don’t want her to leave me.”

“Good thing mum is dead. So the babies are moving huh, that has to be exciting. I can’t wait to have little minions to play with.”

Regulus smirked.

“Yeah, I woke up to them kicking me in the back in the middle of the night. I swear to Merlin, Sirius, if you make them crazy I will murder you in your sleep.”

Sirius chuckled.

“Look, I have accepted that I will never have kids. Now that your getting them I am going to really take on my role of fun uncle and your haughty ass can’t stop me.”

“I really hope the twins totally look the same and they take great pride in fucking with you.”

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, genuinely curious, what are you going to do if they are identical? Is it going to be like with a turtle and put a bit of fingernail varnish on one of their backs so we know which is which?”

Regulus looked immediately disgusted.

“You are NOT doing that to my children! Sirius, even baboons can recognize their own babies.”

“I know but what if you do confuse them? Each kid will think that they are someone else and go through their life with an identity crisis that they HAVE NO IDEA about. That would be horrible. Like you go through life thinking that your name is Helen and you are actually a Myrtle.”

Regulus continued to stare at Sirius as if he was the most insane person that he had ever seen in his life.

“Would you fucking stop? I would never name my children Helen and Myrtle! You are stressing me out! Look, I have already made a couple of systems…to stop any of that from happening. Like, for example, we are going primarily to dress each kid in a second color. Now unless you are colorblind and I do not know it, that system should be easy for you. Second, I know for a fact that once each baby is born they will stamp the hands and feet prints of each kid. If color mismatching happens, we can simply match each baby to their hand print.”

Sirius blinked and was thankful that he wasn’t the only one worrying about this. It sounded like, whether Regulus wanted to admit it, that he had been putting a lot of thought into this matter too. Regulus was probably having an internal crisis when he was told that they were having identical twins and thought of all that stuff to soothe himself.

“And baboons recognize their own babies, huh?”

Regulus flipped Sirius off before leaning back in his chair.

“Shut up.”

Regulus only nodded before the dark thoughts returned. He stood and went into the kitchen where you were talking to Andromeda. The older woman was smiling as she turned to face Regulus. It had been a long time since Andromeda had seen Regulus and now here he stood looking exactly as he had the last time they had spoken.

Andromeda hadn’t said it but she was greatly concerned when Tonks told her that you were dating Regulus. When Tonks let it slip that you were pregnant, Andromeda nearly fainted. Regulus was the last person that she EVER saw you be interested in. You were almost a second daughter to Andromeda and now here you were dating someone extremely dangerous. It wasn’t that Andromeda disliked Regulus. He was just a product of the Black family gone crazy.

Her thoughts on the matter changed when Tonks told her that Regulus wasn’t the person that she thought he was. She learned about Regulus playing double agent, at great risk to himself…after that, all of her thoughts on her younger cousin changed. Once again she was the darling little boy that she remembered.

“There you are.”

You said with a smile on your face. Regulus absolutely hated the thought of telling you the news that was just dropped on him. It made him sick to his stomach. You hadn’t stopped smiling since he put the engagement rings on your finger and felt the babies move for the first time…now he was going to ruin it.

“Hi, Andi. It's nice to see you.”

Regulus said softly as your face turned to his. Your happy smile faded the moment that you realized that something was wrong.

“It's nice to see you too, Regulus. You’ve picked a lovely woman for a wife.”

Regulus couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face. Of course, he had picked a lovely woman. You were everything that was perfect for him. He hadn’t said it but you had saved him in every way that person could be saved.

“She’s perfect in every way.”

Regulus replied. Andromeda was pleased with his response. After the age of 8, Regulus rarely gave out compliments. When he did make them, it was usually backhanded insults that one could take as a complement. Now here he was seemingly happy with the knowledge that he was about to be a married man and father.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you for a moment.”

You nodded and followed Regulus into the sitting room nearest the kitchen. Regulus shut the door before sitting down. You waited a moment before taking your place on his lap. Whatever seemed to be eating Regulus was bad enough to make him look ready to burn the world down.

“What’s bothering you? You’re making that face.”

Regulus slowly stroked his fingers over your stomach. Everything was a mess now but he wouldn’t let it ruin things between the two of you. For once, he was happy with what life had given him and Voldemort was not going to ruin that for him. The fucking morons that he used to work with were not going to rip apart his life. If Regulus had to kill them all then he would. He used to have no problem with killing people. When it came to his kids and wife, Regulus would have no problem killing for the protection of the three of you.

“I have some bad news. Do you remember me mentioning Peter Pettigrew to you a long time ago?”

You nodded, you had not forgotten that name. In fact, you had not forgotten the name of a single death eater.

“I do…Reggie, what is it? You're making me nervous.”

Regulus tightened his hold on you.

“While we were at the beach, apparently Peter saw us. Sirius and the order believe that he probably went to Voldemort and told him everything. The Order thinks that we, for the time being, need to lay low. If I know anything about Lord Snakeface, he hasn’t forgotten what I figured out about him and how I betrayed him. I didn’t want to tell you but you need to know. I know you love your job but…”

You quickly held a hand up. A surge of fear instantly went through you. The monster of a man that all of you were working so hard to get rid of knew about your children. He knew about you. It didn’t take you being decently smart to realize that Voldemort would eagerly kill both of the twins and yourself to get back at Regulus. Voldemort would take great pleasure in killing everything that Regulus loved the most before torturing him to the point of death.

“I can take some time away. I do love my job but this, us…our family is what matters to me. Regulus, is everything…”

Regulus quickly pulled you into a kiss. He had to stop you from saying “is everything going to be okay?” Regulus couldn’t even let himself begin to think of “what could happen.” He didn’t want to think about how he would handle being without you or his kids-to-be. Regulus would not let himself think about it…because it wasn’t going to happen. Again, Regulus knew how to kill people and he had no shame in doing it.

“Everything will be fine. I want you to just focus on being healthy…I’ll take care of anyone that tries anything whether it be little Peter Pettigrew or giant Malibu Barbie Lucius Malfoy. I’ve beaten them both up before and can do worse. You’re as good as my wife and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Regulus knew that you would worry. He knew it was stupid to tell you not to because he was going to be doing it too.

