#since ao3 is down I'm doing my part lol

[quillfulwriter]

Jackbeth in Paris 🥐

Words: 623 | Rating T | Tags: Dogs, Romantic Fluff

⚠️ Spoilers for BioShock series

The Tears shredded through so much of her life. Elizabeth lived in a tower with a one-way window directly into her bedroom, surrounded by lies, stifled by a machine to keep her from knowing freedom.

Until one day she did.

Aromas of warm bread and other pastries were never far from their home, living near a bakery owned by a sweet older man and his daughter. They outgrew their pied-à-terre and gladly moved into this cozy home a year ago. Ever since, she woke up to that fragrance and Maddie’s whines to go for a walk through L’Écusson. Their nightmares came by less often all the time. When they did, Elizabeth and Jack had each other to lull them back to sleep.

Once they got Maddie, their gentle giant brightened Jack’s days even more. It was contagious. Elizabeth couldn’t help grinning at Jack whenever he got swept up in the antics of their Great Pyrenees.

“Don’t go without me,” Jack mumbled to Elizabeth while she got up, Maddie’s happy barks mixing with her laughter. “I wanna walk with you.”

“We’ll wait for you, darling. As long as Maddie lets us.”

Swishing her tail, Maddie hung her tongue out and barked twice.

“Not a good sign, is it, little Maddie?”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Elizabeth petted her white, fluffy face while Jack scrambled up. He hopped on one foot to pull on his pants one-handed and reached for his brush with the other. The classic French crop he got fit his smooth, straight hair very well. More time in the sun had scattered freckles all over his skin. Elizabeth didn’t have all the time in the world to sit around and admire. She had to get her shoes on before he caught up, at least. Not to mention that he’d gotten her a cute sunhat for her birthday that she was eager to wear with him on the walk.

She did have some time, though. Elizabeth laid back on the bed in her lilac wrap dress to enjoy the sight. Her ponytail curled over her shoulder, playing off the satin ribbon that matched her outfit. She smirked when Jack caught her eye and got a little flushed. All their days, they were made up of these little moments that once felt so far away. Impossible. Once upon a time.

“Come here,” she murmured, and he stopped to lean down with his pants zipped but unbuttoned. She giggled into their kiss and knew that was good enough for now.

Montpellier wasn’t Paris. But it was their home. They learned French together back in the pied-à-terre, laughing and telling each other ‘je te manque’ even more once they realized it was supposed to be ‘tu me manques’.

At least in this universe, they could be happy.

Maddie gave a thin whine from behind them by the door. She had a sense for the shifts in their moods, which tipped Jack off too. He climbed half-dressed on the bed with her.

“Lizzie,” he whispered against her neck with a kiss. “Where did you go? Bring me with you.”

“There’s a world somewhere out there,” she started, leaning into his embrace. Jack was steady and warm. Safe. His breath brushed over her hair, soothing and familiar. “Where we never had this. Maybe we never even met.”

Quiet stretched on between them. Some muffled words reached them from the street, and Maddie leapt onto the bed to curl up beside them. An afternoon walk would do just as well. Jack pulled her closer for another kiss, that one to her head as she snaked her arms around his waist. His heartbeat came across so clearly with Elizabeth resting against his chest.

“We were meant to live in this one.”

[laligraves]

chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus. 

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne. 

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say? 

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies. 

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.  

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out. 

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair. 

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool. 

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.” 

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically. 

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip. 

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy. 

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous. 

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so. 

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper. 

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it. 

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you! 

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass. 

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly. 

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos. 

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation. 

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. 

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise. 

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.  

“What–” 

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?” 

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face. 

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep. 

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused. 

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.  

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.” 

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”  

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat. 

“Joel–” 

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.” 

“No, I didn’t. I–” 

“I knock you up?” 

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words. 

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

“No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams. 

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”   

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground. 

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–” 

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.” 

“We can’t–” 

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans. 

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines. 

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button. 

 “Joel, please,” you beg. 

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back. 

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps. 

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. 

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on. 

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s. 

“Joel, my sister is inside–” 

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock. 

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful. 

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.  

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs. 

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!” 

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded. 

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”  

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp. 

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples. 

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.” 

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger. 

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands. 

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating. 

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth. 

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby. 

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.  

“Jesus–,” Joel groans. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!” 

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight. 

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck. 

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps. 

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.   

“C’mon–fuck.” 

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you. 

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you. 

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body. 

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down. 

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.” 

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see. 

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking. 

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”  

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit. 

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss. 

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body. 

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close. 

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy. 

