#saw a picture of a girl with wings and passed out

[wall-maria-around-ba-sing-se]

Maximum Rideheads grab your child-in-an-adults-body warewolf brother

[agaypanic]

Could you write a fic where Regina and the reader hate each other and they always flirt really aggressively and one day they can’t take it anymore and hook up?

The Angel and the Devil (Regina George X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You and Regina fight with aggressive flirting and hungry looks, always making tensions unbearably thick. When Regina invites you to her halloween party, the two of you finally decide to do something about this tension.

A/N: au where the halloween party is at regina’s instead of aaron’s. havent seen the musical movie yet but it looks like renee’s regina’s wearing an angel costume, so whichever regina you’re picturing (renee or rachel) is wearing an angel costume. feel like there’s not much hate in this hate fuck fic but oh well

C/W: mean!dom!regina a bit lol, fingering (reader receiving), pussy slapping (just like once), degrading, hate fucking ig, finger sucking, cum eating ig idk man

***

You had no idea why you were here right now. You could’ve been home or at another party. Hell, you could’ve gone trick or treating even though you were eighteen and didn’t have a little brother or sister to use as an excuse to go door to door for candy.

But instead, you were standing in Regina George’s massive living room, wondering why she invited you to her party, why you came, and how long it would take before you were drunk out of your mind.

You barely recognized anyone here; you and Regina didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. You were able to name a passing face every now and then, but that was about it.

“Well, well.” You could hear the smirk on Regina’s lips before you saw it, whipping around to see her standing behind you. “I’m surprised you actually came. Thought you’d be too busy doing… well, whatever it is losers do.”

“If you didn’t think I’d come, why bother inviting me?” You asked with a sneer. She shrugged, hands planted on her hips as she leaned in close to you.

“Just curious.” You stared at each other for a minute, and you gulped at the close proximity. “Nice costume,” Regina said before walking off, wings almost hitting you as she turned around. It was then that you realized that, in a way, you and Regina were matching this Halloween. While she was dressed as an angel with somewhat extravagant wings, you were decked in red and devil horns.

It was funny, considering that half the time, you thought of Regina as the devil.

***

A few hours later, and you couldn’t help but notice that Regina was always nearby. It made sense, considering this was her house and her party. But you couldn’t find an explanation for why every time you’d accidentally glance at her, you’d find that she was already looking at you.

Feeling small under Regina’s gaze, you felt the need to hide. Your best bet was finding a bathroom, but you didn’t know where one was. You weren’t about to ask Regina, but you also didn’t want to be caught cluelessly snooping around.

“Hey!” You almost had to shout over the music, getting the attention of some girl you knew from one of your classes. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“No, sorry.” She said with a lopsided frown and a shrug.

“I’ll take you.” You almost jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, looking over your shoulder to see the one person you were trying to get away from. Regina stared down at you, jerking her head toward the bathroom as she bit her lip. “Follow me.” She said, turning around without giving you a chance to decline.

You followed the blonde up the stairs, going down one of the many hallways in the house. As you walked, crowds of people turned into stragglers until you and Regina were the only ones there. 

She opened a door and stepped to the side, waiting for you to walk in. You did so nervously, becoming confused when you entered the room. It wasn’t a bathroom; it was a massive bedroom. If you had to guess, it was Regina’s.

“Bathroom’s on the left.” Regina’s voice was close, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was standing directly behind you. She shut the door, making you shiver, and you quickly scurried off to the bathroom, not missing Regina’s small huff of laughter.

You locked the door behind you, marveling at the interior. Whoever designed this bathroom certainly had taste. The bathtub had jets, the shower had two different showerheads, and the mirror above the sink was lit from behind. And even though it was dark outside, you could see a skylight in the middle of the ceiling.

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, seeing that the heat in your cheeks from Regina’s close proximity was evident on your face. You splashed some cold water on your face, doing your best not to mess up your eye makeup or lipstick. Regina was probably still out there, not trusting you to be alone in her room.

After a few minutes of just standing in front of the sink, you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. It was no surprise to you to see Regina waiting for you.

“Thanks.” You muttered, ready to go back downstairs to the party.

But it seemed that Regina had other plans. She grabbed your elbow to pull you away from the bedroom door before pushing you against the wall.

“And where do you think you’re going?” She asked in a sultry voice, tilting her head to the side.

“Downstairs.” You responded meekly, unable to keep your eyes from trailing down her body. For a lot of girls, Halloween was a time of year to dress slutty without being judged for it. You and Regina were two of those girls, and you certainly weren’t judging.

Based on the hungry look in her eyes, lip pulled between her teeth, you were guessing that she wasn’t judging you either. 

There was a wordless exchange between the two of you. After all the staring and insults, you might as well let some steam out of the pot. You were alone; it would be your little secret.

One second, you and Regina were staring at each other with desire, and the next, you were pinned to the wall, making out with the blonde girl that you loathe so much.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were like putty in her hands. Regina’s hands wandered over every square inch of your body that she could reach. One decided to settle on your left tit, squeezing and pawing at you through your satin dress while the other gripped your hip to keep you in place. You moaned into her mouth, body squirming and begging for more.

“Needy, needy girl.” Regina’s tone was condescending, making you whine. You simultaneously hated and loved the effect that she was having on you.

As if reading your mind, Regina’s hand that lay on your boob trailed down your tummy and to the hem of your dress. She bunched the fabric up around your hips, a smirk growing on her lips that were messily smeared with lip gloss.

“Aw, it matches your dress.” She cooed, playing with the lace of your red panties. She looked up, reveling in the shy expression on your face. “I bet your bra’s red too.”

You didn’t bother to answer. Regina’s attention returned to what was between your quivering thighs. A finger landed on your clothed clit, rubbing in slow circles and making you shiver.

“More.” You whimpered. “Please, Regina.”

“Look at you.” She responded, hooking her finger on the seat of your panties to pull them to the side. “Being so polite for me. So wet, too.”

Her hand cupped your pussy, a finger teasing your entrance as she gaged your reaction. You sighed in content, screwing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. But your eyes snapped open, a sharp gasp escaping your lips when Regina slapped your aching cunt. The hand on your hip gripped your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Eyes on me.” She demanded, finger gently trailing back to your hole. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded embarrassingly quickly, and she grinned. Satisfied with your answer, Regina decided to finally give you what you were craving and plunged a finger into you. Her strokes were slow, making you whine and buck your hips for more. She decided to be merciful, giving you another finger and pressing your G-spot with every thrust of her hand.

As Regina fingerfucked you, the heel of her palm rubbed your clit furiously. You were having a bit of a hard time keeping your eyes on the blonde, getting too wrapped up in the pleasure she was giving you. Worried your shaky legs might give out, you wrapped an arm around Regina’s shoulders, almost knocking your hand into her giant feathered wings. In response, Regina let go of your face and helped you lift one of your legs to hook around her hip, leaning you more against the wall to keep you upright.

The new angle made you shudder in pleasure, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Regina knew, too, because she somehow picked up the already fast pace at which she was thrusting into you.

“Gonna come, sweetheart?” She laughed lightly. “About to come from me playing with your pussy like it’s my little toy? Fucking pathetic.”

“Uh-huh.” You let out a choked moan, hand gripping Regina’s shoulder to try to ground yourself.

“Let go, baby.” Regina cooed. “Come all over my fingers like the desperate little girl you are. You can do it.”

As if your body was waiting for Regina’s permission, the coil inside you snapped, and you came with a breathless moan, your body shaking as you latched onto her for support. She continued her assault on your cunt, fingers pistoning in and out of you and helping your ride out your climax.

When you came down from your high, Regina’s hand left your wet cunt, raising it to your mouth.

“Open.” She softly demanded, watching you eagerly wrap your lips around her fingers that were coated with your arousal. You groaned at the taste, cleaning off her digits with your tongue. 

Regina’s fingers left your mouth with a small ‘pop,’ and her thumb swiped against your lip to clean up some smudged lipstick. She fixed the seat of your panties, giving your sensitive cunt a pat before pulling your dress back down into place.

“For the devil, you’re such a good girl for me, L/n.” Regina teased, giving you another hungry look before stepping away.

You watched her open the door, waiting for you to leave first. You were convinced that your legs wouldn’t work, but you were able to stumble out, Regina close behind you.

At least now you know why she invited you.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2 @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69

[starshipdecay]

Toon Zelda redesigns! I've never been fond of the Toon Zelda design, and these girls deserve some individuality. Design notes and rambles below the cut :D

(time to turn the proper grammar off i aint capitalizing all this. warning: i am verbose)

first up, tmc zelda!

shes the one most like toon zelda, since i felt like the vibes fit the *most* (though not a lot). also, with her place on the timeline, i could justify a lot of bits, like the wings and the cape

the cape! obvs it comes from the toon zelda base design, but also it involves skyloftian fashion! i take the timeline as a challenge, and i once saw a take somewhere that the skyloftians all wear their family crests (most often birds lol) on their person. zelda here (and link too) do just that, wearing their family crests on little caplets. on the back is, of course the royal crest

i went very cutesy princess for her. tmc has such a *whimsical* vibe that i feel is very. muted? by the fact its stuck with the toon style. so i wanted to put in that vibe here. also her sprites make it look like her skirt is super poofy, so how could i not?

curly hair: i wanted something interesting, and most zeldas have straight hair. so! adds to the cuteness

i didnt draw it so well but she (and link) both have very sleepy expressions. zelda especially just has a sleepy expression in her sprite, its quite adorable.

shes not as decked out as other princesses, cuz i see tmc taking place before the royal family really starts to get *royal* as we see it. shes still of course got a tiara and some embroidery tho.

Tetra! her base design isnt all that changed from the original. her name is a fun hc of mine tho. i think "von Hyrule" sounds better as a surname than just "hyrule". shes not zelda, but shes still a descendant.

(WW) princess z (as i call her)

I went more oot zelda vibes for her, since she would be closer, temporally, to oot. i also went very warm, since ive never seen the flood as a *warm* endeavor.

shes got the shoulder danglies, as most zeldas have shoulder armor of some kind. the danglies instead of actual armor are supposed to kind of evoke a royal sea captain kind of vibe.

shes ghostly, with a fish-eyed stare. shes been dead and gone for a long time. shes also a bit taller and a few years older than tetra (as of ww). shes just some spectre the king saw in tetra, not at all a close match

tetra, being smaller than princess z, doesnt fit into the clothes. the dress is too big for her (as is in canon gd that skirt is WAY too long for her), the coat is baggy. the role of a princess *literally* does not fit her.

the ribbons! theyre my replacement for the wings, and they represent the wind in the game! since its represented by white lines, the ribbons are a perfect symbolic match. (also, a note, tetras hair is shorter and coarser than princess z's)

i mostly bullshitted the blue panel but the vague idea i gave it was 'a hope for the triforce to give good fortunes to the people' (pictured as dots, mostly behind her arms)

Pirate Queen Tetra

ph! about a year has passed, and tetra has really grown into her own! as well as literally grown!

shes still tetra, pirate and captain, but shes incorporated that royal heritage into her identity: quite literally! she made piecemeal of the original outfit (what was left of it anyway after the fight), and added bits and pieces to her new life.

she also takes full advantage of said heritage to call herself pirate queen. its great for branding. whos gonna say she CANT go by pirate queen?

the seagull feather is from Aryll. only crew member tetra wears a trinket from (who can say no to that ball of sunshine! certainly not tetra)

not many notes. yall can see whats there. (also she still wears her hair in a bun, its just in a low bun (you can almost see it) when she wears her hat)

st zelda!

first note is: shes not a princess! shes an heiress of the company tetra had made and left behind. hence her title of Lady zelda. ("new hyrule" rly just like-- the ending of ww was *literally* that hyrule is dead and thats okay. how did they miss that :sob emoji:) also calling her Lady Zelda fits with the train vibes

shes in a 1880s style bustle dress because 1) i am OBSESSED with bustle dresses. i love them. so much. 2) the more historical vibe works really well with trains! also a lot of the other outfits in the game have late victorian vibes, so shes certainly not out of place.

her hat (and gloves): any proper lady has a hat on when going about town, however, when she gets body snatched, she pulled out her hatpin to use (ineffectively) as a weapon (she IS tetras great-great-granddaughter), causing her to lose her hat *and* hairdo.

shes still got the hatpin in her ghost form, too. she uses it to threaten people for funsies

Ribbons! on the topic of hairdo, her ribbons! visually tying her to tetras design, the ribbons here instead take on the image of train tracks, with her pin (on the left side) evoking a train engine. the pin also makes her look rich and girly. when her hair comes undone, this makes the ribbons all loose, like how the train tracks disappear in game. (the hat also kinda connects her to tetra)

thanks for reading :D i hope you liked reading this as much as i liked typing it

[chaos-chloe]

I have a request for the Clooless guys

Could it be the Clooless guys meeting the reader in person for the first time at a like at a mall or a fair. The twist is the reader has never shown their face so they don’t know what they look like. So the reader decides to have fun with them. Following them around and sending the guys photos of them in a group chat. This is flustering them because clearly the reader can see them but they can’t find them. Eventually they walk up to the group pretending to be a fan wanting a photo, they get it, then send it to the group chat ending their little game. The reader apologizes offers to pay for a meal and some drinks as an apology and they all have a fun night.

I hope your having a good day or night

Fairly Clueless - Clooless/Pezzy x reader

Summary: Faceless reader/youtuber plays mind games with the guys

TW: cursing, lmk if I missed anything <3

As I was leisurely walking up to the ticket stand, I grabbed my season pass out of my small black purse that was slung over my left shoulder. The girl saw my pass and let me walk through without a word, which made me quite paranoid. I kept my head on a swivel making sure no one is recording or recognizing me. My hair was flowing down my shoulders, ending at the bottom of my back. 

I kept walking around the vendor section looking for a certain small trinket, to add to my collection of weird little things. My eyes spotted a copper witch broom besom on a skull, as I was about to grab it another hand snagged it up. My eyes trailed their arm up to their face, my eyes widened and I backed up slowly, it was Droids as in ElasticDroid. My eyes wandered around the open area and saw the guys trying to meet up with Droid. 

I played it cool and kept looking around at the vendors table, I was listening into the guys conversation. 

“Droid, we finally found you. Why do you keep moving while we are trying to meet up with you man?” Puffer asked, annoyed .

“Dude, I’m sorry but look what I found! Isn’t it cool, like um uh ____ would have?” Droid questioned excitedly.

“It’s slightly creepy, not gonna lie. But it does seem like ____ would have that on her shelf.” Grizzy responded wearily, he kept his eyes on it.

“Droid, are you buying that for her?” Pezzy asked.

“Duh, of course I am. Why else would I have it in my hand?” Droid snarked back at Pezzy, the guys laughed together. 

I sneakily walked away from the group, I had a master plan forming in my head. I took out my phone to make it look like I was trying to take a picture of the surrounding venue, but really I was taking a picture of the guys.  They were laughing at Droid, as he took out his wallet to pay for my “surprise” new trinket. I opened Discord to send a text. 

*PICTURE*

{You guys look like you are having at that vendor's table ;)}

Before I sent that non-cryptic message, I started walking away, so they wouldn’t see me being suspicious. 

Droid

{Uh what?} 

Pezzy 

{when did you decide to move to Texas, WHAT?!}

Puffer

{Definitely not creepy at all ____}

Grizzy

{Nah this is why I stay home, ____)

{whattttt noooo, definitely not creepy Puffer. <3)

{I always lived in Texas Pezzy}

{love you droid *mwah*}

{Grizzy shush, you love meee}

Droid 

{_____ where are you?}

Grizzy

{yeah, let’s meet up}

Puffer

{Nah, we hate woman lol}

Pezzy

{true fuck woman LMAO}

{I’m really feeling the love guys}

{maybe we will meet up after I do some browsing, and looking at the animals *mwah*}

I put my phone away in my purse and pulled some cash out and stuffed the bills in my pocket. I walked to wing 3B, where they kept the animals. I found a table where you can buy a bucket of food for the fur babies, after my transaction I marched my way through people with a purpose to feed the babies. I reached my first destination of a pen with a momma goat feeding her kids, I tiptoed over to her, grabbed a handful of feed and stretched my arm over the chicken wire fence to have my hand right there in front of her face. Momma goat finally relaxed when she realized I wasn’t here to harm, but to help her take care of her and the babies, she ate right out of my left hand. 

After the goat finished eating I moved onto the other animals, while walking around I spotted the guys again and snapped a quick picture once I got my phone out of my purse. 

*PICTURE*

{Hmmm, you guys must be Clooless} 

{hehhe}

Puffer

{Hahah I see what you did there}

Grizzy

{Reallll funnny}

Pezzy

{*face palm*}

Droid

{ahaha what?} 

{cmon on droid keep up with me}

I put my phone up in one of my pockets in my bottoms. Walking away from the scene to the next animals, llamas. As I was feeding one of the dark caramel colored llamas, I heard a set of footsteps walk up to me. I spun on my heel being face to face with Pezzy, I saw Puffer slowly walking to Pezzy. 

“Yes? How can I help you?” I asked politely, trying not to be suspicious.

“I just wanted to say that my friends but mostly me, think you are really beautiful. Is there any way I can get your number?” Pezzy answered my question with another question. I shifted on the soles of my feet, thinking about it. *they don’t have my number, so might as well give it to them and fuck around with Pezzy later*

“Um yeah sure, do you want to write it down or type it into your phone?” I agreed 

“Oh yeah, my bad.” Pezzy fumbled to get his phone out of his left pocket. He opened his message app and I quickly typed my number in with a contact name of ____.

“Text me later okay?” I suggested with a smile and wave goodbye

“Will do, _____.” Pezzy smiled and walked off 

I was giggling with a small jiggle in my body as I walked to different sections. My brain is reeking with excitement and ideas of how to fully fuck with them and reveal myself to them at the same time. After feeding and visiting all the animals and seeing all the children light up with smiles, I took myself outside to go explore the fair games set up. 