His eyes fell on the engagement ring on your finger. Regulus hadn’t even thought of the wedding. He had wanted to marry you before the babies were born or before Lucius Malfoy had a chance to run around and talk about “Regulus Black having bastard children with some whore.”

“We can still have the wedding that you want…we can do it now or later…I’m not changing my mind on you.”

You were quiet for a moment before stroking your fingers through Regulus’ curls.

“Maybe with it being a bad time is what will make it a good time. Molly said we could have it at their place. You know how pretty it is. It doesn’t have to be some queen’s grand roadshow of an event. It can be something small. Just our friends. I don’t think you want anything over the top and I personally don’t want that…all of those eyes on us..no thank you.”

You were relieved when Regulus smiled. He pulled gently pulled you back down for another kiss.

“That's why I love you”

_____

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @justfinishthis @acciosiriusblack @georgeweasleydumbhoe @siriuslyceleste @criminalyetminimal @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @livshifts @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @readtomeregulus @rogue-nyx88 @panpride @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @f4iryluvy @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @gugggu6gvai @buttercup-beeee @jag9000 @quinis @yousmellllikecaca @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @haroldpotterson @padf00ts-l0ver @rubyroscoe1 @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @marichromatic @ravenhood2792 @play-morezeppelin @dumybitch @lostarc24 @un-lovesherself @melaninnbarbie @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @deanwherescas @untoldshortsofthefandoms @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @li0nh34rt @tas898 @mycuddlycorner

[rainbow--panic]

Hi!! Can I get Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea with a male (or gender neutral) s/o who’s a very angry Russian?

Please and thank you :]

Hello! Hope you like this!

Pairings:Dutch,Hosea,Arthur x Russian!Reader

Warnings:Hosea is a freak and the author is hilarious

Dutch

It was not love at first sight, or second or third or anything after that. When Dutch first met you, you had just been involved in a bar fight, with men all knocked out around you he felt like allowing you into the gang would be a risk worth taking. When he had gone up to you he did not expect you to be the angriest, and only russian, he had ever met. Once Dutch was able to calm you down enough, he had explained himself and soon enough you joined the gang. Dutch always trusted you, you were his right hand, next to Arthur. Over time he knew he could trust you with anything, his protection, his money, his hopes, his dreams, and most importantly, his feelings. 

It happened long after you two had known each other. One day the two of you go out drinking alone in some back hick town. You were letting off some stress that had been building up and the both of you got a little too drunk. For a majority of the night in the saloon the two of you were having a grand time, until you both went out in the back for some fresh air. Dutch looks at you and says "Ya know, you are the best gunner I have" He put his hand on your shoulder, mainly to steady himself so he didn't fall down. "And I would love to be with someone in marriage like you someday" He laughed. All you did was cock an eyebrow and say "Well I am someone like me" This seemed to have thrown Dutch off as the way you said it wasn't slurred at all, making him think he hadn't actually been drinking with you all night long. However everyone knows that russians actually getting drunk is a myth told to you by the government.

And that's the story of how you two got together. Though it took some time for him to tell the gang, it's safe to say that 50% were shocked, the other 49% saw it soming, and the 1% were mad as hell, the 1% being Molly. While most of your time is spent in camp, at night Dutch will sometimes close his tent flaps so the two of you could get some private time or he takes you on short trail rides. While we see how Dutch treats Molly in game, safe to say he treats you nothing like that, because deep down in his heart Dutch knows that you can milly rock his shit.

Arthur

Arthur met you when Dutch brought you back to camp. Dutch had told him to keep an eye on you. For a majority of the next few months you were there, you kept to yourself, only talking to a small number of people. If you weren't working or hanging around, you could often be found terrorizing Micha. Lets just say that if Michca wanted to 1v1 a russian, he was gonna be someone's bitch by the end of the night. The first time Arthur had to break you up it was only because Dutch told him so. And after watching you beating the shit out of micha while he was pinned to the ground he had decided he had enough entertainment for the day and pulled you off of him only for Micha to go running for the hills, literally, he avoided camp for days.

After a while you and Arthur got some quality time together going on robbing expeditions. You were always quick by his side and you could beat some mean ass. One time the two of you were pinned down, Arthur got shot in the shoulder by an O'Driscall and you were running out of bullets fast. That's when you get the idea to run out, hiding behind different covers momentarily, raced to Arthur's side, picking him up, and bolted for the woods where you threw him on your horse and got the hell out of dodge.

Arthur had actually admitted his feelings to you one night after these robberies. He had told you that he didn't want these feelings to interfere with jobs so it would be best to tell you so hopefully they would stop. You reciprocated these feelings because if you didn't you wouldn't be reading this right now. You two decided to keep it secret from a majority of camp, the only people yall told was charles, lenny, and john, but sean found out and had surprisingly kept his mouth shut. Whenever he has time, he will usually find a secluded spot to take you to, or if everyone is fast asleep, the two of you would go not too far off from camp to finish any business. 

Hosea

When he had met you, Dutch had just brought you in. In fact he introduced himself to you as soon as you got off your horse. He didn't know much but he knew a few Russian phrases, some of the phrases he confused with german. Hosea took a great interest in you from the start, which you had found odd as not many people are interested in a scary angry russian, in fact because of all the russian stereotypes, people often picked fights with you.

Over the time you had been there, hosea learned more about you than anyone ever had. You taught him some Russian and even a few things from back home. You shared your hardships and he even helped you with some english phrases you couldn't understand, like "There is no cow on the ice" and "To set the dogs on someone" and things like these make you think that it is a miracle anyone learned the english language.

Though Hosea didn't hide his feelings towards you, if he did he didn't do a good job of it, you never had the nerve to ask or confess your own. It was actually on one of your many fishing trips that he confessed. He was reeling in a small mouth bass at the time when he told you how he viewed you as more than just a member of the gang, more than just a friend, and more than just a business partner. Hosea told you that he would like it if the two of you could go on to be something more, but he understood if you didn't feel the same way. That is when you admitted to him that you knew how he felt but you wanted him to say it first. You said "I share these feelings that you have for me, I was just....how you say.... not right about the way to walk it" he understood what you meant. The rest of the fishing trip he told you of all the places he wanted to take you to, all the events he wanted you to see that he knew was going to be happening in some towns, then he went further and told you all the things he wanted to do with you privately to which you grabbed your bag filled with fish and ended the fishing trip with a red face. Hosea made sure everyone in camp knew not to bother you, even told micha he's not allowed near you or he would be kicked out of camp.