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–” 

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again. 

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you. 

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum. 

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move. 

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks. 

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point. 

“Full… and sore,” you whisper. 

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

You roll your eyes and push him off of you. 

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?” 

[slut4thebroken]

Nymphomania

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader

Summary | You been trying for months to get Dr. Crane to give in. After a bold attempt, he finally breaks.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, age gap, doctor/patient relationship?, mentions of murder, reader is so horny and we’re here for it, degradation, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, rough oral sex, slight dubcon? but only because he’s “reluctant”, filthy nasty disgusting oral sex😭

Words | 2.6 k

Notes | He’s about 38 in this fyi. Also I already have an idea for a second part but it’s not even started so don’t expect it any time soon lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Dr. Crane has been your psychiatrist for several months now. Ever since your first session, you’ve been completely smitten and you were never shy about showing it. At first he was uncomfortable with your forwardness and flirty behavior, but he quickly learned to just ignore it… and most of the time he’s successful. But every once in a while you’ll say something particularly bold and he’ll reprimand you with a blush. 

Today was no different. You were brought to the usual room where your sessions take place and you waited eagerly for him to arrive. When the door finally opened and he walked in, you perked up, a giddy smile making its way on your face. 

“How are you today?” He asked as he set down his things, then sat across from you. 

“Better now that you’re here.” You put your elbow on the table and rested your chin on your hand, staring up at him through your lashes. “How are you?”

“Busy. Shall we get started?” The dismissal was not lost on you… but you’ve never been one to cooperate. 

“You sound stressed, doctor. Maybe I can help you relax?” You purred, slowly extending your leg to brush your foot over his shin, sliding it up. He pushed your foot back down, then moved his chair back a little as he cleared his throat.

“Behave.” He warned, making your lips curl up into a smirk.

“For you? Always.” He scoffed at that, but he can’t blame you for not behaving. Not when it’s not even your fault. “It’s not my fault I act like this.” You said defensively.

“No?”  

“I wouldn’t be so needy if you’d just help me out every once in a while.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of taking care of that yourself.” 

“I don’t like doing it myself, it’s not the same. Need you, doctor.” Your gaze shifted to his lips before settling on his hands, examining the veins leading up into his arms, covered by his suit. You wished the table wasn’t here so you could see all of him though. 

“Need your cock.” You suddenly looked at his eyes again and the only indication you got that he was affected by your words was the slight bob of his throat as he swallowed. “Please, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, leaning forward a little, wishing your top was lower to help you out. 

“If you need to be fucked so bad, you shouldn’t have killed four people and gotten yourself stuck in here.” He said, sounding almost bored. 

“I didn’t kill people, I killed men.” You said, now much more annoyed, but quickly brought your tone back to something sweeter. “And I guess I just thought at least one hot guy in here would be willing to fuck me. I didn’t plan on having my options completely limited to you.” 

“How are they limited?” 

“Because I don’t want anyone else! I just want you. And I can tell you feel the same, you’re just too obsessed with your job to act on it.” You frowned. He took in a deep breath through his nose and looked away from you as he thought. 

“Come here.” He suddenly said, leaning forward while beckoning you to do the same. Once you were leaned over the table slightly, you let your eyes fall to his lips as you waited for his next move. “My job isn't the issue. It’s the fact that you’re a criminally insane little girl.” He said lowly, making you press your thighs together as you squirmed. 

“I'm 20.” You defended weakly. 

“Exactly. I was already a legal adult when you were born.” 

“So? That just makes it hotter.” You said quietly, then bit your lip, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He didn’t respond and you tried not to shrink under his gaze. After another moment you sighed and leaned back, his eyes following every movement carefully. When you pushed your chair back, he stiffened. 

“What are you doing?” You slid down the chair to the floor, then crawled under the table. He started moving his chair back so you grabbed the legs to keep it in place. Because of his attempt to get away from you, you now had enough room to get out from under the table, but the space between it and the chair was small enough that your shoulders pressed against his spread legs. 

“Please? I need your cock, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, placing your hands on his thighs and snaking them up. “I’ve been thinking about it every day for months. Please let me have a taste.” You did your best to hide your smirk as you stared up at him through your lashes. When you suddenly leaned forward and started mouthing at his cock through his clothing, he roughly grabbed your hair, making you whine and work even harder. 

“Insatiable little slut.” He spat, wrenching your head back uncomfortably so that you were looking up at him again. Since you couldn’t use your mouth, you placed a hand on his bulge, making his grip on your hair tighten. You couldn’t help the open-mouthed smile that crept up on your face at the rough treatment. That seemed to only make him angrier though. 