When I arrived at the games, the boys minus Pezzy were standing around with a drink in their hands laughing and picking on each other. I walked shyly up to them acting like I was a fan wanting a picture or a hug.

“I’m so sorry to disturb y’all but is there any way I can take a picture with y’all or at least a hug?” I asked with my cheeks turning a bit pink. 

“Oh my god, yes. C’mon Grizzy take the photo.” Droid said excitedly and set his bag on the ground. I handed my phone to Grizzy, then all of us got in frame, made a funny face and clicked! Photo success!

“If you want, Pezzy should be back any minute if you want one with him.” Grizzy suggested while Puffer was giving me a hawk eye like he was trying to figure me out.

“I would love to, but I have to start heading home. Thank you again, y’all stay safe.” I wish them luck and hopefully I don’t get caught just yet. 

I walked back to my car, unlocked the driver side and slid onto the seat. I took a deep breath to calm my heart rate, my heart feels like it is beating out of my chest. Once my keys were in the ignition and my phone hooked up to my bluetooth stereo, I opened the groupchat to reveal my “prank” on the guys. 

*PICTURE*

{it was nice meeting you guys <3}

Grizzy

{nah, no way you playing?!}

Puffer 

{I TOLD YOU GUYS SHE WAS SUS}

Droid 

{WHAT?! I WAS PLAYED WITH BEFORE I WAS TAKEN TO DINNER}

{I CANT BELIEVE THIS BULLLL SHIT}

Pezzy

{....____?}

{Hi guyssss, I hope you all aren't too mad?}

{I was nervous, don't fully expect me to have face cam on now lol}

{yes, pezz?}

Puffer

{Pezzy you really sought after her didnt you?}

Pezzy

{I DIDNT KNOW ON GOD PUFFER}

Droid

{Now you lost me and grizz}

{we are starting at eachother like 2 big idiots}

Puffer

{you know how pezzy surprisingly got a girls number}

Pezzy

{SHUT UP PUFFER}

Grizzy

{OMG YOU ASKED ____ AND DINT KNOW IT WAS HER!?!?}

Droid

{Pezzy just has that aura mannn}

{well i wasnt gonnnaa say anything…}

{I DIDNT want to put him on the spot like that, cmon puff}

Puffer

{what?! Someone had to dude}

{anywayyyys, I’m heading to Waffle House yall. Yall coming as well? My treat?}

[harrysmimi]

A Moment In Time

Synopsis: One where Harry's Swiftie daughter finally gets to meet her favourite and see her perform live.

Here's Pt2 to this after 1.5years | More of my work

It was a random Wednesday day and Harry and Moon at Harry Lambert's studio.

They were going to The Eras Tour!!!

Moon was ecstatic would be an understatement to say. She wanted a green folklore dress like Taylor's to wear at the Wembley Night three. So her dad found the very next person to reach out to for a custom dress for his little princess.

"It twickles!" She chuckled as Lambert took her measurements, making sure to leave quite a margin as she is a growing kid and the show was a month and a half ahead.

"Yeah? Does it tickle here?" Lambert tickled her tummy a bit making her burst into laughter.

Then later Moon went out with her dad on a little lunch date. She wanted Fish and chips and that's what she got.

......................................................................

It was finally the concert day. Moon was already hyped up for everything. They even went merch shopping. They couldn't find anything in her size except for nail charms there.

Moon carried along her VIP pass on a lanyard too long for her and her noise cancelling headphones which matched her dress. Yes, her Papa bought her VIP tickets.

The show kicked off and they all danced, sang and had a great time all together.

Moon was particularly ecstatic when she saw she was matching with Taylor with the very similar Folklore dress. Taylor of course noticed it during her 22 set.

"Mummy look!" Moon showed her mum how Taylor danced during August, using her cape sleeves like wings just like her favourite.

Harry's fans there were particularly in awe of the little girl. Surprisingly, they did not take pictures of her or any sneaky videos. They were all very respectful as YN and Harry have kept their daughter away from the lime light.

Moon was over the moon one can say when she saw Taylor wearing the same dress as hers during August. "Mummy she's wearing the same dress as me!" The little girl screamed in excitement asking her mother to pick her up so she could have a look at her favourite performing on the stage well.

"Yeah!" YN cooed as picked up her girl and propped her up on her hip.

.........................................................................

It was the end of the show and Harry was guiding his girl back out when Andrea, Taylor's mum stopped them.

"Hi, Harry." She greeted him, "Taylor said she would like to meet your daughter at the back stage now."

Moon was all tired and a bit grumpy already as she clung on her mother, still with her noise cancelling headphones on and her bunny close to her chest. She had no idea what was going on as her mother and dad took her back stage. Taylor was there, still in her Midnights body suit.

"Moonie look who's here." YN cooed to her daughter softly, making the little girl pick her head up to look at her favourite.

"Hi little one!" Taylor said softly.

"Taylor!" It was like Moon had two shots of espresso all of a sudden when she saw Taylor, she was quick to jump in her arms with a bear hug.

"Oh you're so sweet!" Taylor hugged her back. "I like your dress. It's so pretty."

"Yeah, it's like yours!" Moon said she looked down at her dress.

"It suits you better I can say." Blondie said. "Your dad told me how much you like my music, that means so much to me."

"Yes, I like Love Story, Me, and Lover!" Moon listed out a few songs she likes. "Papa wikes to sing it to Mummy and me sometimes."

"Awe that's so sweet, isn't it!" Taylor chuckle softly. "Thank you for listening to my songs." She hugged the little girl again.

Taylor gave Moon so many gifts. Harry made sure to inform Taylor that his daughter is a big fan of hers. Taylor made the meet much so special with custom merch for Moon.

A little 22 hat, and a small Junior Jules shirt, with a pair of black jean shorts, a few tour hoodies made in her size and few sizes larger so she can grow into them. A few friendship bracelets for her, which Taylor made herself. And a few candies and chocolates, which Taylor made sure with her parents first before giving it to her.

"I made these myself for you." She helped Moon wear the bracelets.

And little did Taylor know, Moon had a few gifts for Taylor too.

"Mummy the gift, pwease!" She looked up at her mother. It was just a little cat with a picture Moon drew herself and a friendship bracelet too.

"Oh my gosh! You made these?" Taylor was in utter surprise. The little bracelets said, 'Moons BFF" and "Bestie" respectively. "You drew this?"

"Yes!" Moon exclaimed, "dunno if you would wanna wear it but I made it." She added shyly.

"Of course I want to wear it." Taylor instantly put on the bracelets, "oh and I love this picture so much!"

"Yeah? This is Moon and this is you!" She pointed at two stick figures with yellow hair, one with blue eyes and one with green eyes. Stick figure Taylor had a black mic in her hand. "And it says, I wuv your swongs and I admire you so much!" And it said the same thing indeed in messy and colourful writing.

"You are amazing." Taylor hugged Moon again, she was a bit emotional to say the least. "I am gonna cherish this forever, thank you so much. You are such an amazing artist."

"Thank you so much." Moon blushed shyly making everyone chuckle.

"You wanna take pictures together on my Polaroid?" Taylor asked. Moon of course said yes.

Taylor kept one with her and gave one to Moon with a little message on the back.

It was the best night for Moon.

YN only hoped she could remember it when she grows up, but her parents would forever remember the same for her. Moon spent three hours with Taylor that evening, they had dinner together later that night.

Moon definitely thought Taylor was going to be her best friend forever and ever that she asked her to call her whenever she is free, surprisingly Taylor agreed to that. That made Moon ever more happier.

....................................................................................

Moon was fast asleep in the car when they all got home, she was exhausted.

It was the next morning when her dad surprised her with her favourite breakfast, which was pancakes with her favourite fruits.

"Mummy." She walked up to her mum in her office with sleepy eyes for cuddles.

"Good morning my baby." YN was quick to pull her up in her lap.

"Mornin." She mumbled. "What are you doing Mummy?"

"I am just taking care of a few things baby." She explained to her.

"Oh." Was her only reaction.

"Are you still tired?"

"Mhmm." She nodded and nuzzled closer to YN's chest and tried to sleep again but she could smell the delicious pancakes her dad was making in the kitchen. "Pancakes?"

"Yes, Papa is making Pancakes for you." YN shared, "do you want to go brush your teeth and your hair and eat pancakes?"

"Mhmm." She seemed a bit upset and YN didn't know why.

She let her daughter be for a while as she helped the little girl brush her teeth and hair before they headed out for breakfast.

"Hi my loves. Good morning." Harry chirped as he went and kissed his wife first on the mouth and then his princess. YN set her on her high chair as she went to help him.

"I don't know why she seems a bit upset." She whispered to her husband.

"No, why?" He seemed puzzled about it.

"I don't know..."

Harry went to his daughter with a plate of pancakes, he had made a little smile face the blue berry jam and cut up little strawberry hearts for the eyes, syrup and extra fruits on the side.

"Hey princess what got you so upset?" He cooed to her, "did you see a nightmare?"

"No." She mumbled, "I saw we went to see Taylor and there were a lot of her friends there, she gave me so many gifts."

"Oh baby you thought that was a dream?" Harry tried so hard to hold back his chuckle.

"Mhmm." She looked down at her plate with sad and teary eyes.

"Oh no, can I share something with you?" Harry asked making her look up at him, "it was all real my darling. Here." He walked up to the coffee table in their living room to get the basket of goodies and the Polaroid.

The instant smile on her face put her parents heart into ease.

"It all happened, really." YN assured her. "We took off the bracelets because we didn't want you to scratch yourself in sleep." She gave the little girl the bracelets.

And she was happy again.

They spent the rest of their day watching movies and preparing and making an elaborate dinner to invite Grandma Anne and Aunty Gemma.

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[readychilledwine]

Hello. Hope u r feeling good. I was wondering if u could write something again. This one is particularly personal to me. Picture it. Reader is daughter of any one of the bat boys. If cass Or az then single dad. She has been bullied since the day she started school as a child because she has a problem when it comes to studying. As she grows it's her looks. The ic, notices her behavior is starnge. Like, snapping at small things, crying when they correct her or raise their voice. She has never told anyone because she doesn't want them to stress out and the bullies said that she was so worthless because she keeps running to her father for everything. Her dad finds out soon. U can decide the ending.

Oh my love 💜 all three of our boys got you.

Head Held High

Summary - After being born with Feyre's looks, but illyrian wings, Rhysand and Feyre's daughter faces challenges wherever she goes.

Warnings - bullying, signs of low self-worth, anger, inferred adhd or other learning issues, older brother coming in to do the older brother thing while protective dad does the dad thing

You had him wrapped around your finger the second you came into the world.

His beautiful baby girl, wide eyed and filled with curiosity and happiness.

You truly were a stunning little thing, but how couldn't you have been with parents like Rhysand and Feyre? He loved you even more for being the small version of your stunning mother. Her nose, her lips, her hair. The only piece of you that screamed you were his were those star flecked eyes.

Your childhood was filled with love and joy. With you constantly praised for your looks, for your smarts, or your imagination. Rhys and Feyre never thought anything of your wild mind. They loved it. They loved how sporadic you were, how one thing was never enough for you to stay focused on. They loved your random outlook on the world.

To Rhys, Feyre, and your significantly older brother Nyx, you were the world. They sheltered and loved you, thick and thin, protecting you from darkness and meaness at every turn.

It wasn't until you began lessons that you truly saw how unkind fae, especially those your own age could be.

You hated school and struggled to focus during lessons. You were busy, you told yourself in your little mind. Busy day dreaming of far away places, daring sword fights, a knight just like daddy or Uncle Az and Cass, mainly Uncle Az if you were honest with yourself, rescuing you from enemies.

Your grades reflected that. As did how your peers treated you.

"Silly y/n," one girl giggled when she thought you couldn't hear. "It's a good thing she's pretty, 'cause she's dumb."

"Her mommy couldn't read either. Maybe that's why."

In class the jabs were subtle enough that your teacher didn't notice, and when they did, nothing was done.

No one at home noticed either. No one noticed when you began to hide away more, when you stopped playing with your big brother after school. No one noticed when you weren't dreaming about being rescued anymore, but instead dreamed of running away.

Things did not get better when you were sent to Illyria, Uncle Cass and Aunt Nesta in tow, to begin training. You knew comments about your intelligence would be coming. You'd never expected comments about your looks, though.

"Imagine looking like your mom and trying to pass as an Illyrian."

"Her mom isn't even that pretty."

"Never said she was either."

You'd hide behind your wings constantly in public. You'd started eating alone. Stopped talking at home.

Cassian had tried asking what was wrong one night. His large hand running up and down your back as he spoke gently enough to you to shatter your aching heart a little more. "Just leave me alone!" You finally screamed at him. "I just want to be alone."

He wrote it off as homesickness, calling for Rhys and asking the High Lord to come visit you.

Rhys noticed it then.

He noticed the way you tucked behind your wings in shame. He noticed you eating alone. He noticed you never had a training partner.

He noticed your loveliness.

"Darling," a soft knock came at your door. "We need to talk." You curled further into your bed, your father refusing to enter or leave without your permission.

"Little love, please," his voice was pleading with you. "Let me in. Let me help you." You felt the gentle claws on your mind and blocked him out harder.

"Y/n, please. Don't shut me out." You'd never heard his voice break like this. The Crack that indicated he was about to cry. "I know what it's like to feel like you're the outsider here. I know what being this lonely feels like and how it eats away at you."

You heard something soft hit the door. "Babygirl, please. Let me come talk to you. Let me settle any feelings you're having. Let me help you. Please don't make me force myself in."

Shadows appeared in the corner, blue reflecting in them every so often. "I have her, Rhys. I'll come get you in a second." Your father yielded then. Yielded you to the arms of the Shadowsinger. "I've been watching for a little while." He admitted, "we've been worried for a few weeks."

He sat down on the bed next to you. "You stopped writing all of us. I know I violated your privacy and independence, but we all know how being out here can be. We all knew there was a risk of you being targeted the way we all were and the way Nyx was."

Azriel placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles. "Your dad is the most worried. He did not want to send you here. He wants to bring you home."

You sniffled hard, finally lifting your body and shifting to sit next to him. "It's not any better there. I'm stupid in Velaris. I'm ugly here."

Azriel's jaw tightened. "Let me go get Rhys." Your uncle stood, walking to the doorway and leaving it open as he spoke softly down the hall.

Your dad was a mess when he entered. His hair was sticking different directions from how frequently he was running his hands through it. His face was tear stained. His shoulder slumped in defeat as he practically dragged his feet.

Azriel motioned for him to sit next to you, shutting the door so the three of you were alone and pulling a chair from across the room to sit in front of you. "Tell him what you just told me, little bat."

Your breath hitched as your hands began to shake. You could feel your eyes watering as you looked down to your unkept nails. "Taking me home won't make a difference."

Your dad pulled you close to him. "It would make all the difference, darling. We'd just send you back to regular-" Azriel shook his head at his brother, silencing him.

"Tell him the rest of what you said, y/n."

"I get made fun of in Velaris for being stupid, I get made fun of here for being ugly. It wouldn't make a difference."

Your father's world shattered then and there. Azriel stood, leaving the room to allow you to time alone now that the truth was out. Silence hung in the room. Interrupted every so often by your soft sniffles.

"How long," your father's voice broke again. "How long have you been getting picked on?"

You shrugged. "Since you started sending me to lessons."

He nodded, looking up. "I'm sorry I didn't notice, darling."

You didn't respond, only holding yourself tighter. He started. "I learned around your age, that holding my head high and not letting others see how much their cruelty hurt me tended to lead to it ending, but There is no merit in either of those statements"

He pulled you close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Are you easily distracted in school? Yes. Uncle Lucien always pushed us to teach you outdoors in a less formal environment with private help. You would have thrived in that setting. That is on me, y/n. I picked a public lesson setting so you could socialize." He paused. His jaw twitching. "You are not stupid in any sense, though, y/n." He motioned to the countless books stacked on your dresser. "Those are all educational texts or intense world building fantasies that you have taken the time to notate in a color system with separate journals filled with notes. That is not the action of someone who is stupid."

He tilted your face to him. "And you are not ugly. There is not a single court or location in this world where you do not meet or exceed their beauty standards. Anyone who says otherwise is either in denial of their attraction to you or blind. I never want to hear you say you are ugly ever again, darling."

A loud slam interrupted the heartfelt talk as your other brother entered the room followed by your cousins. "This is nice and all pops, really it is. Touching." Nyx walked to you, getting on his knees in front of you. "Their names, sis."

Rhys hid his smirk. "I never said your uncles and I weren't also going to do this, Nyx."

The heir rolled his eyes. "You can have their piece of shit fathers. I get the ones my age." Nyx grabbed your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. "Their names, y/n."

You gave them to him without hesitation. "Be nice," you said softly.

Nyx froze in the doorway. "You have mom's heart, y/n. I have dad's. You handle it with kindness and grace, I'm going to handle it with my fists and intimidation."

Your father pulled you close to him again. "Never change anything about you, little love." He stood moving in front of you and tilting your head up by your chin. "Just hold your head high, y/n. Hold your head high, walk away, and let dad and Nyx take care of the rest." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a camp leader to beat the shit out of."

He paused at the doorway, turning to you. "I'll be right back. I promise. Maybe you could make us some hot chocolate and we can have a cuddle date like we used to?"

Your eyes lit up for the first time in years, making him smile and laugh. "There you are, darling. My beautiful girl."

[cat-mentality]

Sad QSMP headcannons that have like half a toenail in canon.

The French version:

Baghera cries very silently, like someone who is used to having to keep quiet.

She also has a very high pain tolerance and she didn't understand why until recently.

When Pomme disappeared Baghera was terrified that the Federation had something to do with that, terrified that her little girl would be at the hands of the people who made her and hurt her so badly.

As much as she wants to hate the Federation for having hurt her, at the same time she can't and that makes everything so much worse.