[sonic-obscurity-opposition]

underneath the cut is the roster for the now-defunct sonic obscurity opposition. it contains 120 characters, along with a maybe and a probably not list taken directly from my notes when sorting through submissions. it is my hope that anyone who would have been invested in this poll reads them, and perhaps finds some appreciation for them.

PARTICIPANTS:

Saffron Bee (Archie)

Society Max (Fleetway)

Shortfuse the Cybernick (Fleetway)

Blockhead Bill (Fleetway)

Speedy (Tails Adventure)

1999 (Fleetway)

Da Bears (AoStH)

Zonic the Zone Cop (Archie)

Prefect Charyb & Prefect Scylla (Chronicles)

Humpty (AoStH)

Ifyoucan (Underground)

Grimer (Fleetway)

D-Fekt (Boom)

Ari (SatAM)

Hawk (Sonic X)

Johnny (Rush Adventure)

Mello Bee (Archie)

Has Bean (Mean Bean Machine)

Princess Alucion (Sirène)

Eric the Echidna (StH in the Fourth Dimension)

Relic the Pika (Archie)

Captain Oe (Archie)

Demo Duck (Dark Mobius Bean) (Archie)

Melody Prower (Archie)

Teri-Lu (Archie)

Iago the Echidna (Archie)

Brock the Echidna (Archie)

Dr. Quack (Archie)

Bartleby MontClair (Underground)

Pseudo Sonic (Archie)

Amadeus Prower (Archie)

Gae-Na (Archie)

Komi-Ko (Archie)

X Robot (Archie Sonic X)

Meringue the Rabbit (IDW)

Cyrus (Underground)

VerticAL and HorizontAL (Archie)

Mari-Su (Archie)

Wynmacher (Archie)

Rosie Woodchuck (Archie)

Vermin the Rat (Fleetway)

Bog Beasty (Underground)

Chomps (Underground)

Farrell (Underground)

Penelope the Hedgehog (AoStH)

Lucas (AoStH)

Filch (Fleetway)

Harpio (Fleetway)

Leaf (Fleetway)

Mello (Fleetway)

Simpson the Cat (Fleetway)

Old Sonic Clone (Fleetway)

Tufftee (Fleetway)

Lightmare (Fleetway)

Knuckles the Echidna

Cat (SatAM)

Aerial & Athena (Archie)

E-100 Lambda (Archie)

Ichneumon the White Mouse (StH and the Silicon Warriors)

Gaz and Del (Fleetway)

Mom with a Gambling Addiction NPC (Adventure 1)

Lumina Flowlight (Shuffle)

Princess Bee (Archie)

Hershey St. John (Archie)

Echo the Shark (Archie)

Cinos the Anti-Sonic (StH and in Fourth Dimension)

Rob o' the Hedge (Archie)

Juanita the Chameleon (Archie)

Marta the Echidna (Archie)

Liza the Chameleon

Bivalve Clam (Archie)

Duck "Bill" Platypus (Archie)

Griff (SatAM)

Barney the Chameleon (Archie)

Katella (Aosth) - Special request to use this specific image: https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/sonic/images/c/c8/Katellaheart.png/revision/latest?cb=20160407210139

King Peter - (StH in Robotnik's Laboratory)

Colonel Percy Granite (Fleetway)

Hobidon (Sonic X)

Rhygenta (Archie)

Molly (Sonic X)

Ron (IDW)

Arctur the Dragonkin (StH and in Fourth Dimension)

Practice Robot (Fleetway)

Ash Mongoose (Archie)

Walt Wallaby (Archie)

Ebony (Fleetway)

Bimmy the Echidna (Archie)

The Narrator (LEGO Commercial)

Emperor Sleetus (Underground)

Luke Periwinkle (Underground)

Bellok (Underground)

Captain Squeegee (Underground)

Duke of Velcronia (Underground)

Mindy LaTour (Underground)

Lucinda (AoStH)

William Le Duck (AoStH)

Baby T (SatAM)

Dove (SatAM)

Nicholas O'Tyme (SatAM/Archie)

Heavy and Bomb (Knuckles' Chaotix)

Nerbs (Archie)

Lah the Ghost (Unleashed - Night of the Werehog)

Akhlut the Orca (Archie)

Karen (Stone's Ex Boss) (Sonic 2 Pre-quill)

Rava the Destroyer (Sonic 2 Pre-quill)

Nestor the Wise (Chronicles)

Radar the Echidna (Archie)

Kanewisher the Echidna (Archie)

Catweazle (Archie)

Snailbot (Sonic 2)

A.D.A.M. (Archie)

Alexis Acorn (Archie)

Megan Acorn (Archie)

Arthur Mongoose (Archie)

Avery the Bear (Archie)

Aypex (Archie)

Bagbar Beeblebrox (Archie)

Barney (Archie)

Bertha Kintobor (Archie)

Friday the Parrot (StH Adventure Gamebook 5: Theme Park Panic)

MAYBE:

Sonic the Human (Sega Hard Girls)

Thunder the Pasha (Archie) - It's not really a character is it?

The Freedom Team (Beta SatAM) - They're a whole team and also unreleased

Mecha Sonic Model No. 29 (Sonic the Fighters) - I think there was a popular youtube video about this character. Maybe Chaomix.

Galaxina (Sonic X) - May be obscure, haven't finished sonic x, but seems like she wouldn't be

Jimmy and Jilly (Fleetway) - two in one and also i'm very tired

Mr. Yuji Naka (ShtH05) - Not a character, only referenced in one voice line.

Evil Duck (SatAM) - Not real

Skull That Says "SEGA" (S3&K EU Ads) - Not really a character? We'll see.

Masado and Miwasco (Up on the Green Hill (Masado and Miwasco version)) - While they have done official work, I can't tell if this song is licensed.

Segata Sanshiro (Sonic R Ad) - Isn't a part of the world, just beats up some kids and holds up a SEGA Saturn

PROBABLY NOT:

Dave the Intern (Boom) - Popular

Tikal the Echidna (Adventure) - Extremely popular and prominent within the source material

Ian Jr. - Popular

Manic the Hedgehog (Underground) - Manic

Elias Acorn (Archie) - I haven't gotten that far in Archie but this guy is literally a king and Sally's brother

Orca - Iconic? Also an animal with no unique characteristics.