“Hands behind your back.” He ordered. You smirked and glanced down at your hand on his bulge, debating if you wanted to be a brat or not. When his grip got impossibly tighter, you released him and placed your hands behind yourself. You had a feeling that he would end up giving you what you want. 

“You go a few months without it and turn into a cock hungry whore,” You moaned and squeezed your thighs together, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Like a fucking bitch in heat.” He spat. 

“Please, Dr. Crane.” You said through a moan. “Please, I need it.” Your gaze shifted between his face and his crotch hungrily. 

“Stop talking.” He hissed. 

“If you want me to shut up, you know what to do.” You smirked at him and he clenched his jaw, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. He seemed to be debating what to do— torn between not wanting to give you what you want and finally shutting you up. 

“Take it out.” He ordered. You don’t think your hands have ever moved faster. They immediately shot out and started working on his belt, then the button, and finally the zipper. When his cock was finally free, you let out a low moan and tried to lean forward, but he stopped you with the hand in your hair. “Hands behind your back.” You whined but obeyed and he pulled you closer, using his free hand to fist his cock. You could smell him now and you knew that he could feel your panting breaths with how close you were. 

“Please.” You mewled, shuffling closer. 

“Move your hands and we’re done. Understand?” He warned. You didn’t know if he meant done right now, or done for good and you’ll be assigned to someone else, but both options sounded terrible. 

“Yes, doctor.” You stared up at him through your lashes with wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading him to give you what you want. 

He relented and pulled your head down as your mouth fell open, eagerly anticipating what you’ve been craving since you first arrived here. When you finally wrapped your lips around the tip, you moaned loudly at the taste and let your eyes flutter shut. You flicked your tongue over it, lapping up what little precum there was, then tried to swallow him down deeper. He stopped you with the hand in your hair and you let out a long, needy whine. 

“Don’t be a brat.” You blushed at the tone he used to scold you, feeling like a child. You obeyed with a pout and mouthed at the tip of his cock, clasping your hands together so they wouldn’t subconsciously move from your back. 

He started pushing you down, then back up, agonizingly slow. When you looked up at him again, he cursed under his breath and started moving you a little faster. You hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock, trying hard to impress him and earn his praise. But all you got was a soft sigh. 

You whined, wanting to pull off so you could beg for more. He just shushed you and kept up the slow pace of shallow thrusts. 

“Please.” You tried to say around him, the word coming out garbled and almost incoherent. 

“What, this isn’t enough for you?” He suddenly pulled you off and you panted as you caught your breath. 

“Fuck my throat.” You gasped out, cheeks heating up. “Please.” You added so it didn’t seem like a demand. He pushed you back down, resuming the original pace. 

“I’m surprised it took murder for them to put you in here. I would’ve thought it’d be nymphomania.” You moaned at the subtle degradation and squeezed your thighs together, aching to reach a hand between your legs. He finally sped up, but kept his thrusts shallow, barely even brushing the back of your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder, trying to make it even better. “That’s it… Put that mouth to good use for once.” You didn’t let the insult deter you. 

He suddenly forced you all the way down and you choked, not expecting it. Holding your hair tight enough to make your head throb, he kept you there, his cock buried so deep that your nose was against his pelvis. With the lack of air and the pressure on your gag reflex, your eyes were watering and you looked up at him with a muffled whimper, making him curse under his breath. 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cry? I thought you wanted this?” He sneered, making you whine. He pulled you back until just the tip was in your mouth and let you take in a deep breath before shoving you back down. Rather than holding you there, he started bobbing your head up and down his cock, breaching your throat barrier each time. You couldn’t help the way you gagged and choked, but you didn’t dare try to pull away. 

“I thought a whore like yourself would’ve been good at this.” He said, disappointed. Your brows furrowed, not able to express your frown any other way. When he removed his hands, your expression turned into one of confusion. “Go ahead, nympho. Prove that you deserve to suck my cock.” You moaned around him, but quickly stepped up to the challenge. 

You were moving much slower than he was, choking each time you forced yourself all the way down, but determined not to give up. When you looked up at him, he almost seemed bored as he watched you. You pulled off and he raised his brows in a silent question. 

“Can I please use my hands?” You asked quietly, voice already hoarse. 

“No.” With a pout, you shuffled closer and leaned down, this time aiming for his balls. His spit soaked cock rested on your face, furthering your humiliation and arousal. You licked at them before sucking one into your mouth, making him let out a pleased sigh. You worked it over in your mouth for a few seconds before moving to the other one to do the same. 

You licked up along the underside of his cock with a small smirk— he was practically pulsing because of how hard he was. When you reached the tip, you licked up the precum with a low moan, then took him back in your mouth, immediately going all the way down. 