Baghera doesn't have wings. But she does have two scars on her back where no feathers have ever grown.

Antoine was not prepared to actually get attached to any of the French, or even to Pomme. He knows he is in too deep, has too much to lose if he cuts ties with the Federation, and yet it twists something inside of him when he thinks about their possible reactions, especially Etoiles. For the first time in a very long existence he understands what friendship is, knows what it feels like instead of just watching others experience it, and is very aware that he will lose it all.

That is why Antoine was so pissed off at Osito for being careless with the picture, the earlier they discover about his true past, the earlier he will lose them.

If the Federation truly had Pomme he would have burned it all down himself just to bring her back.

The first time Cucurucho saw Antoine angry was after the torture session nearly killed Pierre for good. No one knows who was more shocked by his display, Cucurucho or Antoine himself.

Pierre continues to trouble sleeping and constant nightmares when he does, he can't remember the last time he managed to truly rest without waking up in a cold sweat or screaming, he is always on the verge of passing out and even when he does crash he still has nightmares.

He refuses to acknowledge it or even talk about it, hides his exhaustion with everything he has, pushes people away just to make sure they wouldn't realize there is something wrong, too afraid they will see a weakness to be exploited.

Pierre hates being alone as much as he craves it- He likes being by himself working on his machines and keeping his secrets close to his chest, but at the same time when he is alone is when the dark thoughts take over

He will, on occasion, not exactly seek to get himself hurt but not exactly avoid it either- If he can feel pain it means that there is something human in him doesn't it?

But Pierre hates dying and he will avoid and lash out when put into such a situation. He fears what will wake up, if it will still be him.

Sometimes Kameto look at the rest of the Islanders and he wonders what his own life could have been, what sort of bonds he could have forged with people, if the Federation didn't come for him first.

Etoiles does not know what his worth is if not as a warrior.

He is not smart like the others, he doesn't build pretty buildings or incredible machines, he doesn't know how to do anything but fight. And if he can't fight, if he can't protect the people he cares about, then why is he still around?

War is everything Etoiles really knows. By the time he reached his late teens and was released from the battlefield he had seen more combat than some people in their old age, everything he knew how to do was to fight, he had nowhere to go, knew no one, had nothing.

He was never able to settle down for too long or even to truly build himself a home, Etoiles knew so very little about the world that he just decided he would explore it. Some people in the army talked about things they missed, things they thought worth fighting for, and Etoiles wanted to understand that feeling of fighting for anything but his own survival.

To this day he still feel more comfortable fighting than he ever does doing anything else.

None of them ever had families.

The concept of family was something Antoine learned by watching other species and for a very long time it was not something he truly understood or could relate. It was only after the plane crash and Pomme that it hit him that maybe he can understand this thing now.

Baghera always thought she was just an orphan with amnesia. She had very little memories of her young years and none of them involved other people, just her and a room, so for a long time she believed she was alone in the world. Even now she struggles with that emptiness, especially now that she knows that the Federation may be the closest thing to family that she will ever have.

Etoiles had parents once. He knows he did, but he cannot remember their faces or even their voices most of the time. He was still just a small child when they came for him and sent him to war.

Pierre was always alone. He had parents but they could as well be ghosts haunting their home, he hardly could see glimpses of them from time to time, all he ever truly had were his machines.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Black Swans

(Chapter 10 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (implied), Smoker x Reader (implied)

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, physical abuse, obsessive/toxic relationship

Chapter Synopsis: As Big News Morgans’ spin on you and Doflamingo’s new relationship hits the front pages worldwide, enemies and allies react. The past is also reflected in the present as Doflamingo’s need for you remains a danger for you both.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,   5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10, 11

——————————

—————————— 

It was barely dawn, the perfect time to be going through her morning stretches as Tashigi swung her sword gently. Moving slowly from one stance to another, extending her body and holding her balance in each position as she did so.

Being on deck this early gave her more room, and less snickering from some of the other crew. But still being one of the youngest aboard, she had been working on getting a thicker skin about that kind of teasing. So many of her fellow sailors still only treated her like a little sister at best. 

But, that wasn’t wholly unwarranted either as her glasses slid down her nose and she did nearly fall, ducking as a large bird swooped right past her head abruptly.

And then another, and yet another as she straightened up in surprise while the watchman in the crow’s nest above called down to her. One bird had landed by the swordswoman, but many more were still passing overhead as they were spreading out to the other ships dotting the horizon this close to the island they were patrolling past. 

“Grab it, Tashigi! What’s got the news coos so riled up this morning?” The watchman yelled.

“I’m trying!” She had to push her glasses back up to even see the bird clearly. And it spread its wings a bit impatiently as she did reach and take one of the many papers from its leather pouch before it flew again for its next delivery.

“Well!? Who did what, sword girl!?” The watchman still was calling out loudly.

“Hold on!” She was now fighting to get the paper unfolded in the sea breeze to view the front page as she started to read the headlines first.

“Princess Nefertari Vivi was almost kidnapped!” Tashigi yelled back. “Um, she wasn’t though. And then Warlord Doflamingo got engaged…to her? Huh!?”

“What!?” Some other deckhands shouted in unison from the railings above.

“No, wait my glasses are dirty! That can’t be right…” Tashigi was getting flustered, realizing some of the salt spray of the waves had gotten onto her lenses again.

“Someone take the paper from her!” The watchman shouted back to the other deckhands.

“Why are you all goddamn screaming!?” Smoker barked back at them all then, now coming up the stairs from the galley. 

He had his cigars already in his mouth. A mug of hot coffee still steaming as he carried it in one hand.

“Smoker, sir!” They saluted. “Captain on deck!”

But he was scowling, seeing Tashigi nearly lose the paper to the wind as she’d been trying to clean her glasses against her shirt.

“Just give me that already!” He chided her, snatching the newspaper away with his other hand.

More crew had wandered back to deck at the commotion and were clearly waiting as their captain’s eyes went to that front page.

But everything went silent. Silence except for the wind fluttering against the sails and rigging above. At least until Tashigi abruptly yelped. The young woman having to quickly move her feet away from that splash of scalding hot coffee as Smoker’s cup fell to the deck.

“Smoker-san!?” The others called out in surprise.

Both his hands were gripping the paper now as he quickly turned the pages, glaring eyes slightly widening in disbelief the more he read and saw the pictures that accompanied it. 

“Get me the long distance snail, now!” He yelled back to the crew members still hovering in the doorways.

————————— 

“They are not engaged, Garp. Goddammit quit making this worse!” The Fleet Admiral snapped back at his friend, speaking loudly over the cacophony of snails still ringing throughout the office.

“In our day, if you took a girl’s hand and made a picture like that, that’s an engagement! The little shit knew damn well what he was doing!” Vice Admiral Garp insisted just as stubbornly. “And that’s not the worst. The worst is coming for you. Tsuru tells you to watch out for that girl and now you won’t even let Momonga intervene? You’re just going to have that pink jackass carry her off without a fight!? Tsuru’s going to skin you alive! As she should!”

“Listen to me for once in your wretched life, you idiot! I was specifically ordered to stand by! You think I want to sit here and do nothing!?” Sengoku still argued back, their competing voices more than echoing down the hall at this point. Even before the door had swung open and in come Kizaru and Aokiji to join in on the already chaotic scene.

“Sir, that pirate doesn’t have the authority to do any of this! King of Dressrosa or not.” Aokiji spoke immediately, uncharacteristically awake and even riled this early in the morning as he came to stand before the desk.

That contrast of Aokiji’s strong reaction was all the more stark in comparison to Kizaru’s who merely strode over to the couch against the wall. Taking a comfortable seat there instead as he spoke easily. “Just send me, Fleet Admiral. I’d be in and out in no time to pick her up if Momonga is too worried about the optics of it. They wouldn’t even see me long enough for a photo. Just say she had another assignment that came up is all…simple.”

Sengoku’s currently harsh gaze moved from Aokiji, then to Kizaru before he started to speak in return.

But yet another voice cut through before he could. The last of his three admirals now filling that open doorway, large arms crossed like a wall across his chest. “This mess is what Momonga deserves for letting that woman board his ship in the first place.”

Kizaru only raised a curious eyebrow at those new harsh words, but Aokiji fully pivoted to turn in an instant and face Akainu as they stared one another down.

“Oh, get over it.” Akainu answered in response to that new look of insult on Aokiji’s face. “Every thing that girl touches ends up this way, doesn’t it? Think with your real brain for once, Kuzan. The best thing you ever did for your career was to let that one go.”

Kizaru whistled in reaction to that genuine barb, the very slightest smirk on his face before multiple things happened all at once.

Steam shot to the ceiling as Akainu had raised his forearm to block the incoming ice. The ice which had hit his magma skin then sending scorching heat in all directions as Kizaru disappeared with a yellow flash from the couch.

Aokiji was thrown immediately down before he could even attempt another blast however, Vice Admiral Garp grabbing his former student by the back of the collar and taking him to the floor in one decisive shot like a misbehaving child.

As Aokiji’s chest had slammed to the ground, Kizaru only appeared again at the other side of the room. The yellow suited admiral now holding the bleating pet goat that had previously been in the damage radius of all that steam.

Sengoku sighed loudly as Kizaru walked the unharmed animal back over to him, its little bell ringing while it kicked its legs helplessly before it could be set back down near its master.

Aokiji shifted then, pinned to the ground on his stomach still, and too surprised to properly resist really as Garp’s other hand had twisted the ice admiral’s arm so easily behind his back to further hold him there. 

“Bet you didn’t think this old man could still move that fast, did ya, kid!?” Garp laughed loudly. Not even putting in that much effort to achieve such an iron grip before he did let Aokiji up again once Akainu had reverted back from his magma state.

All this transpiring just before a large part of the now heat damaged ceiling collapsed into a haze of dust and cracked plaster right down onto Sengoku’s new carpet.

The Fleet Admiral’s teeth were fully grit as he pushed his glasses back up his nose while that dust cloud spread. His blood pressure rising with it as his new voice left zero room for further disagreement.

“Here is what we will NOT be doing any further this morning! We are the pride of the goddamn navy! And we will not be instigated into infighting all because of one, spoiled brat of a pirate!”

Garp scoffed, unimpressed and prompting a brief glare of death from Sengoku, who only continued unabated.

“And going forward, none of you three are allowed to engage Doflamingo without my explicit approval!” His eyes locked directly onto Aokiji’s in that moment as well. 

Intel had of course gotten back to Sengoku by now of Kuzan’s unsanctioned trip to the warlord’s residence on Sabaody. Sengoku hadn’t known the extent of things then. But Doflamingo’s new behavior in addition to Aokiji’s reaction to it were now more than enough to make this picture of jealousy clear. “And if these orders are disregarded, strongest disciplinary measures will absolutely follow!”

And all three admirals gave varying signals of surprise to those words. At least seeming to agree on one thing, that the choice of inaction was never the preferred path when faced with a pirate’s clear disrespect of the uniform.

And Sengoku’s voice did lower again even as he still seethed. His hands were far more tied than they could ever understand. Not until one of them finally sat in this chair one day.

“This comes straight from Mariejois as well. The government is intending to milk this fiasco as a public distraction I’m sure.” It was already being framed as some goddamn fairytale thing. A king publicly falling for a soldier, or more specifically a sailor in your case. 

But Big News Morgans had to go above and beyond even that interpretation as always. 

In Morgans’ version, you were actually the knight out there saving your princesses. A subversion of the normal children’s archetypes. And King Doflamingo had taken notice, now choosing you the knight instead of said princesses. 

The only thing Sengoku truly couldn’t tell his men was that a warning of this very thing had already happened, years ago. And that both himself and Tsuru had clearly misjudged the longevity of that danger.

She was going to be furious, just as Garp had said. But more at herself than anyone.

Because Rosinante had insisted to them many times that tragedy would be the result if they didn’t keep you far enough from his brother’s influence. 

You were only one of many topics that had come fast and desperate in those shorter and shorter phone calls before the end. But one that the marines would now be forced to face as their own failure once more. 

—————————— 

You could walk again at last. But with that return of feeling also came terrible pain. Your thigh ached all the way to the bone, skin pulling against those makeshift, string sutures with every step. It was all you could do not to visibly limp as you’d walked past all those leering pirates on either side of you while you boarded Doflamingo’s ship.

Your head was still held high, rope dart weapon wrapped on one shoulder, and your long marine coat moving behind you in the last of that Scyllian breeze.

The characters on the back of your coat read boldly as “justice” in stark contrast to the struck through, smiling jolly roger now being hoisted above you to shadow the deck below.

The Donquixote pirates had concealed their ship’s true ownership when arriving. But there was now no further need for discretion, especially in the spectacle that this morning had already become.

No, you knew full well that Doflamingo wanted those reporters on the dock to document his victory while his banner flew proudly above your head. Every additional photo from their flashing cameras having to be something you chose to ignore as you did your best not to falter before so much public scrutiny.

But even you didn’t have the mental endurance right now to stay above deck for long after. As soon as you felt you’d put on enough of a show of indifference, and that the camera lenses were too far at last to reach you, you’d disappeared down the first set of stairs you’d found.

Down into the tight wooden hallways of someone else’s ship as you put your back to the wall and finally trembled. 

Whether from mostly anger, or exhaustion, or still just plain shock, you couldn’t separate the emotions trying to overcome you anymore.

The pirates did keep their distance from you then at least. You suspected that they’d been strictly ordered to. No one following you into that dimly lit hallway but their captain himself. 

The small space feeling all the more claustrophobic then as you looked up into those reflective red sunglasses while his large palm splayed on the wall above your head.

Pink feathers brushed against you in that closeness. His scent so apparent again as you tried not to stare at his bared chest from beneath the now open coat and shirt.

He was back in full form now, body heat radiating as he bent in enough to speak against your ear. 

“You did well…I’m proud of you. But it’s enough now. No one’s going to hurt you here.” And yet even as he said that, his other hand was feeling up across your injured thigh. 

You did wince without being able to help it at even that light pressure, and you heard Doflamingo’s resulting smile in those words which stayed contrastingly soft beside your ear. “My wounded little bird…come rest those wings with me. You have no reason to fly anymore.”

And you knew what he was going to do before he did it. He’d done this last night as well when helping you out of the ballroom when you still couldn’t walk.  

You heard him chuckle too as your arms went around his neck instinctively this time. Making it easier on yourself to not be jostled as much while one of his arms went behind your knees and the other behind your back as he lifted you up to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.

All the way to the captain’s quarters as his strings had pulled the door handle down. His knee easily nudged the door open before he carried you across the threshold into his bedroom.

You heard the door shut and lock behind you almost immediately. Likely his strings doing it all now even as he kept carrying you straight to that oversized bed.

He clearly preferred these luxuries, even at sea as your back was finding his plush mattress soon after.

And he was still smiling, reveling in this really while you watched him push his sunglasses up as you now laid beneath him. He let those glasses rest in his blond hair, exposing his then prideful eyes so soon to you again before he leaned back down to kiss you.

You were absolutely done by then. You’d never slept last night. You’d never had a chance. Awake the entire time, arguing and then eventually pleading to Vice Admiral Momonga. You didn’t understand why nothing could be done. You knew Momonga had called Sengoku. That they had argued too. But nothing had changed.

All your things had still ended up offloaded from Momonga’s ship and handed over to actual pirates instead with the simple report that you were indeed being assigned to Dressrosa for now. Effective immediately and with Doflamingo gloating all the while as he had never left your side last night. He hadn’t slept either, just having his servants pack back up the villa that you’d only briefly gone back to to clean yourself and change before this walk of shame to port this morning.

And now here you were. In a bed with him all over again as he kissed and stroked you. But with a rare gentleness that you were sure was only temporary and brought on solely from his current high of success.

You’d let him slide that coiled rope dart right off your shoulder. Your weapon placed onto the nightstand before he’d untied and slid your boots off for you as well. Then kicking those curved black shoes off his own feet before he pulled his legs back up to further ensnare your body as you lay together.

With his arms holding you too, you disappeared a bit into all those soft feathers of his coat. But he kept his face against yours in the open air above all that pink. Still smiling even as he let his eyes already start to close.

“Sleep for now, love… We won. And we’ll be home soon.” The demon promised. 

———————————

“Hey, what’s he doing now? He was the one telling us last night that we’d have to hurry before we’d miss the tide this morning!” The boy with the orca shaped hat exclaimed.

“I don’t know, he’s been staring at that stupid paper since we left him here earlier.” The other boy with the penguin hat answered.

They were fussing amongst themselves, struggling to carry all the supplies they’d purchased in town as they made their way back to the cove.

Their equally young, teenage captain was currently sitting on a rock near the water’s edge. The crew’s yellow submarine listing gently as high tide began to recede around it. This morning’s news coo paper still in his hands.

“Um, Captain?” The polar bear mink that had been walking beside the other two boys asked almost timidly next, sitting his own supplies he’d been carrying down into the sand before he moved forward. 

Law’s eyes shifted, coldly glancing to the side at his friend as the bear approached.

Bepo squirmed immediately under that stare, but didn’t give up yet. “The tide’s going out…we won’t be able to clear the rocks if we wait…”

“I know that. It’ll be another twelve hours until the water’s deep enough again.” Law sighed at last, that stiffness in his shoulders breaking somewhat.

“Sooo…are we’re staying here then?” Penguin questioned with a head tilt.

“No, get in the damn submarine!” Law stood from off of the rock, the newspaper now rolled in his hand as if he might smack them with it.

“What are you so moody for!? We’re getting in the sub!” Penguin whined, nearly running into Shachi as they both clamored to get back onto the deck of the Polar Tang in such a rush now.

But Bepo held back, fidgeting a little as Law still stood there in the sand.

While the others loaded the vessel, the mink noticed how his captain had already unrolled that paper again. At least enough that even Bepo could now see the tall blond man in one of the main headline photos. That man’s eyes concealed by a red mask, but his smile entirely unsettling. At least to someone like Bepo as that man also held a woman’s hand who was so close to him in the photo.