The Cow in the Triple Trouble Ad - An animal with no unique characteristics.

Dodon Pa (Team Sonic Racing) - Important Character in TSR

Santa Claus (AoStH) - That's Santa Claus

[justellie-b]

Castle 5x15 Commentary with David Amann, Bill Roe, Susan Sullivan and Molly Quinn

Okay, last share from the 5x15 commentary. Again, learnt something new - I did not know that "X" was an homage to "The X Files" 😂 It's not the first time we see them referencing "The X Files" in the show, but the other times were more obvious.

I love the Rob Bowman touches in this episode. There was another scene where David Amann gave credits to him. If i'm not mistaken, it was the scene when the FBI stormed the farmhouse and alongside that scene, they showed scenes of Alexis and Sarah locked in the room. That was so good and intense!

That's it folks, until the next commentary then!

[castlingvanias]

feeding the 5 dinoclops shippers that exists

[rubix-writings]

Punisher Pt. 15

Fifteenth part of Punisher. 

This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: mentions nightmares, PTSD, stalking

“It’s only been a week Jo, you don’t have to go back. Hermann and Stella made it very clear to take all the time you need,” Jay sits on the bed watching me grab clothing for my shift at the bar. 

“Jay being here isn’t helping me either. You’re back at work and I just sit here with my thoughts. It’s doing more harm than being back.” “I can get the day off tomorrow, why don’t you take one more day and I’ll go with you?” I walk over to Jay and rest my hands on his shoulders. This man has done everything in his power to help me work through my endured trauma. It doesn’t matter if its holding me after a nightmare, talking me back to reality when my mind drifts off, or just touching me so I know I’m not alone. 

“I can’t sit here another day, the longer I stay away from the bar the more it becomes evil and scary,” I cup the side of his face and run a finger over his stubble which has gotten a bit long over the last few days. “Thank you for your offer, but I have to do this. Hermann and Stella will both be there. I’m sure Kelly and a few of the guys will be there too.”

Jay kisses my palm quickly. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay? And you’re still healing and will be for a while so light work.”

“Okay dad,” I laugh. Jay rolls his eyes before standing to kiss me. I thought it would be a quick peck but it’s slow and methodical. When I look into his eyes after I could tell he was just as nervous as I was about going back to the bar. “It’ll be okay,” I reassure. 

“I know,” his voice is quiet. He kisses my forehead before walking to pack up the last items for work. 

****

Luckily, Jay was able to go into work late so he could go with me to the bar. I kept trying to tell him it was unnecessary, but once I saw it I realized I was very wrong. Jay grabbed my bag and my hand and together we crossed the sidewalk to the door of Molly’s. The outside of it seems different now, almost as if there is a fog around Molly’s. I had been trying to detach myself from Molly’s and all the events that happened that I might have made it the monster in my story. 

“Hey, you got this,” Jay whispers. His deep blue eyes bring me back, like a light glow within the darkness.

“Jo!” Stella yells as she walks closer to Molly’s. Stella, another light in the darkness. “God, I’ve missed you.” She hugs me gently once she’s close enough. 

Now between two of my best friends, it feels easier to breathe. 

“I’ve missed you too Stella. Thanks for filling in for me.”

“No need for thanking, I’m gonna head in. Take all the time you need,” It’s obvious that she means every word.

“We’ll follow you in actually,” once again in between my two best friends I walk through the threshold of Molly’s. 

“Hey ladies!” Hermann yells behind the bar. A quick flash of Rob taking multiple swigs of whiskey while throwing around his gun flashes through my mind, “Jo do you think you’d be able to help me with receipts today?” Hermann’s voice breaks through the memory.

“Yeah absolutely,” I let go of Jay’s hand for the first time to go to the office and drop off my stuff. When I come back Stella is taking the chairs down and wiping down the tables. Hermann and Jay are talking in hushed tones over the bar counter, no doubt about me. 

“Jay, you should get to work. I’m not having Voight on my ass for you being later than you already are,” I joke as I near the two. 

“Call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk, okay? And seriously take it easy, your stitches and ribs are still healing,” Jay babbles. 

“We’ll make sure she barely lifts a finger,” Hermann interjects. 

“See? We’re good. I’ll keep you updated,” Jay hesitates before kissing my temple and saying his goodbyes. Once Jay is out of the bar a panic sits in my stomach, but I move to help Hermann. 

“Jo, a scotch on the rocks and red wine for booth 5,” Stella passes along. I quickly pour the drinks and move to deliver them to the correct table. My legs immediately halt when it registers what the booth is. It’s the same booth I cried for Jay, where I began to mourn a man that thought I was responsible for his imminent murder. The same booth I was beaten into submission, where I came to terms with my own looming death.

“Jo, I got it,” Kelly appears and grabs the glasses from my hands to take them to the table. I can feel my face growing hot from embarrassment and frustration. I begrudgingly walk back to the bar and start to clean glasses. I try to be gentle even though I’d much rather scream and shatter the glasses against the far wall. 

“There’s been a few times we’ve had to go back to places after rescues. Not all of our fires are at homes or warehouses. I’ve had to go to a fire at my doctor’s office once,” Matt talks to me. 

“Matt, I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood.”

“Just hear me out, I promise it’s going somewhere,” he smiles. “The fire at my doctor’s office was bad, one of my first really bad fires. There were multiple casualties, the roof was caving in, we almost lost some of our team. When it came time to go back, I didn’t think much of it. But when I walked through the door all I could see was the fire and all I could think about were the people we almost lost and those we did. I walked out, I couldn’t stay. Later, Mouch had told me that if I continued to avoid the places we had bad fires at, then I’ll have no where to go. He told me that when I think of the painful memories to think of ones that bring me joy. For example, I met my then girlfriend at that doctor’s office, she was a drug rep. Long story short, there is a lot of happiness and good in this bar, a lot of joy around you here. I can’t begin to relate to what happened to you here. We’re all here for you and even if that’s to bring up a good memory for you here. Like maybe that time you had a chugging contest with Otis and you crushed him? Everyone lost their minds and Otis was convinced you cheated. That all happened in that booth.”