He let you control the pace for a few more thrusts before grabbing your hair again and speeding up. When he let out a low groan, you quickly looked up to see his face, finding him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes half lidded and he stared down at you. He forced you all the way down, then held you there, and you whimpered around him, trying to control your gag reflex. 

“Lick my balls.” You furrowed your brows, still looking up at him, and he all but rolled his eyes. “Fucking lick them.” He spat, jerking your head down even though your lips were already at the base. You stuck your tongue out and tried to obey, making him groan. 

“There you go…” He placed both hands on the sides of your head for a better grip, then started roughly pulling you up and down. You choked and sputtered, but his grip was unmoving. “Fuck— Keep this up and I might just let this happen again.” He said through a breath, making your stomach flutter at the thought. 

He continued using your mouth practically as a fleshlight, ignoring your gagging and muffled sounds, focusing solely on his orgasm. After what felt like minutes but was probably just seconds, you felt your body start to try and pull away from the brutal attack on your throat. Even though your mind didn’t want you to, your body was panicking. His moans grew louder and you begged your body to endure just a little longer, needing him to come down your throat. 

“Stop fucking fighting it, bitch. You wanted this, so take it.” He growled, moving you faster and pushing you down harder. Your eyes burned with tears and it wasn’t long before they started falling, making him even more frenzied and desperate. His hips were bucking into you now as he forced your head up and down his cock, barely pulling you back more than halfway. 

After only a few more thrusts, he forced you all the way down with a low groan, using both hands to keep you there with your nose buried in his pelvis. His hips would occasionally buck into you as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned at the feeling of his come hitting your throat, but wished you could taste him too. Once his cock stopped twitching and his sounds died down, he finally loosened his grip enough to let you pull back and you coughed almost violently as he panted. 

“Satisfied?” He asked through a breath, looking down at you. 

“For now.” You smirked, but batted your eyes at him innocently. He released your hair and you frowned, but didn’t protest any further. 

“Clean it.” He ordered and you eagerly dove back in to lick at his softening cock. You were more just enjoying tasting him rather than cleaning up all of your spit… which he seemed to notice. “I said, clean it.” You looked up at him, but when you were met with a warning glare, you just huffed and did as he said, licking his cock and balls to clean him as much as possible. “Put it back now.” Despite the fact that you wanted nothing more than to do the opposite, you tucked his softening cock back in his pants and fastened them before buckling his belt. 

“Good.” Your heart practically stopped at the sudden praise. “Sit back down.” You frowned, but obeyed, waiting for the next command. “Trust that if you touch yourself before our next session, I will know, and I will have someone else take over as your psychiatrist. Do you understand?” Your frown deepened as a needy whine left you and he raised his brows in response, challenging you, making you huff. 

“Yes..” You muttered, looking at the table as you slouched in your chair, sulking. The next few days are going to be absolute torture. 

Taglist (join here)

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[vaaaaaiolet]

It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you. 

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple. 

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm. 

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?” 

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid. 

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift. 

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six? 

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman. 

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms. 

“Hold it plea- Leon!”  

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut. 

“Thanks,” you gasp. 

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t. 

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!” 

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t. 

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds. 

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds. 

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity. 

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now. 

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside. 

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head. 

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting. 

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests. 

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.” 

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.” 

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe. 

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body. 

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.  

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears. 

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder. 

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything? 

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[eternalmoonlight18]

Please Please Please (Don't Prove 'Em Right) Chapter 6

Trafaglar Law x afab Female!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of doing the nasty. MDNI!

Summary:

You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?

As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!

Updates every Monday!

Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491

Chapter 6: Chicken Feet

Chapter summary: You and Law leave the crew behind to journey to Punk Hazard. You meet Monet, but seeing Law and Monet together makes you uneasy. Chaos ensues when your jealousy reaches to new heights each time you catch them together.

A/N: HELLO! Thank you so much for your patience friends! Writer's block is gone and it's time to get rolling! This story is canon-compliant, but it's not going to follow the actual story 100%. This isn't proofread so yeah sorry lol

Also CW/TW: slight mentions of the nasty if you squint, use your imagination folks.

I also created a taglist. Let me know if you want to be a part of it!

wc: 4k

You were instantly hit with regret when you and Law stepped foot at Punk Hazard. It was a month since you and the captain dropped off the crew at Zou to assist him in his mission to stop Doflamingo, but you desperately wanted to turn around and return for them. But it was too late, and Law seemed amused with the sight of you shivering in the vast cold land of the half of Punk Hazard. 