“She looks afraid.” Bepo said before he could help himself. Noticing that detail too, even where someone else may not have. It looked like a nice, even loving picture of a couple otherwise. Except for the man’s off putting smile and the woman’s concerned eyes.

Law’s chest rose and fell, he looked to the ground a moment before staring back to the bear. “He’s the pirate I used to work for, Bepo. He’ll do anything to get what he wants. I’ve seen him do it.” Law’s voice actually even wavered there, just for a moment at least before that emotion was buried again.

Bepo’s dark eyes widened though, picking up on that too before a warm paw went onto his captain’s shoulder then.

For once, Law did allow that attempt at comfort too. Only bristling slightly, but not pulling away as he revealed even more. It was so rare for him to talk about his last pirate crew. Yet when he did, these negative feeling always tried to force their way out of him.

“I thought she looked familiar.” Law said. “But I saw her name and then it finally clicked. Corazon…the guy I told you about. He tried to help her too once. To keep her away from him. But Doflamingo always wins. Even after this long. Just like he got Dressrosa. Just like he got immunity with the government.” 

Law sneered then as well, almost in a mirror to that strange smile from the photo in the paper in that moment. “What kind of karma is that, Bepo!? Why can someone like him just keep getting his way every time!? While people like Cora…they just disappear. They just get erased and forgotten!”

“But you didn’t forget Cora.” Bepo answered so sincerely then. Bravely really, and with no hesitation as Law stared at the mink in return.

Law scowled as his bottom lip shifted just a single time before he pulled away. As if it had wanted to quiver. “Yeah. I didn’t. But we’ve got a long way to go before I can do a thing about it.” 

And he’d stormed off at that to help the others finish loading the submarine before the tide would leave them. Bepo then hurrying faithfully behind him as they regathered the stack of supplies now falling over into the sand.

——————————-

But later that same day, after the supplies had all been packed away and the course to the next town fully set, Law had still slipped back away from the other boys. Further into the submarine under just the excuse of sitting to practice his powers again.

They hadn’t even left the North Blue yet. They didn’t even have a real crew yet. Not in his critical mind at least. They were still just kids sailing around in this submarine that Wolf had gifted them.

Everything right now was just the very first building blocks to the dream Law had had…or the nightmare rather. The things he wanted to accomplish one day with this second life that Cora had given to him.

But he hadn’t been ready to feel these emotions again so soon, nor had he realized how raw it all still was for him. Not until the very moment he’d seen Doflamingo’s hungry grin on that newspaper this morning, 

A monster that was still feeding on others even now, still taking, never sated as he only ruined one additional life after another. It was the same kind of destruction that Cora had given everything to spare Law from.

And as the boy sat there alone, making small rooms atop the table with the movements of his hand, that newspaper and its triggering images still lay before him.

There was finally a shine of wetness in Law’s eyes then, no one else to see it now before another flick of his fingers had that paper levitating before him. Just for a moment before he jerked those same fingers to have one of his pencils shooting right into the newspaper. It stabbed a hole straight through the throat of that man he still hated this intensely. 

It was like being there all over again though. Law remembered exactly who you were now. It’s not that he particularly cared about you as an individual of course, you were just another victim in a sea of the same. But the difference to him, was how clearly your capture showcased Doflamingo’s true tenacity. That devil’s willingness to play the long game every time.

Because it’d been so long since Corazon had spoken of you. All that time that Doflamingo could have fully moved on to literally any other obsession with anyone else. But true insanity didn’t work that way. And Corazon had understood, and thereby feared that part of his brother more than anyone.

——————————

It had been several years ago. The Donquixote crew celebrating as they always did whenever narrowly escaping Vice Admiral Tsuru’s warship. Partaking in their usual routine once returning safely to their hideout in the North Blue.

But that night had still been different. Doflamingo had been different. The change even noticeable to Law. The young boy, pale and tired sitting on a torn blanket on the floor as he dismantled and cleaned each of the many guns one by one that the older crew members had handed off to him. His assigned task that Buffalo was supposed to assist him with, but somehow never did.

Baby 5 had been giggling, also skirting her normal post mission responsibilities, playing instead in one of the treasure boxes. One of the heavy chests that Senor Pink and Gladius had just dropped on the middle of the floor before they went back outside for more.

Law knew that Buffalo and Baby 5 often got additional leniency in exchange for the usefulness of their powers in battle. But Law had nothing like that. Just his brain and his aching hands, the amber lead spots larger on his skin every passing year as he still cleaned the guns dutifully.

Doflamingo himself was sitting in the leather armchair nearby. One glass of red wine after another downed. Not participating in any of that tedious manual labor of course, but smirking at Baby 5 all the same as she’d run over to him with a gold crown she’d found in all the loot even that quickly.

“Young master! This is for you!” She beamed, with some oversized, jeweled necklaces already hanging down her dress nearly to her knees as well while she offered the headpiece only to him.

That was when Law had first realized the odd mood the Donquixote leader was really in as he’d leaned down all the way, having to bend at his waist to bow his head enough for Baby 5 to crown him, her arms fully outstretched and on her tip toes as she did.

And once that crown was on his head, he cocked it slightly to the side intentionally, straightening back up with a grin as Baby 5 curtsied before him. “Your majesty!” She giggled again, then running back to the additional treasure boxes as Senor Pink and Gladius had returned with yet another one behind it.

Buffalo grew interested in all that gleaming gold too of course. The larger boy and Baby 5 starting to then bicker over some stupid antique coins they’d found, before they’d dropped them all and some went rolling.

Law was still most intent on their leader though, too used to the other children’s immaturity already. He had seen Doflamingo look over to Corazon next who was seated on the couch beside the master’s chair having a smoke.

“What do you think, little brother? Too much or not enough?” Doflamingo was outright fishing for compliments then, wine glass still sloshing in his other hand as he motioned to the crown. 

But cigarette smoke was all that came out from the other Donquixote in a silent puff as usual, Corazon shrugging before stretching out his lanky legs across the floor without much opinion.

The pirate captain only looked somewhat disappointed at that lack of reaction, before an interruption of annoying laughter had both brothers looking back to the doorway anyway.

“Behehe! It really suits you, Doffy!” Trebol barged in then, with Diamante close enough behind him through the door. Something white was folded in Diamante’s hands. “But we’ve finished unloading the ship now, and we have one more surprise for you!” Trebol declared.

Of course Doflamingo’s eyes could not be seen beneath those red glasses. But Law had noticed the way Corazon’s eyes had instantly widened, if ever so briefly as that white fabric was unfurled from Diamante’s grip.

Doflamingo too had straightened up in his seat at the reveal however, cruel smile reforming across his face so instantaneously. “Oh? And who exactly did that get ripped away from?”

It was a marine coat. The standard issue, long and white. At least formerly white, with small blood stained holes and rips now marring it here and there. Particularly where one sleeve had partially separated at the shoulder.

“Well, Doffy, you’d told us you’d seen that girl again this morning. But only through the spyglass when she was with Tsuru.” Diamante now spoke, wearing a wide smile of his own from almost ear to ear. “And this afternoon while you were indeed occupied with Tsuru, we found the girl again on our own. They were trying to sneak up on us from behind. Between Trebol and a I, we were able to separate her from her colleagues.” At that, Diamante tossed the coat across the room in one smooth movement.

Doflamingo caught it easily, but still watching his officers. 

“My apologies though.” Diamante added. “I did have her by the back. But she still slipped right out of it. She’s quite fast. We knew you’d still appreciate the trophy regardless though. But I assure you we won’t miss such an opportunity again.”

And even still being that much younger then, Law remembered the way his stomach had oddly turned as Doflamingo’s long fingers had probed through one of the bloody holes in that fabric, finger curling alongside his ever darkening smile. As the Donquixote captain’s head had tilted, he’d pumped his fingers briefly through that blood stained tear as well, as if in test. “So this is really hers?”

“It is.” Trebol assured, voice also different then  in a way that had made Law completely forget the gun oil still in his hands.

Law almost spilled the bottle of that oil actually as Doflamingo had suddenly pressed that collar and the shoulders of the dirty coat to his face, taking an audible inhale of whatever scent may still remain from its owner.

Law had never seen a person actually do such a thing. And Corazon was staring as well as Doflamingo began to laugh, one fist still clutched into that coat as his white teeth gleamed in real pleasure.

His laugh was loud and shaking up from within that deep place those most intense ones came from. Enough so that even Baby 5 and Buffalo had finally stopped their bickering, silencing as they looked to the young master.

“Well done. All of you.” Doflamingo finally managed. And he’d spread his legs as he leaned back in the chair, yet another glass of wine soon down his throat as he let that coat lay across his lap. 

His cheeks were actually slightly flushed by then, whether from the intense laughter or all the alcohol. He was not himself.

At least not the Doflamingo that Law had long learned to both respect and fear as Corazon had also seemed uncomfortable, watching his brother as well. 

Staring enough that Doflamingo had finally looked back to Corazon. Those red lenses reflecting the light, some other king’s crown still  caught in his spiked blond hair.

“Don’t be so judgmental, Corazon…don’t you want your brother to be happy?” And there was still an edge to those words, almost a challenge.

And suddenly Doflamingo had stood. He grabbed the wine bottle itself as he did. Not the glass. He turned that entire bottle up, his adam’s apple moving up and down with the sound of the remaining liquid leaving the bottle as he drank every last drop. 

He left the empty bottle as it fell. Just the coat was still in his hand as he walked, but his other hand grabbing Corazon by the back of the neck as Doflamingo had passed behind the couch.

Corazon did nothing to fight back, nor did he react with any surprise. Still smoking his cigarette as he tilted his head back for them to then look at one another as Doflamingo loomed over him.

“Tsuru thinks I won’t have that girl…but I will. And you two can both be wrong together then.” He was smiling wide again, before he leaned down. That cruel mouth nearly against his younger brother’s ear before he whispered something else into it.

Law could only watch as Corazon’s breathing stilled at whatever those words were, an unreadable look in the Donquixote officer’s red eyes before that moment had passed just as quickly.

Doflamingo then shoved Corazon abruptly by the neck as he rose back to his full height. Seemingly just taunting his little brother all the more. But rough enough as Corazon, clumsy as he was anyway, nearly fell forward off of the couch. Embers dropped from his cigarette to sear little spots into the top of his pants.

And Doflamingo just watched as his only blood family tried to sit back up and brush off those hot embers simultaneously before they could burn him. 

“I’m going to bed.” The captain did announce to everyone though, pulling at his pants a little as he did, like they were bothering him. His face still seemed somewhat flushed. “You all do whatever the fuck you want.” 

“But it’s only nine.” Buffalo said somewhat stupidly. Normally all their drinking and eating after successful missions went well into the night.

“He didn’t say he was going to sleep.” Diamante grinned.

None of the kids understood this part of it then.

But Doflamingo only chuckled, truly a little drunk by then and fully unashamed as he carried that coat with the marine girl’s blood and scent on it into his bedroom and slammed the door.

Corazon had stood up not long after as well, looking somewhat stricken still and flashing a piece of paper to the room that said he was going out for a walk.

Law had ended up following him too. Not immediately of course, but long enough after. When the other adults were too drunk to give a damn where anyone else might disappear off to.

Things had already started to change between himself and Corazon by then. Corazon knew about the D. in his name. And Law knew that Corazon could actually speak.

So when he did find the younger Donquixote, far from the hideout and sitting on a pile of scrap metal in the moonlight, Law hadn’t wasted any time.

“What the hell is going on with the captain? He was being weird all day.” The boy fussed abruptly.

And Corazon had immediately startled, nearly dropping his cigarette as he glared back to Law. 

But he also saw Corazon look around. Very carefully in fact before suddenly the ocean waves in the distance could no longer be heard.

“Is everybody else passed out already then?” Corazon still spoke low, even while using his devil fruit power.

“Well yeah, I’m not stupid.” Law retorted, the chip on his own shoulder still so big at that time in his life.

“Strongly disagree.” Corazon deadpanned anyway, taking another drag on his cigarette. “You wouldn’t be out here otherwise, kid.”

And of course Law snapped right back, more of that young petulance front and center. “Well you’re out here! So you’re as dumb as anyone!”

And that painted smile had spread a little there. Corazon looking down at him again. This time, not hardly as cold. “Heh. You don’t know the half of it.” But he did flick his cigarette, letting some of the ash fall before he put that bad habit right back up to his lips.

He mustn’t have felt like arguing right now though. He’d looked more tired than normal even for Corazon. “And as I know you won’t damn go to bed until you’re satisfied…fine. Let’s talk. The answer is that my big bro is having a rough day today. He’s got marriage on his mind.”

“What!?” Law had stammered immediately.

Loud and abrupt enough that Corazon had almost dropped his cigarette again. “Stop doing that!”

“Then stop saying stupid things! Our captain’s not going to marry anybody! Did you fall and hit your head again, Corazon!?”

“Well…maybe. But calm the hell down! Trust me, that word has an entirely different meaning for Doffy. It’s not a nice thing.”

“Huh?”

And Corazon sighed. “Look, do you swear you’ll go back inside and go to bed if I tell you this? You need to quit damn worshipping him anyway. Maybe you’ll start to believe me for once.”

“Okay, I swear.” Law had just said without hesitation.

“Quit holding your fingers behind your back you little jerk.”

“I wasn’t!” Law lied.

Corazon rolled his eyes. “You’re too young to understand anyway. But my brother doesn’t just like things. He owns them. He controls them. And if he really likes something, then hell…it’s over.”

“What?”

“See! You are just a dumb kid!”

“I am not! It’s not my fault you can’t explain anything for crap!”

And Corazon groaned. “Okay. I’ll give you an example. Your parents were both doctors right? So you know how bodies work? ….But have you ever held a bird? Especially a really small one? Did you know they don’t have a diaphragm?”

Law’s eyebrows had lowered in more confusion. But yes…he actually did know that from old biology lessons. But he was shocked that Corazon would. And he still didn’t understand how it had anything to do with the topic at hand.

“Well what happens to something without a diaphragm if you put pressure on its chest?” Corazon asked next.

And Law did have to think about it, just still completely caught off guard in the random turns of this conversation. He knew exactly what the muscle of the diaphragm did. It was used for expansion and contraction of the chest, allowing the lungs to inhale and exhale.

But birds used a combination of air sacs with rib movements to achieve similar if he remembered right. But without the strength of a diaphragm, the force they had available to expand their own chest would be much less. So he quickly reasoned that a strong enough external pressure would stop that movement completely. They’d be helpless.

“It…wouldn’t be able to breathe?” Law answered, still unsure if these were the pieces he was supposed to connect.

And Corazon did blink. “Yeah…I guess you’re not so dumb after all.”

But before Law could fully react to that additional teasing, Corazon had looked far more serious.

It was an expression that actually made Law nervous again. Because both of the Donquixote brothers had a similar way their facial muscles stilled when they were really considering something.

And it was intimidating. Even on someone like Corazon.

But the man had already seemed to make up his mind to say even more though as he eventually kept on. “Well, we weren’t always pirates you know. When we were just kids, we did have some pets. I guess that wasn’t too weird compared to everything else. But Doffy had a favorite. See…our mother had these birds, swans actually. And then those birds had babies. But only one liked Doffy. This little black one that never bit him.”

And Corazon sighed then, fully putting out what was left of his cigarette as he shoved the butt into the dirt beneath the scrap metal pile. His broad shoulders had sank somewhat. “So can you guess what happened to that little bird, kid?”

Law just stared for a moment, but finally nodded. Corazon’s somber body language making it all too clear as Law watched the man stand then.

But somehow Law still felt like he had to say it out loud. Because this was the lesson that Corazon had wanted him to understand. The only reason all of this was being confessed at all.

“He held it too hard…he killed it.” Law spoke into the darkness.

And Corazon’s eyes were pained. Proving that this conversation was also about far more than a child’s one time mistake. “And he’s never learned since.” The lanky man replied before he had started to walk, Law still following behind him as he did.

It wasn’t really a conscious thing yet to want to stay together. Neither of them fully realizing that shift in allegiance already beginning in the boy.

“Hey, Corazon…” Law did look back up at him after a while too.

“Yeah?”

“What did your brother whisper to you back there to make you run off? You looked really weird when you heard it.”

And Corazon scoffed. “I already told you. He’s got the future on his mind. He thinks he needs to check some certain boxes once we’re in the New World. And she’s one of those boxes. You really don’t want to know what the rest was about though. Let’s just say it must be flamingo breeding season whenever she’s around and leave it at that.”

“Ew! That’s gross! You’re not supposed to tell me that!” Even then Law was pretty sure you weren’t that much older than him. And he did know how reproduction actually occurred. He knew in the context of old medical textbooks at least.

“Well then don’t ask! That’s your wonderful leader, kid.”

The now former leader who was still smiling this many years later, so disconcerting in that newspaper as Law continued to glower down at his pierced photo in the present day. 

And the more Law stared at that image of you and Doflamingo, the more he realized that the black feathers in the mask you wore were the same as a little bird’s who had stopped moving within a child’s hand once. 

The same black feathers that had been stained with so much blood in the snow as Corazon had also taken his last breath.

Doflamingo was now on his third black swan.

——————————— 

Something was tickling your cheek as you finally opened your eyes and lifted your head slightly within the feathers. 

The haze of sleep was slow to recede as you tried to get your bearings.

A heavy arm was over your back. Those pink feathers encircling you as you tried to silently blow away the loose one that had landed on your face.

It all carried his scent. Those expensive colognes you hated to admit you were already becoming used to. He didn’t always wear the same one. But you could pick any of them out immediately by now.

And you assumed you’d see those bicolored eyes of his watching you hungrily as always when you’d finally glanced up from your place against his warm chest. 

But you did pause at the view that met you instead this time.