It’s true, that all happened early on to me starting at Molly’s. Otis was talking trash about having the tolerance of an ox and that even though he didn’t go to college, he can out drink anyone in those drinking games. Almost everyone was here between the fire, PD, and med crew. Maggie was thoroughly impressed and made it clear that she was behind me from the beginning. The night was one of my favorites at Molly’s, it was one of the first times I felt accepted in this large family. 

“Thanks Matt,” he nodded and walked back to his table with Silvie. 

Matt’s advice became a standard practice the rest of my shift. All the painful and terrifying memories from having the bar being overtaken can’t be undone in a night, but the pit in my stomach became less and less as the night went on. A lot of the crew came into Molly’s throughout the day, no doubt to help keep some friendly faces at various spots in the bar and I’m grateful. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m late, Adam drives like an old lady.”

“It’s called defensive driving you dick,” Adam rolls his eyes as he walks past.

“Don’t worry about it, you want a beer?”

“I honestly would really love to go home, can you leave?” “Yeah, I’ll go grab my stuff,” I head to the office to gather my things and say a quick round of goodbyes before heading out of Molly’s with Jay. 

“So how’d it go?”

“A lot better than I thought. There’s too much good that’s happened in my life at Molly’s for that day to destroy it.”

“We did meet here,” Jay adds. 

“We had our first kiss here too. Plus, I’ve humbled Will on numerous occasions at Molly’s,” Jay laughs and opens my car door for me.

“I’m proud of you,” I lean over and kiss him. 

****

As the days passed it got easier and easier to go to Molly’s. The memories of a gun pointed at my head were pushed away by memories of Jay and I dancing after closing and playing an intense game of slaps with Cruz. Or Stella whipping out on the newly mopped floor. Or the hot dog eating contest between the firefighters and PD. Everyone made a conscious effort to be around the bar more to help fill it with even more bright memories. 

There were times and days when the memories couldn’t be replaced, Hermann had to replace the bell above the door because I couldn’t stop picturing Rob beneath it.

Sadly, the nightmares had remained. I can see the dark circles underneath Jay’s eyes, the eyes that normally fill me with bliss now cause me guilt. I’ve tried to sleep on his sofa, but when I wake up, nightmare or not, Jay is in a chair awake. After a couple nights of the failed sofa plan, I went to stay at my place. The first night I was woken up by Jay banging on my door, claiming he couldn’t sleep knowing I was having a nightmare without him. Even if I slept at my apartment Jay was there either in my bed or on the sofa. 

“Kim, he’s not sleeping. He’s running on black coffee, I even saw a Monster can in his trash,” I pour her a draft beer as she sits at the bar top. 

“Are you sleeping? You both have matching bags under your eyes.”

“I can’t really, the most I’ve gotten is a few hours in a night,” I lean my elbows on the bar top to hold my head in my hands. “I’m so tired. I don’t think Jay gets more than me, he’s always awake.”

“Have you talked with anyone since everything happened?”

“No, I wouldn’t even know who to talk to,” I admit. 

“We have resources through the precinct, I’ll text you some. You and Jay should go, or you’ll both crash and burn.”

“Thanks, I’ll talk about it with him.”

“Hi beautiful,” Jay says as he sits and the bar stool.

“I thought you weren’t drinking tonight,” I joke.

“What I can’t call my girlfriend ‘beautiful’?”

“You can, you just don’t normally lead with it,” I grab Jay a glass of water.

“Well I have to step up my game,” I laugh at his his seriousness.

“So Kim and I were talking and she brought up me potentially seeing someone. Someone to help talk through everything that happened.”

“That’s a great idea, I can help you find someone.”

“I think you should see someone too, you’re sleeping less than me which is saying a lot.”

“I know, I actually made an appointment with my old therapist for next week. I saw her when I was getting help with my PTSD from being over seas. I can see if she has any suggestions of people to go when I’m there.”

“Thanks, Kim’s gonna send over a list too,” Jay grabs my hand and starts to brush his thumb over the back of it. 

“We’ll get through this,” Jay says confidently. 

“I know,” I smile back at him. “You still going to be around when I finish up?”

“Absolutely. Yours or mine?”

“Yours is closer,” Jay squeezes my hand before standing up. 

“Hey Jo, this was left for you,” Hermann says and slides over a yellow packing envelope. I thank him and grab a knife to rip it open. Numerous photos spill out covering the wooden countertop. The photos are all different but the subjects are the same, me and Jay. Some are just of me, or just of Jay, but most of them are of us together. The air becomes thick and suddenly the music is too loud. This can’t be happening. I quickly push the photos back into the package and run to the office to stuff it into the bottom of my bag. Even with the envelope out of sight my heart doesn’t calm down, everything feels as if it is turned up to a thousand. I jump when the door opens and Hermann walks in.

“I’m sorry kid, I didn’t mean to scare yah,” I open my mouth to say anything but nothing comes out. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re safe. Why don’t you head home? We got it from here.” 

Hermann reaches for my coat and bag, but before he could touch it I snatch both from the locker. He doesn’t touch me as he walks me out of the office. 

“Hey Jay,” Hermann quietly calls. Jay’s smile quickly disappears as he scrambles up from his seat. 

“What happened?” Jay asks quietly once he’s close enough. 

“I don’t know, she was like this in the office when I found her. You guys head home alright?” Jay nods and wraps his arm around my waist to lead me out of the bar. 

“We’ll be home soon, okay?” His kind tone makes it hard to keep the tears at bay. 

Taglist: @whit85-blog @bestillmystuckyheart @nocturnalherb16 @5sos-imagine @miranda0102 @thexplosivegirl @annalism @ego-allie-bap

[pennysperfectpolls]

Here is the bracket!

Matches were determined randomly with characters with multiple submissions seeded into opposite ends of the brackets.