"Wow, it's not that cold here," Law said sarcastically as he walked towards a large door by a mountainside. While keeping his head forward, you saw him look at you with a smirk on his lips. Annoyed by your captain's sarcastic remark, you stooped to the ground to grab a handful of snow and chucked it at the back of Law's black coat. The man chuckled, clearly unbothered by your tantrum.

"Shut up! If you told me that we would travel to the fucking Arctic, I would've dressed better!" you comically spat at him. 

"I told you (Y/n)-ya, you should've worn that boiler suit." the man tutted back at you.

There was no arguing that. You fought tooth and nail against your captain on wearing anything else but those damned boiler suits, and now you're paying the price for it. So you opted for a cute black fur coat that went down to your knees and black leggings, but it was not enough to keep you warm in the insane cold environment of Punk Hazard 

"I'd rather die than wear those ugly boiler suits! We're not with the crew anyway!" you argued back.

You and Law now stood in front of a giant steel door. With his slender finger, Law knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before the door scrapped open, revealing a pale white man with spiked black hair. He stood very tall, but he didn't have any legs as it was replaced with gas. His yellow eyes bore into you and Law before his lips turned into a sinister smile.

"Well well well! What do we have here? Shuorororo!" the man creepily giggled. "A warlord at my doorstep? I'm honoured!" Then he took a look at you who was behind Law, and his eery smile widened even more. "And you brought along a sweet treat!"

"Caesar Clown. I came here for some business with you." Law said with a calm demeanour. Although he spoke professionally, there was a slight tone of aggressiveness. "I've heard about your production in SMILE fruits and SAD and I'm greatly intrigued. So, I'm offering that we can be business partners, to help you with production and distribution."

"And why should I engage in a partnership with you?" Caesar questioned.

The tattooed doctor hummed before he gave his answer. "You can use my Warlord status as protection."

The pale man smirked, "I already work for a Warlord. I won't disclose his name, but the JOKER already compensates me well."

"What about extra protection from another Warlord?" you piped up behind your captain.

The two men looked at you. Law stared at you with amusement while Caesar held a bewildered expression.

"That doesn't seem to be a bad idea. Good thinking (Y/n)-ya." your captain said with praise. He then turned his head back at the gaslike man. "The JOKER may be a good employer, but he will backstab you Caesar-ya. But with me, I can be that backup plan just in case things go wrong with your little business, hm?"

"Little?! For your information, my work is greatly sought after! I am the second-best scientist in the world and my work and weaponry directly supply an Emperor of the Seas!" Caesar scoffed.

You stepped up and took your place beside Law. "More of a reason to partner with my captain! If all goes to shit with the production of SAD, who do you think is first to blame?" you piqued up.

That seemed to get the mad scientist thinking. "Well well. You're not just a pretty face after all. Shurorororo!" 

Even though you cringed at the compliment, you couldn't help but swell with pride, seeing that Law gave you a tiny smile of appreciation your way. 

"The two of you come inside! I'm warming up to this idea of being business partners with another Warlord..."Caesar started to ramble as he ushered the two of you inside the facility.

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

You really wanted to go back to the Polar Tang now.

The facility wasn't bad at all. Everything was provided: space, a place to rest, and food. But you felt that something suspicious was going on and you couldn't figure out what it was. Law refused to tell you why he wanted to stay on Punk Hazard, but you understood it was all to avoid compromising the mission. He even exchanged his heart with Monet, another person staying in Punk Hazard, so that no one could betray one another.

Speaking of Monet, you hated the woman. Something about here didn't sit right with you, but you couldn't figure out why.

As you walked the laboratory corridors, you spotted that a research room had its door slightly cracked open. Curiosity got to you, prompting you to peek inside. Standing at the door, you touched your chest and muttered 'Calm'. With the newfound Devil Fruit powers you gained a month ago, you could take away sound from yourself and your environment. And it proved very useful now that you were peeking in this room.

There, Monet was sitting on a chair, writing notes on a desk. To her left, was Law, sitting on a couch to her right and Caesar was standing in front of him. They were engaged in a conversation, and you couldn't help but listen in.

"So, you're Trafalgar Law. Also known as the Surgeon of Death. You hail from the North Blue. You ate the Op-Op Fruit." she spoke as she was writing away.

Law glanced at her as she continued to speak. "You also brought your subordinate, (Y/n). A formidable sniper and a cook at the Heart Pirates. She hails from the East Blue. You said she ate a Devil Fruit recently but no information about its type."

Monet turned from her chair to face the two men to her right. "There are former prisoners that are on this island who were affected by a poison gas. Can you heal them?" she asked. 