Doflamingo’s eyes were closed, lean face relaxed. His lips were parted as he breathed audibly, deep and steady. The red sunglasses were still barely hanging on in his hair where he’d left them, completely skewed now and almost endearing in that lack of care.

He was absolutely out.

And you could not stop staring, a bit in awe at how truly different he looked this way.

One of your hands was still on his chest as you realized in this new stillness that you could even feel his heartbeat beneath your splayed palm.

You bit your lip slightly in your further odd reaction, the responding warmth and tightness in your own chest making little sense.

Of course he had a heart to move his blood around. Of course he couldn’t hold those face muscles into a look of cruelty even in his sleep. 

But he looked younger like this. He looked like a man that would have had real friends. A man that would have woken with a real smile for you, and never would have hurt you.

An extremely pretty lie once more.

Gently, you removed those sunglasses from his hair regardless, sitting them quietly on the nightstand before they would fall to the mattress. You sat those infamous glasses on top of your weapon there beside the bed. Not missing the significance of those barriers both being set aside willfully now.

And you laid back down as gently as you could afterward. His bare chest still your unexpected refuge while his rhythmic breathing never changed. 

It should have made you even angrier, that he could do so much to you and still sleep this soundly. No guilt to be had in him at all.

But it was far more complicated than just this. He was both the cause and the relief to so much pain as your eyes had soon closed again. 

—————————— 

The transponder snails in his quarters must have all been put on do not disturb that morning. Because you and that warlord did sleep half the day together like that. 

The first thing you’d remembered next was him finally stretching. That warm torso you were still pressed against tensing and then relaxing again as you felt large hands starting to roam over you. It felt like he was checking how much clothing you were still wearing actually.

Which was all of it. Both of you had only taken off your shoes before passing out here. And you did contemplate feigning like you were still asleep to see how much longer he would leave you alone.

But it was quickly pointless. A hand was then beneath your marine coat and starting to tug your skirt down from your hip already as you grabbed his wrist in response. 

Your injured thigh was still so sensitive of course. You were trying to protect it as your sudden movement did earn a chuckle from him. “Relax. I’m not going to open up your wound…though you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d quit trying to save every brat you come across.” He both greeted and chided you simultaneously as you’d awoken.

“They were going to kill her.” You argued, albeit without much bite to it yet as you were still not fully awake.

“Maybe…probably.” He smiled at your lingering sleepy tone. “But it happens every day, love. Much easier just to focus on your own family going forward and leave it at that.”

And you felt your skirt being pushed up then instead. Him changing the tactic slightly, but still clear on his intent to get that fabric out of his way. “I still think you’d like one of your own.” He said next though. Voice just as taunting while his fingers were now playing with the sides of your underwear.

“I already have a family,” you said plainly, but still not really looking at him.

“I don’t mean our crews and you know it.” His tone darkened some at that, his grin back all at once as his hands grabbed you by the arms.

And before you could fully process, he had pulled you even closer to bury his face into the collar of your white marine coat. Fully into the fabric while you heard him breathe you in. 

The sound was like an animal, catching onto a scent it so desperately wanted more of. And he stilled for that moment, only breathing in your body and warmth. Like your coat itself was triggering him as much as anything. Stirring up something even older as his voice finally came out again, albeit far more stressed. “Have I told you how very many times I’ve wanted to rip this uniform right off of you…”

You cursed though as he bit your fucking coat without warning after, right over your chest. That switch in him had flipped again. Something you had yet to learn to fully predict.

The pressure from his jaw still badly pinched your soft breast even underneath the layers of fabric. His saliva coming off that long tongue as he only released the bite long enough to move your coat further open. 

And when it was, he then had that wet maw back on just your shirt instead. He was sucking your breast even through the thin fabric. Bra also be damned as one of his hands did reach under your shirt to roughly push those cups up and out of the way before he bit down yet again.

“No.” He said, short and harsh then. Lifting his mouth just enough to scold you as you’d tried to of course push his face back away at the pain. “This is what I need….I’ve thought of the day I could really bring you home. I’ve wanted it so much…”

And you couldn’t possibly understand. 

But that already growing bulge was tightening behind the bright capris pants as he pushed his still clothed erection between your legs next.

Your shirt was now sticking, wet over your breast as he started gradually thrusting as well. Almost fucking you without actually fucking you as your hands gripped into his hair in the growing pain.

If he thought this was somehow less rough than the real thing, he was fully wrong. All that pressure on top of your wounded leg, and against the bruises from bullets that had never pierced your skin. It was almost intolerable.

But he was spiraling quickly into his own problems, his own memories regardless. With his tongue then fully hanging out, he’d now jerked your underwear down your legs.

Your skirt was already bunched up around your waist. While the tented front of his pants ground against your then exposed slit as he groaned, tongue only briefly receding with his additional words. 

“Why do you always do this to me…” He questioned, real irritation forming in that odd tone as his fingers started to claw at the drawstrings of his waistband all the same. Like he just wanted to shred them too in his growing impatience. “Fucking making me so hard it hurts…then goddamn running away all those times. I hated it so much.”

And he had risen back up, your hands falling away from him as he used both his own to pull his pants down. Open and loose around his ass then as his already precum smeared cock moved out into the air.

You made a pitiful sound of course as that wide head of it was immediately being drug between your folds instead. He had his hand around his shaft as he pressed the tip of himself against your clit and started so roughly rubbing the two against one another.

“You know how often I had to pump this goddamn cock for you?” He still asked, sounding angrier all the while. Even as he was edging your entrance and stroking his own shaft simultaneously. “I wanted you…but you started fucking marines instead. So I had to go fuck so many nobodies and a goddamned prick who still backstabs me every chance he gets.”

And you were starting to pant, hurting so badly as he was no longer paying any attention to his weight on your wounds while he straddled and berated you with this escalating nonsense. 

“I didn’t even know you then!” You finally yelled back at him.

“And whose fault was that!? I was waiting for you!” He just snapped in return, just as he did push inside of you, making you cry out as always as you stretched.

But he still laughed even on top of that, starting to pump his hips as his hands grabbed tightly to your body beneath him. His fingernails dug in for purchase as he started fucking you harder and harder.

“Regardless…we’ve still got to make up for lost time…Scylla was just the beginning. You owe me so much more.” He hissed, the bed shaking in rhythm with his pounding into you. 

That pink feather coat was still over his shoulders. Enveloping the two of you on either side as his animalistic drive showed no hint of slowing.

You were outright gasping in pain, and it was only encouraging him. 

But the thing that finally put you over the edge was when you felt a new wetness beneath your leg. Warm and red as those string stitches gave up at last.

He had broken his word and done exactly what he’d said he would not do. Too rough, too needy, too much all at once.

The blood was pooling to stain your white coat still beneath you as your body then reacted on its own accord. His mind was too far gone in this current tangent, seemingly needing to torture you for crimes you couldn’t even know.  

So you snapped on him in return.

Your fist slammed into Doflamingo’s bare abdomen so incredibly hard. Compressing it violently, with haki crackling out even the other side of his back as he hadn’t had a single defense ready for you.

The gasp that came out of him was full of spit and even bile from his stomach as he crumpled forward.

His cock was still inside you as time seemed to stop. But the way his body reflexively pulled in on itself, and the way his arms came up defensively with his head ducked beneath them was still something you’d never seen from him before.

Because his mind hadn’t known he was in danger, he’d had no warlord level fight response ready. By surprising him that fully, you’d seen almost a cowering posture if for just that single instant in that man.

A body language you knew immediately as you’d experienced it in the past yourself. In that moment, you actually saw the muscle memory from someone who’d been beaten before. An abuse survivor who’d grown into an abuser themselves.

That final thought weighed heavy in your mind before time restarted.

Strings jerked your arms viciously, holding them away so hard that your joints burned. Burned and stretched so that you could not possibly block before his own armament infused strike came down across the side of your face in return. The sound of the crack echoing through the room as you spit blood over the pillowcase.

You swallowed reflexively, moving nothing else but your eyes as you stared back up at him then panting above you with his fist still clenched.

Spit and the smallest bit of vomit was on his chin, his eyes wide and staring down at you.

But then he’d seen it at last. The red growing beneath you both on the bed.

——————————

Doflamingo was still in shock, mind trying to catch up when he realized how wet his leg really felt. For the briefest moment he’d thought you’d somehow stabbed him as well. He truly didn’t understand. 

Arousal and adrenaline and confusion were all one big knot in his mind as he still felt like he needed to puke from the force of that surprise uppercut straight into his guts.

And by comparison, you were calm. Lying motionless beneath him even after all of this. As hard as he’d hit you in return, your eyes were still clear and sharp. You were waiting for him to catch up on the situation. One animal watching another.

And finally he did have that higher moment of clarity.

“Goddammit,” he breathed at last, wiping the mess from his own chin with the back of his hand. That adrenaline which had been burning through his chest then changing to a more complicated feeling once again when he realized what he had done. 

He’d misjudged his strings’ longevity on another person’s body was what it came down to. The makeshift sutures’ hold was apparently not as good when on anyone else but the String-String user themselves.

It wasn’t like he ever did this for others to really know any better though. His strings were for cutting down foes, not for mending his treasure.

And all he could do right now was replace them. Fresh strings as he ran his fingers over your wound yet again, smearing that new blood as he laced you back together. He’d just have to keep changing them until reaching Dressrosa now. He didn’t have a good enough doctor on board to handle this otherwise

Not one that he’d trust you to anyway.

And only when the blood flow had stopped again did he finally look back to your face. You still watched him quietly with blood staining down your chin. Some had even run to drip onto your throat now. 

He hadn’t held back when he’d hit you. 

And the composure you maintained, even with his strings glistening tight against your arms and all that blood remaining across your leg and down your chin made it impossible for him to lose his erection. He hadn’t even pulled fully out.

“I didn’t keep my word.” Doflamingo finally admitted however, still hard as anything between his legs as he watched you below him.

But his desire couldn’t be overstated. Every memory, every need, and all the times he’d laid awake fucking his own hand or whatever remnants he could find of you while just thinking of tearing you down one day. That had stayed with him so much more than even he had realized.

You were a fantasy become real. He didn’t know what else to do.

“I felt it ripping open…I just reacted.” Was what you said at last though. Not emotional, not accusing, just telling him why you’d done what you did.

And he did smirk at your straight forward approach. Oh, you were absolutely still a wounded little bird to him. But you now had so violently just reminded him that this little bird would still bite.

You were so unlike the random, pretty strangers that normally passed through his bed and cowered all the while. But also different than the indefinite danger of conquests like Crocodile who may “bite” him the entire encounter unless properly muzzled.

You were a blend somewhere in between those two extremes. Soft enough that he would still trust sleeping beside you and offering you his blind side. Because somehow he did know that you didn’t actually loathe him by now. And you had that core code of honor as well still dictating your every life choice. 

But you were also hard enough that there was still a line there somewhere that he would have to keep exploring. A boundary in you that when crossed, his little bird would absolutely turn and try to take a piece out of him.

Yes, everything happening now was actually only cementing his belief in having made the correct choice to take you with him at last. 

And as that heat pulled back into his chest, he moved his hand again. Releasing you from his strings that he knew you’d still been using haki to not be cut by.

You must be in a lot of pain right now.

“I can finish without pressing down on you…” He assured again.

His stomach still hurt as well as he slowly began to pump in and out of you once more, albeit actually controlling himself this time even as he smiled through the pain. His thighs he spread wide enough so that they were not against you any longer as he held his weight off of your body as well. Only his cock was still sliding in and out of you in a near gentle rhythm.

“We’re both going to cum, lover…and then we’re going to have a warm bath together.” He said as his newest promise. One he could actually keep this time as his thumb moved affectionately back over your clit. 

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stand up long in the shower right now. So drawing a bath after this was the very inviting alternative. His quarters had both options.

And he didn’t fucking care if sitting too deep in the bathwater would make him feel weak by the curse of his devil fruit. He still wanted the privilege of doing it with you. He wanted to be the one to wipe away that blood that he’d made you spill, and almost tenderly clean his mate for the spotlight that would surely now be awaiting you both in Dressrosa.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[yupstep]

-Legal Name: Aina Calland (No longer goes by that name)

-Call Sign: Zona (picked that name because she saw half a Arizona green tea can that only read ‘Zona’ and thought it was cool)

-Age: 26 8/18/1997

-Nationality: Norwegian

(She speaks Bokmål dialect, her English is a little broken and sometimes she’ll get words mixed up. Fork and f*ck are often an issue when pronouncing)

-Height: 5’8” / 68”

-Weight: 145lbs

-Body type: Toned | Abs | buff thighs | itty bitty titty committee | slightly toned arms | Strong endurance but horrible balance.

Body Notes: Chest tattoo is the Troll Cross which is believed to offer protection. Her back has the Valknut triangles for the loss of her father and wings to guide her.

-Family:

Mother passed when she was 5 in a drunk driving accident. Father passed when she was 17 from CVD caused by unhealthy smoking and drinking habits. She was close with her father, he took care of her and her sister well. Older sister is alive(more info on her later)

-Personality:

Zona is pretty easy going, her mind thinks before she acts during most situations. She is politely aggressive, will often be heard saying please or thank you while cussing someone out. She has dad humor as well as a little bit of dark humor when she thinks no one is listening. Zona has a mild case of Tourette’s, she mainly will whisper small noises as she works or repeat sounds that catch her attention. It’s not very noticeable unless looking for it to happen. She gets awkward around large groups of people she doesn’t know and prefers to stick around a familiar face. The poor girl is an introvert that wants to be an extrovert. She thinks in pictures so visuals are a lot better than verbal instructions or making her read.

Zona started her career to be EMS after finishing high school at the age of 17. She wanted the adrenaline rush of having to think fast to save lives while being physically active. She got a head start in high school and studied for 2 years to get her bachelor degree in Paramedic Science then began her Vocational school right after.

BACKSTORY: (In the works will probably mess with this along the way)

Zona often volunteered her time to help with disaster relief and emergency assistance with the Red Cross in Norway. After a terrorist attack in France, Zona and a few others at her work offered to assist with NATO to help with humanitarian needs in France. It was volunteer based and had an unknown time line. While she was there another attack took place, Zona along with other volunteers and civilians were taken hostage by the terrorists group. She was transported to an unknown location(we still figuring that out) where most hostages were killed or used for ransom. They used Zona as a POW and forced her to tend to their wounded due to her medical background. She was captive for 5 months before Chimera infiltrated the hidden base.

MORE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED NEXT WILL COME : D I gotta draw more art cuz the plot thickens. I also suck at writing so please forgive me if things don’t make sense…

[edgessunflower]

Heyo! Could I request a for Dick/night wing for yj? Dick doesn’t tell anyone he has a girlfriend and one day reader shows up at base to meet up with him and everyone is on edge and super confused? 💚

Ooooh surprise lover trope I gotcha you boo 🤍

Surprise meeting

Pairing:Dick Grayson x reader

Description:You surprise the team meeting them for the first time finding out you and Dick are together

You smiled after seeing the sweet text you got from Dick deciding that instead of eating lunch at your house you decided to get takeout from the local Italian place and meet dick for lunch.You also decided that you would surprise him texting Tim to wait for you outside the cave so he could take you to dick and him agreeing as you order lunch then getting it and going to mount justice with tim meeting you a couple blocks down from mount justice leading you to the cave as you look at the beach and sky around you.You both go in the cave hearing others laugh waving at Beast Boy who you had met multiple times through tim hugging each other for a minute going pass everyone without noticing except Megan who saw beast boy run to you as you and tim walk in raising an eyebrow in confusion having never seen you before but turns back to everyone else and laughs at the joke Artemis made directed towards Wally."Hey baby" dick turns seeing you holding lunch thanking tim for helping you and giving you a kiss on the cheek both of you sitting down eating and enjoying the time together while tim goes back to everyone hanging out with Jaime and beast boy letting the two of you have time together before you had to leave to get ready for work.The two of walked out after finishing lunch and talking for awhile realizing you had 3 hours to get back and get ready for work so dick decided to walk you out while tim and gar took you back to your house "Who's she?" you heard looking to see the rest of the team looking at the two of you as megan floats in the air looking at you "Looks like cat's out of the bag dick" tim says drinking coffee beside beast boy eating chips "Hi everyone...I've heard a lot about you all from dick and I've been wanting to meet you for awhile" everyone perks up looking at you until megan comes up to you gently landing on her feet "You're megan I remember that smile in the team picture he showed me" she smiles big and brightly at you as Connor and Artemis come up "You're artemis dick said you always had a determined look in your eye and you're connor you have wolf and you and megan are together" he smiles shaking your hand as everyone introduces themselves to you surprised how much dick told you about them and that you remembered it all.After awhile of talking to you they immediately liked you and wanted you to come back anytime to mount justice even some of the girls planning to steal you from dick to hang out with you making you smile and laugh as you give dick a hug and peck on the lips leaving with tim and gar back to your house making him love you even more.

[marabelle5]

Gandalf

Pearl opened the doors of the Crystal Cliffs Library. She was looking for her favorite (and only) librarian of the Crystal Cliffs. She walked to the front desk of the library passing rows of bookshelves and the fireplace where patrons would sit at this time of year to warm up. 

Her phone binged and she saw that the Codvengers would be on watch duty tonight. Pearl smiled, she had a plan to eat dinner with Gem tonight they’d maybe rope Sausage and fWhip. When she got to the front desk she saw Gem staring at a cat who looked to be reading a Lord of The Rings Book. Pearl was in her blue hoodie; it had the moon phases on the sleeves Grian gave her the hoodie for they’re birthday some years ago.

“Geeeeem.” 

“Pearrrrl”

“Why are you staring at that cat?” 

“He keeps wandering in here and always gets on the Lord of The Rings shelf.”

“And now he’s here at your desk.”

“Yep.” At that moment three kids ran into the library excitedly.

“Hello High Wizard Gem.” The three said to the librarian. Pearl recognized these three from earlier they had gotten some hot cocoa from her. Then the kids turned to the gray cat who had his nose still in that Lord of The Rings book. “Hello Great Wizard Gandalf.” Gem looked confused.