I literally shouted “No!” When some of these were rolled

Bracket 1

1

Harrowhark Nonagesimus (The Locked Tomb)

Rio Ranger (Your Turn To Die)

2

The girl (fear and hunger)

Bernadetta von Varley (Fire Emblem)

3

hal 9000 (2001 a space odyssey)

Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

4

Hod (Lobotomy Corporation/ Library Of Ruina)

Gin Ibushi (Your Turn To Die)

5

Charger (Voidpets)

Oscar Pine (RWBY)

6

fred jones (scooby doo mystery incorporated)

Adrien Agreste (Miraculous Ladybug)

7

Hunter (The Owl House)

Killua Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

8

Jane Doe (Ride the cyclone)

Zhang Chengling (Word of Honor)

Bracket 2

1

Kyusaku Yumeno “Q” (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Ciel Phantomhive (Black Butler)

2

Shoto Todoroki (My Hero Academia)

Lillie (Pokémon)

3

Hitori "Bocchi" Gotou (Bocchi the Rock!)

Kai Satou (Your Turn To Die)

4

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb)

Mai Chang (Fullmetal Alchemist)

5

Arven (Pokémon)

“Tails” miles prower (Sonic)

6

Cove Holden (Our Life: Beginnings & Always)

Caspar von Bergliez (Fire Emblem)

7

Shijima Tsukishima (Shimeji Simulation)

Mizuki Okiura (AI: the Somnium Files)

8

Ashe Ubert (Fire Emblem 3 Houses)

The Collector (the owl house)

Bracket 3

1

Freminet (Genshin Impact)

Rob (the amazing world of Gumball)

2

Liir Thropp (Wicked)

Kenzie Martin (Parahumans)

3

Isaac Moriah (The Binding of Isaac)

Essek Thelyss (critical role)

4

Dimitri alexandre blaiddyd (Fire emblem)

Angela (Lobotomy Corporation/ Library Of Ruina)

Syaoran Li (Cardcaptor Sakura)

5

Suletta Mercury (Gundam)

Shilo Bathroy (Just Roll With It)

6^

Cassandra Cain (DC Comics)

Lucy Heartfilia (Fairy Tail)

Gyutaro (Demon Slayer)

7

Furina de Fontaine (Genshin Impact)

Molly Blyndeff (Epithet erased)

8

Nona (The Locked Tomb)

Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Bracket 4

1

Pearl Fey (Ace Attorney)

Wanderer (Genshin Impact)

2

Falst (Aurora Webcomic)

Kokichi Oma (Daganronpa V3)

3

Elphaba Thropp (Wicked)

Shane (Stardew Valley)

4

Nahida (genshin inpact)

Ortho Shroud (twisted wonderland)

5

Natural Harmonia Gropius “N” (Pokémon)

Gregg Lee (night in the woods)

6

Emil Sinclair (Limbus Company)

Kakashi Hatake (Naruto)

7

Tony Tony Chopper (One Piece)

Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender)

8

Alphonse Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Shin-Ah (Yona of the Dawn)

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Prologue

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The cupcake is smashed. Pink icing and gaudy star-shaped sprinkles coat the interior of the box, and the pastry itself has devolved into crumbs. You just stare at it. It had cost you seventeen dollars. It was expensive, yeah. But you’d spent the last three months walking past it every morning and afternoon in the bougie cafe’s windows. You’d waited. You’d wanted.

And it was destroyed. Completely. The perfect swirl of the buttercream was no more. The single, delicate flower made of frosting had lost half it’s petals. You weren’t sure how you could eat it. The wrapping had been warped, but maybe a tea spoon would work?

You let your head fall into your hands, a sob wracking your shoulders. And then less than a second later you swallow down the feeling, and stride over to your shitty apartment’s tiny kitchen. You grab a lighter, a plastic wine glass and the bottle of white wine Molly had given you earlier today. You hadn’t told her what happened yet, but she could tell something had. She’d gave you the wine, a hug, and the promise to always be by your side.

Despite today’s circumstances, despite this week’s circumstances, despite this decade’s circumstances, you were going to have a good birthday getting black-out drunk.

You weren’t going to let yourself sink into one of your funks. Even if it was the worst day of the year by far. Even if it was the second worst birthday of your life.

You just don’t. It’s not allowed.

Your phone rings. Sliding it out of your pocket, you stare blankly at the name on the screen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Malcom. One of George’s friends. You reject the call, block the number, and slide your phone back in your pocket. See? Dealing with things like an adult. Not throwing a temper tantrum, not crying, not… well, destroying your life in an epic meltdown. You’d had a few of those. Still, despite your obvious erraticness, you hadn’t been fired this year. Yay!

You told yourself you were getting better, even as the universe seemingly conspired against your happiness. You were kind of convinced it was.

Turning, you play with the cap on the wine, walking over to your old ratty couch and falling into it. The beast groans at the contact, but you pay it no mind. The thing was probably older than you, and you were celebrating your twenty-first today.

You were an orphan in Gotham, it was not your first time drinking. Molly had dragged you to so many awful parties over the years. But this wine was probably the fanciest you’d ever been given. Scratch that, definitely was. You pour yourself a glass, stick the birthday candle half-hazardly into the largest chunk of cupcake, and grab the remote.

The only true comfort you can get on this day. A woman, a reporter. She speaks, but you can’t really hear what she’s saying. You chug down a glass of the wine, apologising in your head to Molly, and then pour yourself another.

It takes a few minutes, but your muscles relax, and her words tune into focus.

“Today’s memorial, is once again sponsored by the Wayne foundation.”

Yeah, because they’re the only charity organisation in the city. The family of billionaires were debatably the only good ones in existance. Debtable because you weren’t sure if they were good enough themselves. As an orphan who’d known the cruelty of the system yourself, you were a mix of bitter and grateful towards them. Sure, they’d been the only thing that kept you out of true poverty. You were still an awful bitch about it.

You always had been the jealous type. The other kids who got better backpacks or toys or whatever had you seething with fury. The multitude of orphans Bruce Wayne risen out of poverty were not safe from your envy. It didn’t matter if you were… Well, a little bit, just a teeny-tiny-tiddly-little bit… obsessed. Obsessed with them. Kind of manic about it, actually.

You were working on it. Today was a bad day, and you were a little too raw. So, like every little dumb animal on the planet, you went straight to your creature comforts. You pretended you were a roman eating and drinking on their chaise lounge, watching their magnificent entertainment.

Delusional. Your sofa was falling apart at the seems, your cupcake was debris and your entertainment was a memorial service. Wine was good, though.

Gotta focus on the good parts.