Your captain continued to stare at her. Meanwhile, Caesar continued the conversion. "I'll let you and your subordinate stay here, so long as you assist me and don't tell anyone else about this lab. Are we clear Trafalgar?" 

"So be it. Also, you are not to tell anyone that (Y/n)-ya and I are here. That includes Joker alright?" Law said firmly.

A light giggle passed Monet's lips. "Caesar, I say that it's fine that he stays here. Besides, he's cute," she said as she threw a wink in Law's direction, much to his dismay. 

An unpleasant shiver went down your spine as your chest started to tighten. 

Now you really didn't like her. That was strike one. 

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

 A week slowly went by as you and Law stayed at the Laboratory. You found out that there were children and giant children, who were staying at the lab because Caesar said he was finding a cure for them. Of course, you didn't believe him, and you took it upon yourself to find out that the kids were actually guinea pigs for Caesar and his messed up experiments. But with your given circumstance, you knew that Law had a plan to take down Caesar and the SAD factory, so it was a matter of being patient with him. So the most you could do right now was feed the kids and keep them safe. 

Tonight, you made the kids spaghetti and meatballs, and when you presented it to them in the Biscuit Room, which was where they were staying, they all cheered joyfully.

A small smile graced your lips as you watched the kids eat the dinner they made you.

"This is amazing (Y/n)!" a giant girl named Mocha exclaimed. She wolfed down her portions and reached out her bowl to you. "Seconds please!"

"Good thing I made two buckets full of spaghetti, you kids got big appetites!" you giggled as you gave the girl another portion. 

"I'm so glad you came here! The food you make is awesome!" A blond boy named Sind cheered.

The rest of the kids shouted with joy as they continued to eat. As you were serving the kids their second portions, you didn't realize that Law walked into the room and made his way beside you.

"Oh, hello Mr. Snow Leopard!" A giant kid named Konbu called out.

You turned your head to see your captain with a sour face. He was not fond of the nickname the kids had given him.

"Hey, Captain Snow Leopard. Fancy you seeing here." you teased.

"Don't be copying these brats too (Y/n)-ya, address me properly." he scowled. 

A cackle left your lips while you prepared a plate for him. "Oh, don't be mean. You know these kids are going through a hard time by being here, and we're the only ones decent enough to take care of them."

"You're forgetting that Monet takes care of them as well," he answered back as he reached out to take the plate of spaghetti from your hands.

The smile on your face fell as Monet's name was mentioned. Your grip on the plate tightened as Law tried to take it.

"I see that you're getting comfortable with Monet, are you captain?" you said in a high-pitched voice, laced with discontent. A smile appeared on your face again, but it was clear that you were irritated.

"I would like a plate of spaghetti please." your captain said as he tried to pull the plate away from your iron grip. 

"Hm, I don't feel like giving it to you now." you singsonged. You pulled the plate away from his tattooed hand and gave it to Mocha instead.

"Are you mad at me?" Law gritted, clearly irritated by your actions.

"I don't know Cap, did you do something to piss me off?" you shot back at him.

The doctor grabbed the collar of your black jacket and brought your face close to his. "Don't start this again (Y/n)-ya. If you have an issue then spit it out." he lowly said. 

You raised your right hand which was holding a pair of tongs, and smacked Law's head with it. The tattooed captain let go of his grip on you and proceeded to clutch his head as he stumbled back in surprise.

"You're a smart man, figure it out yourself!" you shouted at him. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Law shouted back.

The two of you grabbed each other's collars and started to hurl more insults at each other.

The children watched the quarrel between you and Law with amusement. They started to whisper amongst themselves.

"They're funny!"

"They remind me of my mom and dad. Now I miss them..."

"Wow, I've never seen (Y/n) this mad before, it's funny!"

You and the tattooed captain were butting heads until Monet made her way into the Biscuit Room.

"Time for your candy!" she called out. The kids dropped their plates and proceeded to run toward the green haired woman. 

Pulling away from your captain's collar, you started to clean up the plates and utensils littered on the floor. "There's your woman," you muttered while cleaning up.

"Hm?" Law said, "What did you say?"

"Hi, Monet! Did you want some spaghetti? I made some for dinner!" you called out while ignoring Law.

Monet made her way to you. "Oh, I would love some!" Then she looked at Law and smiled. "If you haven't eaten yet, would you like to join me for dinner Trafalgar?" 