“Great Wizard? Gandalf?” A hint of confusion was in Gem’s voice.  

“Yeah! He’s an old and ancient wizard of the Crystal Cliffs” The girl with black hair said.

“And his name is Gandalf because he likes Lord of The Rings so much.” The one with brown curly hair pitched in. The cat tapped Gem on the shoulder and then tapped the picture of Gandalf.

“Okay so you're a cat named Gandalf. That is totally normal.” Gem replied. The kids said goodbye and ran out but walked because Gem yelled at them to do so. The library was empty and so Pearl said this.

“The Codvengers are going to be out tonight.”

Gem looked up from her cleaning. “Does that include Kathrine?” 

“No. You want to head to Mythland to grab dinner?” Gem nodded her head and after she was done cleaning was done cleaning. They took Gandalf and the Lord of The Rings book and headed to House Blossom. It was almost closing time when they got there. Kathrine had a flower shop plus a kitty cafe. 

“Hey Kathrine.” Pearl said as she opened the door for Gem who was holding Gandalf.

“Hello Pearl and Gem. What are you two doing?” Kathrine looked up from the flowers she was attending to. 

“Gem has this cat who is named Gandalf who likes to read Lord of The Rings books.” Pearl replied. 

“Interesting.”

“Would you care to take care of him for a night?”

“Let me go do something for one second.” Kathrine turned on her heel and headed to one of the back rooms. Then she came back and said “The Overgrown grown would love to take care of Great Wizard Gandalf for a night.”

“Thank you, House Blossom.” Gem replied. Pearl and Gem exited House Blossom and headed to Mythland which was past Gilded Helianthia. 

The invisible wings on Pearl’s head shot up. She grabbed Gem and pulled Gem closer to her and she took a step back because right where Gem had just been standing purple light struck the ground. The Copper King hopped down from his perch and Pearl saw The Hermits. 

[slippinninque]

☀️Crusin'🚘

You have a wonderful day

Fontaine x blackfemreader

warnings: Fluff, some cursing, longfic, mentions of drinking/smoking,

The sun blazed but there was no better day to do it, in your opinion.

It was what Dream Wheelz Cruise deserved, after all. When the 'hood came together to show off the rides they've been working on beneath Jack Frosts' nose. It was very much a pageant for the die-hard mechanics and customizers.

The cruise was destined to go through a few cities. A long, beautiful line of creations and well kept machinery that welcomed all appreciation and celebration.

Businesses and storefronts either closed for the day and offered their parking lots as impromptu showrooms or offered their services and wares to the walking auto-fans.

Many walked their way through the cruise as most cars were parked and those interested in rolling on to the next city cruised at a leisurely pace. There was a unspoken rule of respect to mind the careful speed as much of the foot traffic could leak into the street.

You weren't brave enough to partake in that rule, so you minded the helpful cones and barricade stands to keep your direction.

Revving engines, excited people, music blasting--it brought the very concrete to life. The good mood was infectious as strangers laughed with one another in passing, handing out free merchandise of handy work or paint jobs.

There were popup stands and food trucks dappled the area, offering refreshments of all kinds. You smelled the delightful scorch of grills and watched as hand packed ice-cream flew out window. There was something extra in a lot of the coolers and definitely something loud in the air.

Your favorite part was everybody was stepping out in their freshest 'fits and looking to be pictured with some dope cars. This year, you decided to follow suit.

In honor of the beautiful day--you decided to show some skin. White shorts with a matching white and silver the circle-sequin cropped camisole. You braided your locs up into a bun though a few of the shorter ones escaped shortly after.

Armed with your camera--you set off with one mission: To enjoy yourself!

You saw a olive-pearled 1970 Cadillac DeVille Convertible, it's owner an absolute starlet as she leaned against the door to smoke a cigar.

There were twin girls bouncing about their grandpa's sable Chevrolet El Camino while their grandmother threw a few wings onto a small grill a few few away.

An endless flow of flawless metal and hearty characters, so ready to share their special creations. You'd bet there would be an ache in your neck from your constant rubbernecking a you walked.

When a Lotus Esprit rolled past, you nearly lost your shit. It was painted in tribute to Kill Bill with a pair of blazing, blue eyes stenciled artfully on it's left side. You ditched your spot in the slushie line, but the photos you got were more than worth it.

You ran into the elders of your block who decided to come together to see the precession. You sat and chatted, a plate of somehow making it's way onto your lap. The lot of you traded photos and told the others what you've seen. Before departing, you made sure to snap plenty of photos to pass out later.

Your quota for pictures was met two-fold. This year came along with a promise to appear in more photos--not just the background. So, when someone offered to take your photo in front of their wheels after a chat? You accepted.

With the way you winked and twinkled in the light, you could see a few heads turn from the corner of your eye. By lunch time, your face ached faintly from all the smiling you've done and your tote was heavier with goodies on your shoulder.

Walking slowly, going through your camera roll filled you with pure satisfaction. You looked as happy as you felt inside.

Someone called your name and it popped your thought-bubble. Whirling to follow the second call, you grinned at who was coming to meet you.

" 'Taine! I didn't know you'd be here!"

You held a hand above your eyes to see him better. He was wearing grey sweats, a white tank, and then a smile when he caught you staring. Fontaine clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head as you fumbled to change the subject.

"Uhm--I'm goin' to submit again this year." You stammered and grabbed your camera for proof, "I'd love to get a photo of you and your boys to add to my streak!"

" 'Course. 'Moss went off to get some ice for the cooler. C'mon and chill with me for a bit if you ain't doin'."

You brightened and nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything. Fontaine winked at you and gestured for you to follow. Behind his back you let your mouth drop open a bit, marveling at the turn of events.

---------

Fontaine found a great spot, half-shaded by one of the trees lining the miscellaneous lot further away from the heart of the cruise. You spotted Big Moss' '70 Chevy Suburban he only took out on special occasions. It reminded you of the Flintstones sherbet push-pop. It's polished orangesicle finish with light blue detailing was electric in the day light.

Fontaine waited for you to finish snapping your photos of the cars in the lot, walking with you and offering a nod to the drivers who weren't posted at the nearby Coney truck.

"Pretty, pretty girl!" You whistled as you finally saw the Grand Prix. It was polished down. Every bit of it gleamed in the light, Fontaine's care to detail showing all over it.

Fontaine grinned, scratching at his nose a bit bashfully, " 'Preciate you but I can't take all the credit. Junebug helped with the drying and chose the air freshner."

You laughed, just knowing that the kid was tearing up the road somewhere with his two-wheel gang.

He opened the back passenger door for you to sit as he leaned against the Pontiac. You dug into your tote and pulled out your last water bottle, offering to share with him.

"I don't have cooties, just to let you know." you said after he insisted you have your fill first.

He only accepted it when you drank more than half of the bottle,

"All ya'll women got cooties. It's cool, though. Ain't gonna hold it against you or nothin'. "

"First off, ya'll gave them to us!"

You were 52% sure that Fontaine knew that you had a crush on him. Taking into account that half the women in the Glenn had thing for him, you have yourself some grace.

Though...if Fontaine didn't mind being near you, didn't that mean something? If he kept up with your previous photo submissions, wouldn't that be more than nothing? It felt different than friends but not quite more. Like you were a page apart from each other.

Being like this was enough for you, though. Having easy conversation with a flirty center, it was more than good enough. The cherry on top is when Fontaine allowed you to snap a photo of him posed in the front of the Pontiac.

"Oh, you real with it." Fontaine said when he saw you kneel, taking your time focusing the lens.

" 'Preciate you." you repeated back absently, catching his smile with a flick of a shutter.

"Can I go next?"

You startled and turned to see a group of ladies. From the looks of it, someone was having a birthday if the matching air-brushed shirts was any indication. The one who spoke wasn't the one who was wearing the crown, though. Which seemed to be an immediate problem.

You looked to Fontaine to see him begin to speak, but the party group erupted into who was going to go first and what was appropriate 'birthday behavior'.

Standing back up and watching them for a moment, you couldn't help but to feel for the birthday girl. Then you felt worse for what seemed to be the only sober friend of the quartet.

You were prepared to suggest a group photo when you felt a touch to your elbow.

"C'mere, 'Bit. Lemme see something real quick."

Before you could respond, Fontaine led you away from the curb and placed you neatly onto the hood of his car. The metal was pleasantly warm under your thighs. Before he pulled away, you grabbed his wrist nearest.

"What about your paint, my shirt have the-the things!"

Fontaine pinched your chin and pulled your camera loose to aim at you. The sight shocked you into compliance as you appreciated how good Fontaine looked behind a camera.

"Gimmie somethin'." He said to you, ignoring the dying argument behind him. A few walkers saw you posted and the bickering women before they waited off to the side admiring the Grand Prix.

You fought the urge to clam up. Keeping it simple with a grin and peace sign wasn't enough for Fontaine, who sucked his teeth loudly.

"Girl, I know that ain't all you got!"

"Well excuse me for not wantin' to scratch up anythin'..."

"All you gotta do is keep looking good," Fontaine threw a high-brow look at you before ducking back behind the camera, "Keep that little attitude on yo' face. S'cute as hell."

As if the sun wasn't enough in it's beaming down on you, Fontaine's words sent you into a whole different level on the Scoville scale.

Failing to catch it in time, your giggle spilled through your fingers. Fontaine hummed and the shutter sounded rapid fire.

Those who lingered tutted and clucked but he paid them no mind. He focused only on you. As if it were only you and his car, as if there was nothing else worth note in the sea of classics and supers.

Those eyes made it easier to breathe. To relax against the hood in a lazy recline. Fontaine made a noise, took a step back and another flurry of shutters.

For the next while, you played model as Fontaine played photographer. He took shot after shot, you leaned up against the Pontiac with vintage flair, hips tilted with a flirty wink.

Sitting pretty with your hands folded neatly in our lap, on your best first Lady Obama Picture Day realness. You forgot who you were with for a moment when you knelt down next to the rims, arched and popped.

"I like that one." Fontaine announced immediately. A man, somewhere behind you, agreed. Fontaine's face flattened as he glared into the crowd as you laughed.

You were then helped to your feet, the crowd dispersed to be visit the other Old-Schools and Supes. You couldn't find it in you to be apologetic for hogging 'Taine a little.

You both poured over the photos and when you realized that you only two 2 photos of Fontaine while he took a dozen of you. When you pointed it out, he shrugged.

"Shiet, you tryna tell me the block ain't gonna know this me?" he was all low-toned, "The car, I mean."

"Well, with me being all over it--might be a mistake of...circumstance." You spanned your fingers on the warm hood.

Fontaine took a step closer to put the camera's band back over your neck.

"They goin' know what it is, 'Bit. I'm gonna make sure."

Looking up at Fontaine as he slid his eyes from your brows to your thighs, that sweet heat returned and you. You knew you weren't talking about cars or the cruise anymore.

Looking away to clear your throat, you could see Fontaine's head tilt as he tried to keep your gaze.

"Um, those food trucks aren't so busy now," you shrugged a bit, "You wanna grab a bite?"

Now it was his turn to lean against the hood, his edges fuzzed by the sunlight.

"Was actually shootin' to take you somewhere nicer"

You made a surprised noise, "Oh! Were you now?"

"Hm. Planned on asking you to ride with me. Was gonna take you to that Caribbean spot everyone been talkin' about in the next county."

"Pretty full proof, I would say! You got the entertainment and food handled. Where are we in the plan exactly?"

Fontaine's expression was fond at your teasing as he pretending to think over your question earnestly.

"Not too far, 'suppose. I did think I would have you sitting in my front seat by now, gorgeous."

Those eyes caressed you as best they could, matching with Fontaine's obvious interest. This made you tongue tied and hot cheeked again.

"And Big Moss?"

"I'm sure he'll find that ice."

When you looked over your shoulder to the closed door of the Grand Prix, Fontaine moved past you to open the passenger door. You brushed a hand over his as you got into the car.

What a wonderful time. You think you finally understood the cat who got the cream, that absolute content from getting what you want.

"You gonna hook your phone up?" Fontaine asked as he started the Grand Prix. He revved it once, twice just to see your estatic grin.

You took the aux cord when it was offered and snugged back into the seat as Fontaine pulled the car out of the lot. The Grand Prix was welcomed into the sea of precious metal, another ripple in summer's wave.

"I have the perfect song to start..."

--------------

ending notes: Siiigh to ride off into the sunset with this dude 😌And yeeees, you put on D'Angelo's Crusing Thank you so much for reading and being patient with me! 💕💜✨I hope you're all having a wonderful, sunny summer!☀️✨💜

taglist:@megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter 10: The Soliloquy

Gale Cleven x Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: After finding themselves in German territory the girls find themselves under interrogation and have a less than pleasant stay at Dulag Luft. Meanwhile Gale has to face his feelings of losing the woman he loves.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

October 22nd: Dulag Luft: Frankfurt, Germany

Lying on the cold, stone floor was a far cry from the bed she was used to back at The Grove, or Thorpe Abbotts for that matter, yet it was still better than the rough cot in the corner. The fabric seemed to move on its own accord, and she could only imagine the infestation that had taken over between the sheets. The mattress was barely a few inches thick and the material was horrible rough.

Heavy footfall sounded outside the cell door before it swung open, grating against the floor with a harrowing screech. The two Luftwaffe officers stood before her, standing over her small form.

"Steh schnell auf!" The first officer called, marching over to her, "Up, now!"

The second officer appeared beside him, yanking Hope upwards despite her protests. She dug her feet into the cobbled floor, pushing her full body weight against the officers, but they didn't resist, continuing to drag her down the corridor.

Hope found tears forming in her eyes as she fought against the men that likely decide her fate. Were they going to kill her or worse would they torture her first? Death would be the easy way out at this point, in fact she would welcome death if it meant finding peace again.

The officers marched her into a small, office-like room and shoved her down into a rickety leather chair in front of a large mahogany desk. It was stacked high with folders, classified documents, and piles of letters. Her dark eyes roamed over the desk catching a glimpse of a familiar faces. Ruth. The picture was small and only half exposed but she'd recognise those blonde curls anywhere. Hope wondered if Ruth had been in this room recently. Whoever owned the office had clearly been looking over her file. She wondered if Frank's and her own file were in that mound too. What information would they have on her?

"Warren Sie heir," one of the officers instructed, slamming the door loudly behind them.

Hope knew very little German but regardless of what they had said she wasn't moving from the spot. Her heart was racing and she felt nauseous, the bile building in her throat. Her eyes remained trained of the half exposed image of Ruth in front of her. Somehow it bought her some comfort that her friend was okay. But the niggling question of , where was Ruth, and was she okay filled her mind? Her mind was full of unanswered questions and she wondered if she'd ever see her friend again. It felt like it had been a lifetime since she had seen the last glimpse of Ruth's face as she'd disappeared into her cell. Hope wasn't sure how much time actually had passed but she was sure it felt longer than it was. Her mind drifted to Frank too and she found herself reaching forward, a shaking hand brushing over the files on the desk to expose them. What would become of Ruth and Frank?

She turned to the sound of the door clicking open and saw another officer enter, his hair smeared down to his head and he wore a friendly smile, too friendly, the kind that made Hope feel uneasy.

"Ah, Lieutenant Armstrong, how nice to meet you. Are you well?" He grinned cheerfully at her, his bright white teeth seemingly dazzling in the dimly lit office and it made Hope feel uneasy. She shuffled her feet beneath her chair and continued to stare blankly at him.

From her very basic interrogation training upon joining the 806th MAETS, she knew everything was a tactic, a ploy to get her to talk. The best thing she could do, for everyone's sake, was to stay silent. There was nothing useful she could tell them anyway, she was a nurse after all and surely they would find the British pilots far more interesting than she was.

"I see you are not much of a talker, Lieutenant," the officer mused, sitting down opposite her, his hands clasped in front of him. "I am Lieutenant Haussmann."

Haussman's eyes bore into her but Hope continued to leave her eyes on the desk in front of her, not giving him the satisfaction that he could somehow get under her skin, despite the fact that his presence made her flesh crawl. Just the way each breath he took seemed to grate of her and each exhale caused his nostrils to whistle. She probably wouldn't have noticed if the room hadn't been so quiet, but there wasn't even the sounds of birds, of vehicles rumbling by, or even people talking. In this office Hope felt as though she was far away from the rest of the camp.

"Shall we begin then? I'm sure you want this over as quickly as possible," he began to shuffle the papers around on his desk until he found the folder he wanted, thumbing through the pages.

"Ah yes, here is your file. Hope Armstrong, that is not an American surname, it has Scottish origin, yes?" Haussmann raised an eyebrow expectantly at her.

"Lieutenant Hope Frances Armstrong, serial number N-770062." Hope bit her tongue, resisting the urge to spit the words at Hausssman.

Haussmann merely sighed, "Alright then. Why don't you tell me of your friend, Ruth Morgan?" Hope's stern exterior faltered slightly, the thought of them holding Ruth prisoner somewhere in some dank, dark cell like her own made Hope shudder. She only hoped that they found a Kraut doctor to assess Ruth's injured arm, the makeshift sling she had made after the jump was doing very little now to support the injured limb. She hoped Frank had been seen to as well, although she feared he would probably resist any kind of help from a Kraut.

"I believe she is an avid baseball fan. The Boston Braves. Are you a baseball fan, Lieutenant Armstrong?"

How did he know so much? How could he possibly know so much about them?

She knew Ruth wouldn't have uttered a word to him, even if she was scared out of her mind, and Frank would have rather died than told the Germans anything.

"Or what about Frank Martin? He is a baseball fan too? You Yanks and your baseball," Haussmann laughed. It was the kind of laugh that haunted Hope, it was particularly menacing but it chilled her to the core. She swallowed hard, watching as Haussman's lips turned upwards into a smile.