You watch the TV screen, the reporter’s voice drifting in and out of focus. There was a family photo of the Waynes and their family friends, all in perfect suits and dresses and pearls and fancy watches. You’d bet that those little accessories were worth more than a year of your rent.

And you lived in fucking Gotham, both the most expensive city to live in, and the worst at the same time. A miracle, truly.

Anyway, they were all stunningly beautiful, even some of the guys. God knows how much the internet went on about Richard Grayson’s long eyelashes. You’d always been enamored with Dick’s good looks. Even Damian Wayne who had only turned nineteen a few months ago and was three years younger than you was already being fawned over by the tabloids.

Gotham’s newest young rich bachelor. Bitterly envious, that was you. You didn’t like that emotion, though, so you turned your attention to others. Namely, delusion.

You let yourself get swept up in daydreams. Of having a rich family, of one so close knit as the Wayne’s. Of having a handsome, loving, kind partner. You don’t let yourself dream about your real family, of a George that was faithful.

You just don’t.

Maybe someone like Tim Drake. Loyal, everyone who knew him described him as loyal. His romances with Bernard Dowd and Stephanie Brown were famous. There were hundreds of papparazzi photos of him with big bundles of roses and a sweet look on his face. You thought someone like Tim Drake would probably be like one of the heroes in your romance novels. Something silly like a meet cute in an airport, or maybe a bookstore or a cafe. He was pretty famous in Gotham’s niche hipster coffee scene, right?

Yeah, you could see it now. Some dumb but cute scene where you get confused and accidentally take his order. You get the same drink, and bond over your shared love of caramel syrup. Like he didn’t live on the opposite side of the city from you, and you probably couldn’t afford whatever fancy shit he drunk. Italian coffee beans versus… well, you didn’t actually know what you bought. You knew it didn’t taste very good, but it was dirt cheap.

What were you doing? Ah, yes, silly daydreams about romance.

But even as you think of Tim, Dick Grayson was so pretty, and he’d had his fair share of partners too. Someone with such an angelic face had to have a personality to match, and the media agreed. Of course you didn’t really know what he was like, this was all just fantasy. Other than numerous tabloid interviews and television, which suggested he had a kind heart and a love for bad jokes you truly knew nothing about the guy. Still, he’d be the golden retriever trope, you think. Or the knight in shining armor, saving his heroine from one of the many disaster’s plaguing Gotham and confessing his love in one big final act. His meet cute would be the airplane one. The blue of his eyes, it makes you think of the sky. You’d take his seat, but he’d be super sweet about it. Like he didn’t have a private jet, and would never be caught on economy.

You think Damian Wayne could play a good romance lead as well. From what you’d seen, he seemed to have a terrible personality, which was perfect for any modern romance. A classic enemies to lovers, with some bickering. Maybe he’d have secretly loved her the entire time, and maybe there’d be a good grovel at the end. So, appreciating his character, he’d have to have a meet ugly. Probably get stuck in an elevator with him or something, and he’d get to display his keen intellect and argumentative nature.

You swirl your wine, nodding your head. Brilliant ideas today, you should talk to Molly more. She’d definitely appreciate your wisdom. She wanted to be a screen writer one day, and all this would be very helpful. She was going to college for it. You couldn’t afford college.

Maybe you were drunk. Maybe you were a genius. It was hard to tell, so you take another sip. That’ll help you figure things out.

“As always, the Wayne families’ faces are morose as they celebrate the late Jason Todd.”

And as always, you felt an odd connection with the dead man. Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity. Sure, you were still technically alive. Kicking about. But everyone you loved dying in one fell swoop, right in front of your eyes? You felt more like a ghost these days.

Weren’t you supposed to be fighting those sorts of thoughts off? Whatever, it was too much effort anyway.

Your slight obsession with the Wayne family had been initially started by Jason Todd. You hadn’t been thinking about him as much recently with George in your life, but he swung right back into place as soon as George left your life. Like a magnet, or more likely, a compulsion.

But now you were brought right back to the morning after. Seeing the entire city grieving the day after you’d lost your family, your first thought had been ‘Good, I’m not the only one,’ and then you’d stopped being an idiot and realised the city was mourning Jason Todd, heir to the Wayne name. Sure, there’d been hundreds of others who’d died, but that was Gotham. Your family had gotten a plaque filled with tens of other forgotten names, Jason had gotten framed photos hung around the city.

Today, his photo was once again surrounded by thousands of bouquets. Peonies, roses, daffodils, lillies, a rainbow of petals that almost covered his memorial stone. It reminded you of your sad-ass cupcake. When the camera zoomed out, you could see your smaller set of poseys against one of the thirty towering monuments, the tiny names crammed into the rock. Your families name was on line fifty-two, near the bottom. You could only afford the flowers once a year, but you visited once a week at least.

There were other flowers. Other offerings. Other candles. Jason’s dwarfed them all.

You sometimes couldn’t tell if you hated the dead man or were hopelessly in love with him. Obviously it didn’t matter. Even when he was alive he was out of both your league and your tax bracket.

Still, you were absolutely certain of it, Jason Todd would beat up George Lancaster. So fucking bad. To a bloody pulp. He’d be eager to do it, as well. You could hum and haw about how you thought violence was bad but he’d see right to the core of you.

The part of you that wanted George Lancaster to suffer. And he’d do it with a kiss and a promise that he’d make it slow. He’d save you from all your monsters, and he’d do it eagerly. And that was the fantasy of it all, wasn’t it?

You lift your glass, in celebration of your dead parasocial imaginary boyfriend. You hoped he wouldn’t be jealous of your new living parasocial imaginary boyfriends. Hiccuping out a laugh, you swallow down another gulp.

And even then, of course you wanted Bruce Wayne as a father. As someone who has seen the worst of the world, and would protect you from it. As someone who would wipe away the tears, who would save you from your own self. And you wanted Cassandra as a sister, someone to groan over guys with and steal clothes off. You wanted the close relationships they shared with Barbara Gordon and Stephanie Brown, with Duke who’d only recently come into their fold. You even wanted their dog you’d seen in photos, the cat that Damian posted on his instagram, the fucking cow they kept for god knows reason inside the estate. You wanted everything, every part of their lives. You were a jealous person, but more than that, you were a greedy person.

You glance at the clock.

11:57.