Law 'tched' in response. In the corner of Monet's eye, she saw your face deepen into a scowl. The sight of you being mad made her smile

That fucking woman was pushing you buttons and she was enjoying it. The handle of the pot started to crack as your hand gripped as tight as ever in anger. However, you managed to shove down your emotions and flashed a fake smile towards her and Law. The doctor raised his eye in skepticism as he saw you set down the pot and prepare two plates of spaghetti.

"Oh, how nice would that be? Here you go! You two enjoy dinner!" you said with fake cheerfulness. Shoving the plates into their hands, you quickly scrambled to set the plates and pots into the rolling cart and sped out of the Biscuit Room. 

"Thank you (Y/n)! Your cooking is always delicious!" Monet thanked you.

The tattooed captain just stared at your back as you were leaving the room. He knew something was up with you. Sighing in exhaustion, he brushed your behaviour aside as he started to think about the mission he was currently in. 

Unbeknownst to Monet and Law, you were unbelievably angry and veins started to pop on your forehead as you made your way back into the kitchen. Heavy stomps echoed throughout the hallway as you angrily pushed the food trolley. With your hands tightly gripping onto the trolley bar, you took a deep breath and sighed. 

That was strike two. One more strike and you were going to beat both of their asses to the snowy grounds of Punk Hazard. 

------------- 

You heard that Law agreed to give Caesar's henchmen limbs. It was one of the conditions that Caesar implemented for you and the captain to stay at Punk Hazard, aside from exchanging the literal hearts of Law and Monet to prevent backstabbing.

So when you were walking across the halls of the laboratory and heard the deathly screams of grown men echo throughout, you weren't surprised. 

"Looks like the captain is performing surgery today." you giggled as you skipped along the hallway. Deciding that you wanted to see the disembodiment in action, you quickly followed the sounds of agony. But as you were nearing the door, the screaming suddenly halted. As you slowed down your pace, you quietly made your way to the door and heard light shuffling and Monet's voice, You leaned up against the door with your right ear to listen.

"Alright, I'm ready Trafalgar," Monet said. "Are you sure this won't hurt?"

More shuffling was heard until Law spoke up. "First time? Don't worry, I'll stick it in slowly."

Your entire body froze as your mouth dropped in horror. "What the hell are they doing in there?!" you hissed to yourself. 

You heard a light grunt and a sharp inhale. More shuffling.

"Oh my, that's kind of big now that I look at it," Monet commented. "It feels weird too."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," You heard Law reply. "Now, hold still, I'm going to shove it in."

Oh that was it. That was strike three. And you know what they say. Three strikes and you’re out. And by out you meant that you were going to kill your captain and that green-haired witch.

Your mind short-circuited as you assumed that your captain and that damned woman were up to no good. With your mind and heartbeat going 100 miles per hour, you grabbed the handle and swung the door wide open, screaming; "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THERE?!"

And as soon as you laid your eyes upon Law and Monet, your heart stopped and your feet were stuck in place.

There they were, with Law's back facing you and the green-haired woman lying on her back on the couch. The doctor's left tattooed hand was holding onto her right leg which was up in the air. Your captain's face was turned to you with his face widening in horror, and Monet tilted her head to the left to look at you. 

What set you off was when Monet glanced at you, her long green hair was dishevelled.

Steam started to blow through your ears as you glared hole into Law and Monet. Your entire body started to shake uncontrollably as your chest heaved up and down aggressively.

Realizing that he was caught in a position that already caused a great misunderstanding, Law quickly let go of the leg he was holding onto and scrambled to make your way towards you. What you failed to see was that Monet's left leg was now replaced with a giant talon.

"(Y/n)-ya, you can't just barge into here while-" he started but you cut him off.

"CAPTAIN TRAFALGAR LAW! WHAT IN NEPTUNES GREAT BEARD ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT BITCH?!" you bellowed. 

Unable to think straight, you stomped past your captain headed towards the large bird talon on the desk in front of the couch. As you picked it up with your right hand, you whipped your head to glare at the insufferable woman lying on the couch.

"You've got some nerve seducing my captain like that!" you shrieked as you swung the limb towards Monet. She promptly dodged your attack and screamed, running away from the couch and onto the other side of the room.

"(Y/n)! It's not what you think! He just-" she started to explain before you swung at her again.

"I don't want to fucking hear it!" you screeched as you chased the poor limping woman around the room.

"Shambles!" Law grunted. And as soon as he said it, you swung the talon once more towards Monet, only to knock down a bookshelf onto the floor.

You whipped your head to face the captain once more. Law shuddered as he saw your eyes glimmer with hate. It was screaming bloody murder, and he was on the receiving end of it.

"YOU! Oh, you've got some nerve! You men disgust me!" you screeched as you stomped towards the doctor. With your left foot planted in front, your right arm swung up, reading to assault the man with the bird limb.