"He did not want to go quietly, your Frank Martin. I'm afraid, put up a fight. The guards sorted him though," Haussmann spoke plainly, flipping through Hope's folder. He stopped on a particular page, chewing his lip thoughtful as though he was going to ask a tough question. Hope felt as though she was in some sort of job interview and the real questions were about to start.

"What about Gale Cleven?" His words hung in the air, frozen in the moment as everything around her seemed to stop. Her Gale. Her beloved Gale who she may never see again.

Haussmann knew he'd struck a nerve with Gale, watching as Hope's face contorted at the thought of him. He picked up a loose photo from the file, turning it towards Hope. It was the photograph taken by the photographer from the night of Dye's party. It was Gale, dancing with her. They hadn't realised the photo was being taken at the time and Gale had been leaning down to kiss her, their lips inches apart when the camera captured the shot.

"Is he the one who gave you this?" Haussmann pulled out Hope's engagement ring that they had confiscated from her on arrival.

"Give that back!" She snapped, lurching from her chair and tried to grab the ring but Haussmann raised his hand in warning.

"He is your fiance , yes? He signs this letter 'Your Gale'. How sweet is it not?" Haussmann's lips formed a malicious smile, his words venomous as he spoke of Gale. "Do not worry, I have no use for your ring. Although I fear you will be missing your wedding very soon."

He tossed it carelessly back at Hope and she quickly slid it onto her finger. "No, I want to know about this Gale Cleven. He is a pilot, with the 100th Bomb Group at Thorpe Abbotts, yes?"

Hope's face must have had confusion written all over it because he picked up Gale's letter, turning the envelope to Hope, "I do love return addresses, don't you?"

Hope continued to stare blankly at him as she had done before. She couldn't let him get under her skin, couldn't let herself give anything away. Her mind seemed to turn over and over and her internal soliloquy of thoughts continued. It felt as though she was speaking out loud and maybe she, maybe that's how he knew so much.

Haussmann continued to press, asking about Gale, about Frank and Ruth, about Thorpe Abbotts and what base they had come from. Hope remained firm, resisting the urge to punch the officer and make a run for it. Her finger dug title into the leather chair, digging the fabric up beneath her short nails.

"I see," Haussmann finally gave up, he wasn't getting anywhere and he knew it. "Well, you have been...somewhat helpful I suppose. Thank you Lieutenant Armstrong, you will go back to your cell now."

The two officers from earlier appeared in the doorway, eyeing Hope with the same matching smiles that Haussmann wore. Those same smiles that would haunt Hope during the long hours spent in solitary confinement with nothing but her thoughts for company.

They yanked her from the chair, ignoring the way she dug her heels in and fought against their advances and hauled her out of the door.

"I look forward to our next meeting, Hope," Haussmann called after her as she was dragged away, her blood boiling at his words.

"I hope I never see you again," she mumbled under her breath, cursing the ground Haussmann walked on.

Upon returning to her cell, the large metal door slammed shut behind her and she was once again left alone in the dimly lit room. She sighed, falling down the stone floor once more, avoiding the rudimentary cot in the corner of the room.

Hope's back remained against the wall, glaring at the riveted, metal door, her eyes training on the small amount of light that came through the crack at the bottom.

The darkness seemed to close around her, making the small glimmer of light shine brighter. The air was cold, clammy against her skin and claustrophobic at the same time. Hope curled up on her side, her eyes remaining on the light, the small glimmer of hope that there was a way out of here.

..............................................................................……….

Hope groaned, rolling over on the cold, hard floor, her hand sluggishly feeling for the cup of water the guard had left on the tray that had been delivered with her daily bowl of soup.

Her throat was sore, raw from the hours she'd spent crying in the corner of her cell, clutching her knees as she rocked herself. The small amount of water did little to soothe it, but she drank it anyway, ignoring the potato soup that sat stagnant in the metal bowl.

She'd eaten it at first, glad of the sustenance but as the days crawled by the food became less appetising, and she began to doubt the RAF pilots from the mess hall.

"You shouldn't be at Dulag Luft too long."

Hope had lost count of how long she'd been stuck here. After her first interrogation, she'd been filled with a fighting spirit. With the return of her engagement ring, there was a return of hope that maybe she would see Gale again after all. Haussman had other ideas and after he called her back into the interrogation room again, asking her the same question, she began to wonder if they'd ever be moved out of their cold, damp cells.

Each time she fought more, resisting the questions, the guards, the regime, to the point that she'd ended up with a black eye and her abdomen felt like she'd been run over by a Dodge ambulance.

Haussman stopped his interrogation after the fifth day and Hope had been left in her own company, other than the guards bringing food and the latrine trip. She wasn't sure what had drawn Haussman to her, or whether he was interrogating all the prisoners like that, but she was glad when she didn't have to see his unsettling grin that only filled Hope with dread.

"You intrigue me, Miss Armstrong. I do not know why but you are different from other American women I have met."

Hope but back the urge to spit back a sarcastic comment but she managed. She didn't want to give him anything he could use against her, or her friends.

"But you will not talk," he sighed, clearly exasperated as he stood from his chair, moving around to Hope's side of the desk. "If you would just talk to me, Miss Armstrong I'm sure we could come to some kind of agreement."

His hand trailed up Hope's arm, causing her to flinch. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck as he leant forward, whispering in her ear. "You can talk to me, Miss Armstrong. I am your friend."

Hope leapt from the chair, sending it flying backwards and crashing into a filing cabinet.

"I won't tell you anything!" She screamed, throwing herself at Haussman as her fist nearly missed his thin cheek. The guards came rushing in, hearing the commotion and coming to Haussman's aid.

She was thrown to the floor, the but of a rifle slammed into her abdomen. She fell to the floor, wheezing as the air slipped from her lungs. Two arms, wrapped under hers, dragging her from the room. She fought against them, scraping her short nails against their clothed arms, doing very little damage.

She was thrown back into her cell, her heart pounding. She wasn't entirely sure what came over her. How could she be so stupid as to fight back? It was then that she noticed the blood trickling down from her left eyebrow and she noticed the blurred vision in her left eye. Feeling along her cheek bone, she winced at the sudden discomfort. Despite her discomfort she hoped that would be the last time she saw Haussman.

Although being alone with her thoughts wasn't a better option. Sometimes the memories of happier times soothed Hope and she could cling to those memories. Hugh often filled her thoughts, his bright smiling face filling the dark corners of her cell, promising that everything would be okay. Other memories were with Frank and Ruth, their visits to the local pub by the airfield, evenings spent chatting with Ruth, and Frank acting like an older brother.

She wondered if they were even still alive, trapped just like she was. Would she ever see them again?

And then there was Gale...

Memories of Gale should have brought more comfort than most, they had been the happiest days of her life, and yet they always ended with Hope crying herself to exhaustion. Her heart ached in her chest, as though the memories were slowly killing her from the inside.

She stretched out across the floor, her right leg knocking against the rudimentary bed against the back wall. She refused to lay on it, despite the floor causing her bones to stiffen and her muscles to ache. The straw mattress was lumpy, uncomfortable and alive with more insects than Hope cared to think about.

She ran her short nails over the scratches on the concrete floor. She'd ripped her nails off days before, scraping against the door to her cell, clawing away until her fingers bled. The guards had gotten used to her cries, choosing to ignore her until she gradually fell silent. She'd always considered herself a strong person who could withstand tough times but solitary confinement was gradually breaking her down, slowly wearing away at her soul. She felt hopeless. She was going to die here.

She rolled over, facing towards the door where a small crack of light filtered through, casting a light glow over her face. She hadn't seen sunlight in days and the only recognition of the changing hours was the noise around the camp. Hope began to wonder if it was the light from God as if he was calling to her and eventually, she would fade into his heavenly light.

That day didn't come.

A loud commotion in the hallway brought Hope back to her senses, as though she'd been in a daze for the past ten days and finally, she was awake again. The door swung back on its hinges with a loud groan, scraping against the rough floor.

Hope sprung to her feet, clutching her sore abdomen as a guard appeared in the doorway. She raised her hand, squinting at the sudden bright light streaming into the room. Hope had forgotten how dark her cell was.

"Out!"

She shuffled forward, following the guard sheepishly. She recognised him as the one who'd given her the black eye and she knew better than to test his patience again.

Her dark eyes drifted up to meet those of a few other prisoners all being led down the hall. She followed them out of the building, her heart racing as she tried to catch a glimpse of Frank or Ruth. There were several men dressed in Air Force blue RAF uniforms but she didn't recognise any of them.

Her legs felt heavy as they carried her across the muddy, overgrown courtyard. The ground reminded her of pictures she'd seen in a book of the trenches of The Great War. Her right foot slipped in a puddle and she felt her knee buckling beneath her. A strong pair of arms gripped her hips, steadying her against their chest.

She turned, pushing herself away until her eyes found the familiar, kind ones of the man she knew so well.

"Frank?" She whispered, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, feeling the rough stubble of his cheek grazing her hand. He was here. He was alive.

"Oh, Frank."

Frank didn't utter a word, instead, he pulled Hope flush against his chest, pressing her head beneath his chin as he held her.

Hope hadn't realised that she still had more tears to cry until they began to fall. Her shoulders were wracked with a sob as she clung onto Franks's A-2 jacket, her sore fingers clutching the fabric for dear life. She couldn't believe he was here, he was here.

Frank pushed her away, his hand immediately coming up to run over the bruise that ran beneath Hope's left eye.

"God, Hope! What happened? Who did this?" His face creased with anger, his eyebrows creasing into a hard line. "Did they...they didn't?" His lip quivered as he spoke and Hope knew what he was asking.

Hope shook her head, grasping Frank's hand in hers, "It's okay, they didn't," she gulped back another sob that threatened to spill. "I'm just glad you're alive."

Before Frank could speak again a guard appeared beside them, his hard face glaring at them before he ordered them to move forward.

Hope and Frank joined the line of prisoners that disappeared into a small dilapidated building that Hope hadn't noticed upon their arrival at the camp. The prisoners, all men, seemed to filter through the building, appearing on the other side clean-shaven and looking far less scruffy than before.

Hope froze in the line, realising the guards were expecting them to shower. The thought of having to strip down in front of so many men was more than Hope could bear.

"I can't go in there, Frank, it's the showers...I can't...you can, but..."

Frank cut her off, squeezing her hand tightly, "If you think I'm letting you out of my sight again, Hope, then I'm afraid you're mistaken."

He wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulder, guiding her out of the line and to the other side of the hut. The guards watched but didn't seem to care whether the prisoners were clean or not. Hope wished she could have showered, to wash away the dirt and sweat from the past ten days, but she couldn't.

They moved to join the larger group of prisoners surrounded by guards with dogs, all barking and causing the prisoners to shuffle tighter together. Hope realised then that they were waiting for the train and within a few minutes it chugged into view, blasting smoke into the already damp, grey sky. Its wheels screeched painfully as the locomotive came to a halt in front of the group.

The dogs seemed to sense the change in the situation and began to bark louder, tugging on the ends of their leather leads and jolting their handlers. The shrill shouts from the guards signalled the group to move forward as they were shoved towards the awaiting compartments.

"Move! Go!"

Hope's hand never left Frank's as she felt the crowd of bodies moving as one, all pushing forward with the same common purpose.

A young RAF pilot reached his hand down, helping to pull Hope up into the carriage. She sent him a grateful smile, pleased she didn't have to struggle to pull herself up despite the pain in her abdomen. She in turn helped pull Frank up, abundantly aware that his ribs were still incredibly painful despite him not complaining.

Hope winced as the strong smell of urine and vomit filled her nose once more. Her stomach churned and the nausea bolted in her throat. She wasn't sure whether that was due to her lack of food or the stench from within the carriage but she swallowed back the bile.

Frank led her to the back of the carriage, never once letting go of her hand as they wound their way through the other pows.

Hope glanced at the faces of a few they passed, so many young faces, both English and American alike. She had never seen so many faces so gaunt and lifeless that she felt the small amount of hope that had bubbled when she found Frank diminish.

"Hope, look!" Frank stopped, causing Hope to crash into his back. He raised a shaking hand towards a small figure bundled at the corner of the carriage. The mass of blonde hair was faded and no longer in neat curls but Hope would recognise her anywhere.

"Ruth!"

"Hope! Frank!" Ruth called out, her voice trembling as tears of relief welled in her eyes. She pushed herself up from the corner and hurried over to meet them halfway. When they reached her, Hope enveloped Ruth in a tight embrace, holding her close as if she was afraid to let go.

"Oh, Rue, l've been so worried. I'm sorry," Hope cried. "I'm so sorry. I was supposed to watch out for you, and-"

Pulling back from the hug, Ruth's brows furrowed as tears glistened in her eyes. "Stop. You've got nothing to apologise for. You didn't know they'd separate us."

Frank then pulled her into a tight embrace, careful of both her arm and his still-healing ribs. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just hungry and grimy. But I'm just glad to see you both."

Hope wiped a tear that leaked from her eye and nodded. "Me too."

When even more men climbed aboard, they were pushed back into Ruth's corner and sat down, watching the entrance warily as the rail car became increasingly crowded.

How many prisoners were they going to shove in there?

Before long, there was barely any room to move, and the trio were thankful they sat before the door was slammed shut, plunging them into darkness except for the light shining through the cracks in the wooden slats. Most of the men were forced to stand. The train moved forward with a shrill screech and rumbled on toward its destination. Ruth sat between Hope and Frank, her good hand held tightly by her best friend.

"Were you interrogated?" Frank asked, turning to the girls with a creased brow.

Ruth swallowed thickly, thinking back on her visit with Lieutenant Haussman. "He...uh, tried to get me to talk about John," she said quietly, staring out at the dozens of legs before her. "But I didn't. He did send me to the infirmary, though."

"Really?"

She nodded. "A nurse splinted my arm. It still hurts, but I'm managing. What about y'all?"

Hope didn't meet Ruth's eyes. She was didn't want to talk about her time in the cell, the things she'd thought, the things she'd done.

Frank noticed the uncomfortable look on Hope's face and spoke up. "Well, my ribs are still pretty banged up but Hope's expert bandaging skills are holding me together."

The three chuckled and Hope shot Frank a grateful smile. Even though they sat in pure filth, had no idea where they were being taken, and were struggling with the mental strain of their ordeal, they were together...And that gave them more hope than anything. 

...............................................................................………

September 24th, Thorpe Abbott AAF base 09:00

Gale sat, hunched over a steaming mug of coffee in the mess hall, allowing the aroma to waft under his nose. Hopefully it would be enough to keep him awake. His eyelids dropped heavily as he fought against the sleep that tried to envelope him. He hadn't slept properly for over a week, not since the news of the girls plane going down, but yesterday after the letter had arrived he'd spent the whole night sat up in 'Our Baby', rereading the last words that Hope had written. He'd barely seen John, who had also received a letter from Ruth, and Hugh had his own letter from Hope to deal with.

The safety of the cockpit had been inviting and he'd crawled in, shaky hands finding their way to his seat as he calloused. The sob wracking his body shook his whole body, his hands crushing around Hope's letter.

How could this have happened?

His calloused fingers ran over her words.

To my darling Gale,

His chest squeezed, compressing his lungs as he gasped for air, choking on the sob that wracked his body once more.

He could feel her next to him, as if her ghost was always nearby. He could smell the scented soap she used, hear her quiet inhales, feel her hand in his...

While John became closed off and angry after the girls went down, he tried to remain strong for his friend, and for Hugh, but when he was alone...

The picture of Hope was pinned to the plane's control panel. Her dark eyes seemed to shine despite the picture only being black and white. He smiled through the tears at her, enjoying the way she looked snuggled in his arms.

If only he could go back to that moment...or any of the moments with Hope really. The dance, the picnic by the river, his proposal, their first night together, Dye's party. Any of the precious moments spent with Hope would live in Gale's heart forever. That evening he had made a promise to himself, and Hope, to continue the fight.

"Major Cleven? Major Cleven, Sir?"

Gale jumped, his bright eyes shooting up to meet the sympathetic eyes of Helen.

"Major Cleven, I...I have something for you."

Gale sat up straighter, taking a long sip from his black coffee, trying to compose himself before the Red Cross girl could say anything else.

"Here."

She pulled a small piece of white fabric, folded neatly in a square, from her handbag. Gale took the fabric, his fingers running over the familiar white lace and he was instantly transported to that moment just weeks before when Hope had been making. He caught a sneak peak of the dress as she was bent over the sewing machine. The others had all finished up for the afternoon but she'd been so desperate to finish it.

He held her close as she finished the last few stitches, impatiently kissing along her neck and distracting her. She'd scolded him at the time, but he was glad for it now. He would remember every single kiss he could, for as long as he could.

"The rest of the dress I've folded up and given to Hugh to put in your footlocker, but I thought you'd like a piece of it with you."

Gale nodded slowly, thanking Helen who retreated slowly, leaving Gale with his own thoughts once more.

He tried to keep the tears at bay, pushing his chair back and hurrying out of the mess hall. The worried eyes of his fellow crew members following his retreating figure.

Harry sighed, reaching out for Hugh's shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze. Hugh gave him a small, grateful smile. Between Gale and John, he was just trying to keep morale up. It wasn't until he'd received a letter from his grieving parents that everything came crashing down. It had been Harry and Rosie who picked up the pieces, taking it in turns to comfort their friend as his whole world fell apart.

He wanted to be that friend to Gale, he just wasn't sure how.