You shakily open the candle packet, picking a green one out. That had been Sam’s last favourite colour, but he switched them so often it was hard to remember. You stab it into the pink frosting. Julie always chose pink for her cake. Chasey loved flowers, particularly poseys. The flowers had looked like posesys before they’d been crushed.

You light the candle. It’s tiny flame flickers in the dark room, the warm light overpowered by the cool from the television. You peek back over to the clock.

11:58.

And Mum always made her wish at midnight, because she believed that was when it was most likely to come true.

What would you wish for? You never did, because you never knew what you wanted to wish for. Everything you wanted, everything you could’ve wanted, was gone. It couldn’t come back, it was impossible.

11:59.

You look at the TV, at the blinding forms of the Wayne family. Of their graveyard, with the manor in the background. It’s as impossible as everything else. But that’s what they represent for you, isn’t it?

Something hopeful. Something impossible.

You wanted impossible.

12:00.

You lean over the messy cupcake, and blow the candle out. It disappears in one blow, and you sink back into the couch. You take a few crumbs from the cupcake and sneak them past your lips. In your drunkenness, you probably get more on the couch than in your mouth.

You let your eyes flutter shut, and because only you can, you give yourself the comfort of lies. You imagine loving embraces, whispered platitudes. You imagine that today was a good day, that you’d find yourself tomorrow happy. That you wouldn’t wake up with a hangover, that you wouldn’t have a shitty job, an evil ex, and mountains of debt.

That you’d have people who loved you, who could ease the pain.

And you don’t even care who they are.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[euripidesredux]

Extended credits for Museum at Tomorrow episode 5

Below the cut are all of the folks who I used (and asked to be credited) for recordings in Museum at Tomorrow episode 5- specifically, the "This is not for You" recordings.

(The list was too long for podcast episode descriptions)

These recordings were mixed into the soundscape of the show, heavily processed- so you may or may not be able to pick out your voice. Each unique recording is preserved as rhythem, timber, and shape within the episode.

Thank you for your work in creating the canvas of this piece.

Kate Bullen

K R Forsyth

Vega Jacobsen

Charlie

Rovi

Grace Gamble 

Wesley Lee Balete

Charlie Sloykowski

JC Hendry

Courtney Brothers

Arabella McDonald

Hanc Finestra

Katie H

Galacticguppy 

Beck Smith

GreenHeronHive

Micheal Vee

Mira Singer

Laurent J.L. Hall

Carley Mothersell

woaaah

cmt

November_Clouds

Elliott Neptune

Enrica Jossi

Ace

Jahan Shah 

Morgan Galagher

Niall LG

  Bates

Caroline Mincks

Daniel Kurtz

AJ Fidalgo

Tani

Shura

Zedek H

Halebop

Malia Northstar

Greg Ruddick

Solstice Hannan

Jessamy Thomison 

Cassie A.

Rachel Spokony

miss mr meow

Arti Richardson

Mattie J.

Geddy Cary-Avery,

 Ophelia Cary-Avery

Sophie Kaplan

X Speaks

Devin

Craux

Cap

Joe R

Ray Goldberg

Mog

The Marble System

Tina Case

Kate Bullen

Marionette

LD

Maddy Searle

Remi P

Meg Taylor

Beth

Evan Tess Murray

Amanda Jones

Amanda Ehrhardt

Nathan Fisentzou-Haji-Leonti

Johanna Andersson

Tess Huth

@faeriebullshit

Olivia Lion

Ange

Bridget M. Mueting

Wil Williams

Katie Utke

aceofgames

Savy Stay

Graham Rowat

Meredith

spaceacebreakface 

Molly Walsh

Belinda Parker

Erin Celovsky

liz

Caden Osojnak

Danniac 

Ray Schrader

Atlas Byrd

AJ. S.

JayseHasNoGrace

Fay Blackmore

Sharon Peterson

Katharina Abschlag 

Izzy

Ace Tayloe

kat B

Siz Hart

moth

Kathryn Cox

G. Honnigford

Pine Gonzalez

sisyphus

Essay

artie eigengrau

Rook Davis

Izzi Mata

grayson

Tamara Jones

Willow

G.F.

Leigh sharpe

Zelda MacFarland

Arkyn Wolf

Elany

Elaine Wiley

Mary Lewis-Phillipps

Claudia Elvidge

Kei Burke

Katie Vargas

Karleen Preator

Alicia Babich

Jonathan Sciance

Étoile

Hayden Laver

Barrett Vann

S Kramer

Maya Hiers-Lairson

judas

Archer Hickerson

Malinda

Nicole Liang

LF Haye

Louis Carroll

Stefanie K.

Autumn Wang 

jayvin

Badger Merriweather

Aiden

Sender Paulson

vexxervee

Rob Weiner

Peril

Lotte Schmidt 

fynn

Lor

Josie D. 

Jaryn Tyson

Common Blue Icarus

resplendeo

Claire Alpern

skelejor

Matt Weiss

M Zemlock

Kay Eileen

Callisto Holmes

Rhys

Noah Quinn

Sarah Elizabeth

Willow Belden

Amanda McCormack

Esrah Del Carlo

sunny

the Hartmans

Lee Ann Eden

Bob Proctor

Clueless

deda eliensis

Ohallo

Tara Schile

Marzi 

Flameheart Dryad

Sarah Lambrix 

JB Segal 

Ellis C

Ash

Autumn

Jaime Tamar

Haze Peers

Moose

Erin Bevan

Luci Tomich

Bryn

Michael W.

Kim Fukawa

Amy Strieter

Petra Hall

Mal

Charlie Rayshich

Susan Weiner

Everett Blackthorne

Vergess

Tor

ArionWind

M. Alti

N. B. Green

Aiden Nicholson

Jacky Rubou

Nura Lawrence

Gwen Clancy

Ollie M.

Caroline

Duo

Iris

ML Beck

Ray Makowski

Eljay Rich

MV8

Michelle Pigott

Rachel Pfennigwerth

Janika

Jamie Gump

Mason J Miller

Ella Watts

Cole

Mady Oswald

Valerie "ShinyHappyGoth" Kaplan

Anne Baird

Emily Ricotta

el-draco-bizarro

Ansel Burch

Nathan Sowell

LM Heß

Cy

Richard Peers