...............................................................................……

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @beebeechaos @forsythiagalt @prettyinlimegreenboots @blueberry-ovaries

[the-silent-graveyard]

Even Death Can Be Tender

TW: Child death, suicide

Metal came in contact with fresh soil as a shovel pulled up dirt, tossing it to the side. The motion repeated over and over again until a near grave had been dug wide open, the deity Ghostwalker looming over the hole. Ghostwalker's been doing this for centuries now, digging up several new graves every single day in preparation for when a life would be claimed by cruel hands. And today was no different. The soft squeaking of the graveyard's gates caused the deity to cast his gaze that way. Oh, the squeeze his heart felt when he saw the form of a young, teenage demon. A young female demon, horns a pale blue color and her outfit consisting of a hoodie, knee-length pale blue skirt and some boots. She looked out of it and tired, a lost wanderer amongst the vast of life and death, resting within limbo until she can properly move on. Ghostwalker stuck his shovel into the dirt and silent approached the young demon, semi-transparent wings folding in on themselves as he approached. He never kept his wings out; he knew they made him seem intimidating to the dead. The female demon seemed to coware a little once she noticed Ghostwalker. Her back hunched, knees knocking together while looking up at him anxiously. Ghostwalker could sense her fear, stopping a decent way away to give her some space. Silent moments passed before the young demon finally spoke, her voice hushed and shaky. "Where... W-Where am I...?" Ghostwalker hummed and adjusted his glasses. "You're in my graveyard, young lady." The young demon paused at that, her hand slowly reaching up to her throat as the realization hit her. She did it, she actually did it. "So.... I'm-?" "Yes, you're dead, my dear." Ghostwalker was never one to beat around the bush even if the truth was harsh, watching the confused and scared expression of the female demon shift to one of somber acceptance. A book spawned within the deity's hand as he outstretched it, starting to flip through the pages until he landed on the page of the young demon in front of him. His heart squeezed once more as his x eyes scanned the page. "Found alone", "hanging from the ceiling fan", "suicide". Ghostwalker had to give himself a moment after closing the book. He's seen countless deaths, so much gore and viscera, but sometimes the mention of suicide gave him pause. "They don't care that I'm gone, do they? They never seemed to care..." Ghostwalker glanced at the female demon before de-spawning the book and moving closer to her. He reached down, gently grabbing her hands within his own. The female demon blinked, her pearly white eyes suddenly starting to glow a soft orange color as Ghostwalker's wings spread out to their full length. "Hush, my child. Close your eyes and witness what's come after your death." It played out like a slideshow; police arriving and finding her body, gathering of evidence, a scene of the female demon's mother broken and sobbing her eyes out, the female demon's father trying his best to console her. Image after image, the girl's eyes began to water. They cared? They really cared? Her pearly eyes stopped glowing, the pictures fading and once again being greeted by Ghostwalker. "They.... They cared?" "They always have, my dear. They always have." The female demon looked down, slowly nodding as Ghostwalker carefully pulled her into an embrace, feeling her hug him back. "The world's a beautiful place, my dear. And I'm sorry your torrent emotions led you down this dark path. You did not deserve to be cursed with such thoughts, with such ideals that death was your only salvation. But here, you can rest peacefully. You can spend your days knowing you were loved, and that even in death, you will always be loved." The girl nodded slowly and rested her head on Ghostwalker's chest, closing her eyes as she slowly started to fade out of existence. Ghostwalker gently placed his hand on the back of her head, wings slowly folding back as her spirit vanished into the nothingness.

[foggyfanfic]

Fixations

Summary: Juan is an awkward kid, and he's good at things that the village doesn't find very useful. Mirabel is an awkward kid, and everybody overlooks her skill as an artist just because she didn't get a magic gift. People seem to find Juan annoying (the phrase "know it all" has been tossed around a few times). People love Mirabel (the word "sweetie" has been tossed around a lot). Juan is pretty sure if he collects enough data he can figure out how to be more like Mirabel.

2. Juan

“Gracias for coming,” Mirabel said, handing his mother something made out of paper and string on their way out the door.

“Oh it was our pleasure,” his Má said, passing the paper something off to Juan so she could clasp Mirabel’s hands, “it was a wonderful party my dear, and I absolutely love your dress.”

It was a butterfly, the paper thing, it was a butterfly with little pieces of yarn strung through it to create the patterns on its wings.

“Oh! Do you?! Gracias, I-I embroidered it myself,” Mirabel said, her smile getting just a bit wider.

“Really?” His sister jumped in, moving around him so she could inspect Mirabel’s dress more closely, “You did this yourself? It’s gorgeous.”

“When she gives fake compliments she calls things fantastic,” Juan said, “she only calls things gorgeous if she actually likes them.”

This was maybe a misstep, because Mirabel’s face did a sorta twitch thing and his Má and sister gave him this sidelong look, but then Mirabel smiled at his sister and it was even wider than it had been before he spoke. Usually if his sister gave him that look but people started smiling more, it meant that what he said was weird, but not hurtful. That was acceptable to him, so he brushed the incident off.

He watched his sister’s face as she gushed over Mirabel’s embroidery, he watched Mirabel’s face as her embroidery was gushed over. He counted how many times Mirabel looked away from his sister’s smile, her cheeks red. Eventually he noticed it happened whenever his sister complimented her skills. It was an expression of bashfulness.

When they finally left Casita behind his mother gushed over how adorable and humble Mirabel was, she unknowingly confirmed Juan’s opinion that Mirabel had felt bashful when addressed with glowing praise. 

“That girl is such a sweetie,” his Má said, “maybe that’s her gift, being just the absolute best.”

She did not ask for the butterfly back.

Juan kept it.

He studied it.

He thought about Mirabel’s smile every night for three weeks while he stared at the butterfly.

When he noticed the paper was fraying on one end from his constant handling he got a picture frame for it and stared at it some more. 

The next time Mirabel passed by the bean stall while Juan was working, he watched her carefully. Mirabel was the Madrigal who didn’t get a gift, and nobody knew why, people had their theories, but nothing solid. They did not look at her with the same shine of admiration they looked at the other Madrigals with, but they did smile when they saw her. They greeted her warmly, drew her into conversations, eagerly told her about their days and seemed cheered when she expressed approval or empathy. People liked Mirabel. 

Why?

People did not like Juan. Not really. Especially not people his own age. Nobody wanted to listen to his stories, nobody thought his math jokes were funny (even when he explained the math first instead of after), nobody eagerly waved him down so that he could comment on their day.

And again, why?

He measured the butterfly one night, it was three inches tall and three and a half inches wide at its widest point.

On a different day, Adelaide was over and he asked her about Mirabel.

“Do you like Mirabel?” he asked.

“Sí, most people do.”

“Why?”

“Why do I like her? Or why do most people like her?”

“Why do you like her?”

“She is kind to me,” Adelaide said, “even when she doesn’t know how to be.”

Juan had asked her what she meant but she had shrugged and told him she didn’t know how else to put it. When his sister joined them he asked her the same question.

“Do you like Mirabel?”

“Of course, she’s a sweetie!”

“What does that mean? What makes a person a sweetie?”

“She listens when people talk, and always has something nice to say, and is good with kids, and stuff like that.”

“That is not specific enough, define ‘stuff like that’,” Juan said, and Adelaide nodded.

“Oh you know, stuff that shows she cares about people.”

“Hm,” Juan made a thoughtful noise, while Adelaide had silently cocked her head. His sister had rolled her eyes and left, telling them she loved them in an exasperated voice.

For the next couple weeks, Juan followed Mirabel with a pencil and some paper whenever he had free time while she was in town. He found that in conversations, roughly forty percent of what she said were questions about the other person, fifteen to eighteen percent of what she said was to express some form of empathy, roughly three percent of what she said were compliments, ten percent was her talking about a third party’s accomplishments (usually this third party was a member of her family or a close friend), and only twenty nine percent of what she said was about herself or her interests. He also found that nobody noticed him unless he actively drew attention to himself, making it really easy to stand just within earshot of Mirabel’s conversations taking notes.

The next time he and Mirabel were at the same party he approached her and asked her about the butterfly she put on the shoulder of most of her clothes. She briefly explained how she’d made it then tried to turn the conversation around to be about him. He parried her attempt.

“Why that color?”

“What?”

“That color?” He worried he may have chosen a strange question, but couldn’t think of a way that it might be hurtful, “Is it your favorite?”

“Oh, uh, no, no I just happened to have some spare green yarn. Why? Do you like green?”

“Green’s fine. Why’d you have green yarn? Was it leftover from another project?”

“Um yeah, I was just uh trying out a new knitting stitch,” she said, eyes flicking from his face to the rest of the room. He looked around but didn’t see anything else of note.

“Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“The knitting stitch?”

“N-not really,” Mirabel cleared her throat, “so! Uh do you uh knit?”

“No. Why didn’t you like it? What was wrong with it?”

“It was just a little finicky,” she said.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh uh, it’s not like a huge problem,” Mirabel said, then cleared her throat again.

“That’s the second time you’ve cleared your throat,” he informed her, “are you thirsty?”

“You know something, I am! I am very thirsty so I think I’m just going to uh go. Get a drink. Adios.”

And then she walked away before he could ask her what her preferred beverage was. He frowned at her back. Later he sat down at his desk and recounted his conversation with her. He came to the conclusion he hadn’t gotten the question to reaction ratio correct. He wrote out a few potential scripts for the same conversation then had his sister grade them on how natural they sounded.

“There is nothing natural about a practiced script,” she said, “you get that, right?”

“Sí, of course, but if I practice this script I will be better prepared to improvise in future conversations.”

“I love you Juan,” she sighed, “but I don’t think you’re fully grasping how to be a human being.”

“I don’t think I am either,” he agreed, “that’s why I’m doing this.”

She had sighed again, then nodded, and graded his scripts. She even helped him practice them until he had figured out how to ask questions without sounding like “you’re planning to plug all this information into one of your equations”.

A month after that party, Casita fell. He got another chance to talk to Mirabel while helping to rebuild her house.

“What color paint do you think we should use?” he asked, indicating the freshly erected walls.

“Well, that’s sort of something my whole family has to agree on,” she’d hedged, examining the walls and not looking at him.

“But if you got your first choice? What would it be?”

She had cocked her head and examined the walls, even stepping back a few feet and angling her face up so she could see the entirety of what they had built so far. He studied her as she studied the house. Her eyes ticked this way and that, her lips pursed then pressed themselves together, her brows jumped over passing thoughts. 

“Peach, or a soft yellow,” she finally said, “to catch the sun.”

“Seems reasonable. Do you like peach? Or yellow? Or do you just want to catch the sun?”

“Eh, I like them but they’re not my favorite colors,” she shrugged, “but it’s not just my house, you know, I want something that’ll make everybody feel warm and welcome.”

Juan hadn’t been able to muster up a response before her attention was drawn away. It took him three days, actually, to untangle what he thought about her words.

“Mirabel is a sweetie,” he told Adelaide, while he spread out the blanket for astronomy club.

“What does that mean?”

“It means she genuinely cares about everybody and goes out of her way to show it.”

“Oh,” Adelaide said, she looked up from the telescope she was setting up, “how does one show they care about everybody?”

Juan took in a deep breath, thinking it over, then told her, “I don’t have enough data to give you a succinct answer, I only have the evidence that has led me to this conclusion.”

“Hm, let me know if you figure it out,” Adelaide said, returning her attention to the telescope.

When things had settled a little bit, Juan once again followed Mirabel around town when he could. He was fascinated to note that Mirabel expressed her opinions two percent more than the last time he had studied her interactions with others, he also noted she spoke about her own experiences upwards of ten percent more. Furthermore, she volunteered to help more often, or was quicker to offer advice, than she had been before.

When he couldn’t figure out what the data meant, he took it to his sister.

“It means she’s more confident ya dingus,” she said, “now quit being a creep.”

“A creep?”

“Sí, following people around and taking notes about what they do is creepy.”

“Oh,” Juan said, then, “good to know.”

He later informed Adelaide that following Mirabel around so he could take notes on her behavior was creepy.

“How are we supposed to learn to talk to people then?”

“I don’t know, pretty sure we’re just supposed to know,” he said, “like everybody else does.”

She had sighed, then later pulled Josephine into the conversation, “How do you know how to talk to people?”

“I don’t know, I just think about what would be a nice thing to hear from somebody else, then say it,” Josephine said.

If Juan hadn’t been informed that it was creepy, he would have jotted that down. The next time he saw Mirabel at a party he told her she spoke to people well. She gave him a surprised look and thanked him, she had looked genuinely pleased, but before Juan could make absolutely sure his compliment hadn't weirded her out, she got called away by her sisters.

Eventually, he would propose to Mirabel, and she would accept. She would immediately want to tell everybody but he would stop her. 

Juan took her by the hand and led her to a bench that looked out on the park they were at. He sat next to her and after a few false starts, said exactly what he had practiced in the mirror.

“Actually, um, there’s probably something I should show you,” he said, reaching into the bag he had brought on their date, he had known he wouldn’t feel right letting her accept his proposal if he wasn’t honest with her, “here. These uh, these are my notes from when we were teenagers. My n-notes on you.”

Mirabel slowly accepted the small stack of papers with wide eyes, then started flipping through them.

Juan cringed as she did. He had grown a lot since he was that confused kid with a notepad, certainly enough that he now understood not just that what he did was creepy, but why it was so. A part of him wished he could bury this, completely forget the weird kid he had been, but Mirabel deserved his honesty.

“Remember how I said I was fascinated by your ability to be both clever and charming? Well uh I tried to figure it out by… following you. Stalking you, technically.”

Mirabel ducked her head, her hair shielding her eyes from his view and a hand pressing to her mouth. After a few tense seconds her shoulders started shaking.

“Ay, I’m so sorry, I know, it’s-. I’m sorry. I’ll just leave you alone,” he said, beginning to stand. Her free hand shot out and caught his forearm before he got far.

He watched her, at first nervously, then suspiciously.

“Are… you laughing?”

“N-no,” she lied, the word shaking and wobbling like a newborn donkey getting to its feet for the first time.

“You are! You’re laughing at me.”

“Maybe,” she said, a few giggles breaking loose.

“Well that’s just-! I was just trying to be open and honest with you and this is what I get, you’re laughing at me,” he huffed, pretending to be more offended than he actually was. It paid off and soon Mirabel was keeling over, into his side, giggling helplessly while he wrapped an arm around her. He continued to huff and grumble into her hair, holding her close while she laughed joyfully.

When she had settled, he told her, “I am sorry, by the way, for invading your privacy like this.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Mirabel waved it off, wrapping one of her arms around him so they were snuggled closely on the bench, “we all do dumb stuff when we’re young.”

“Now hold on, this may have been morally iffy, but I wouldn’t call it dumb,” he said, taking the papers back with his free hand so he could gesture with them, “this here is how I learned how to talk to you. And there is nothing I’ve ever done or will ever do that is smarter than getting your attention.”

“Oh really?”

“Sí. Because clearly I am absolutely hopeless at the whole people thing,” he shook his head, “marrying the expert is my only chance.”

“The expert? The expert on what?”

He waved the papers around in a vague circle, trying to come up with the right words, eventually he said, “On being a sweetie.”

Mirabel laughed at him some more, but she also wrapped her arms around his middle so she could squeeze him close, so that was ok.

A/N: It's Juan again, hi Juan. I see Mirabel as being the sort of person who would have all sorts of labels in today's world, but would fly under the radar in a society that doesn't really talk about things like neurodivergency and bisexuality. So I want Juan to be somebody who would be considered relatively plain or cliche in today's world but absolutely doesn't fly under the radar if you don't have the context for his special interest in math or overly analytical behavior. Juan loves to overthink things and he doesn't really get why other people don't (but he at least accepts other people have different interests than him by the time he's twenty). Mirabel, who is pretty analytically minded herself, sees his overthinking as adorable and relatable, not creepy.

[bijouxcarys]

Little Wayward Girl **TEASER**

Let me know your initial thoughts! I'm hoping to get this out soon, but thought I'd give you a little taste :)

Ally was having the absolute time of her life backstage; two roadies had already offered her a drink, which she obviously accepted, and she'd already gelled with multiple people.

I, however, felt uneasy about this whole bet.

How desperate to prove my friend wrong was I to insist that Robert fucking Plant would remember a night with a random girl from four whole years ago?! I spent a majority of the first half of the night mentally slapping myself and trying to figure out a way to get myself out of this situation.

But it proved to be too late as those four well-known rockstars entered the room to an abundance of cheers and applause for yet another electrifying performance.

First came Bonzo. I always remembered him as this big teddy bear, and he maintained that disposition. His hand was quickly occupied by a bottle of San Miguel. Some things never change.

Then came Jonesy. He was nothing but gentle from what I remembered of my brief time with the band. If I understood correctly, it seemed that he steered away somewhat from the sordid escapades derived from post-show adrenaline.

Jimmy had grown his hair out a little more, something I immediately noticed throughout the night. His eyes were laser-focused on the two girls waiting by the door for him, one of which were instantly taken under his wing. She was clearly his for the night. Probably the other one, too, now that I think about it...

I swallowed hard and glanced over at Ally, who was both in awe and anticipation. I can imagine she tackled with two mentalities. The first one being that she was seeing her favourite band up close, and the second itching to be right regarding Robert and I.

Larger than life, he strode in last, blouse open, yet tied across the bare expanse of his stomach. The jeans... God, those jeans. From where I had cowered in the corner, I had a prime view of the full picture. The pure perfection of one Robert Plant.

Heart hammering against my chest, I wished for the moment to pass quickly, knowing that come sundown the next day, my dear brother would be in bed with Ally.

I made no attempt to make myself seen. If he saw me, congratulations to him, but I wasn't going to intentionally put myself in the crossfires of embarrassment. Not that easily.

Ally was far too smug beside me, her mouth angled upwards in a smirk. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, resorting to biting at my nails to relieve the growing anxiety.

"The moment we've been waiting for..." Ally started dramatically through a sigh. "...You shall be proven wrong, and I shall be between the sheets with H--"

I nudged her with some force, cutting off her provocation. She's so right, though...

My breath completely stilled in my throat when the enigmatic God of a vocalist scanned the room casually. And just like that, his eyes met mine.

@firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76 @m-faithfull @chromations ummm idk who else to tag. Let me know if you want to be added into my tag list. Perhaps tag someone who might enjoy this? Idk here you go, I’ll shut up now 🥲