"(Y/n)-ya wait! Whatever you're thinking, we didn't do it!" he yelped as he jumped to the side to avoid your attack. However, he didn't know that you were quick enough to see through his actions and the back of the talon hit him on the side of his head, which successfully smacked him to the ground.

Your left hand reached out to the pistol that was hoisted on your hip. You drew it out and pointed it to the man on the floor, "Falling for a woman like that? How despicable! I-!" you started to lecture, but your voice drowned out as you realized that your outburst of anger took all the energy out of you.

"I-" you started to speak but your voice failed you. As your hand fell back to your side, you started to wonder why you acted like that. Even if they had something between them, it wasn't your place to care, unless you were...

"...Jealous? Are you jealous (Y/n)-ya?" Law called out as you returned to your senses. The discomfort that once reflected in his eyes was replaced with amusement as his mouth raised in a smirk.

Your eyes widened at the revelation as your heart started to pound. A bright red flush appeared on your cheeks.

"There's no way," you muttered. The limb that once was on your hand dropped to the ground as you stumbled back in shock. Glancing at Law, who now stood up with his arms crossed, you shot a nasty glare as the smirk on his face widened even more. 

"Why would I be jealous?! I was just protecting your dignity!" you sputtered. The captain made a stride towards you as he chuckled.

"What a stupid reason. You expect me to believe that?" he teased. 

He was now looming in front of you as you backed up to a wall. Your head was bowed down in embarrassment as you refused to look into his steel grey eyes. 

"I wasn't jealous..." you lowly muttered.

"Somehow that's not believable," Law answered back. He dipped his head to your eye level so that he could make eye contact with you, but you whipped your head to the side, still refusing to meet his eyes.

Amused by your sudden 180-degree change in mood, your captain stood straight up, placed his hand on the back of your head, and kissed your forehead.

The once freezing temperature of the laboratory now skyrocketed into a burning hot sensation as Law made an out-of-character advance toward you. Whipping your head up to face Law, your face was now burning hot with more embarrassment.

"Captain! What was that for?" you yelped in surprise.

Law simply chuckled. "Sometimes, I wonder what goes on on that interesting head of yours. One minute you're beating me with a bird limb and then the next I find out it's because you're jealous."

You shoved away the man in front of you and pouted. "I am NOT jealous! I just had to straighten you up and remind you that we're on a mission here!"

"Oh please, if anything, you were the one who forgot that we had a mission (Y/n)-ya." he retorted. 

"Whatever, now help me clean up this mess," you sneered as you proceeded to pick up the fallen books that you knocked down from your rampage. The tattooed captain chuckled and proceeded to assist you in a comfortable silence for a while before he spoke up again.

"(Y/n)-ya?" he said as he hoisted up the fallen bookshelf.

"Yeah what is it cap," you said with disinterest as you continued to collect the fallen items. 

"You know you'll always have me right?" he announced.

Your heart picked up slightly at the confession. Then A smile graced your lips as you turned your head to face Law. "Shut up and put that bookshelf up, Cap," you finally said as you tried to dismiss your feelings. 

The captain sighed as he shook his head. A rumble of laughter started to escape his chest, and you followed suit. Amidst the chaos that happened in one of the laboratory rooms, you and Law couldn't help but share one of the many moments you had with one another, even though the two of you were far away from home.

----------

Bonus Scene:

In the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates were nowhere to be seen. That was because all of them were inside the captain's quarters, staring at a small book at the captain's desk. The cover of the book read 'Journal'.

"So, should we open it?" Penguin asked, with his hand hovering over the notebook. 

"Yeah man, let's do it!" Shachi affirmed.

"Guys, what if the captain finds out?" Bepo chittered.

"You idiot, there's no way he'd find out if he's not here!" Ikkaku chided the Mink.

"Sorry..." Bepo muttered.

 Penguin picked up the book and slowly opened it. "Alright you guys, here we go..."

Everyone leaned in and peered over Penguin's shoulders as the notebook opened. As soon as the first page was opened, a bunch of folded envelopes fell out and scattered on the ground. The entire crew crouched down and picked them up.

"It's addressed to (Y/n)," Hakugan announced.

"This one too." Jean Bart said.

"This one as well!" Uni called out.

"Wait a minute, are these all love letters for (Y/n)? And he never gave them to her?" Shachi said bewilderedly.

"Guys, captain's journal is just filled with yearning for (Y/n)!" Penguin cackled as he skimmed through Law's journal.

The whole crew burst into laughter as they crowded around Penguin once more to read what the captain had to say about you.

----------

TAGLIST:

@hopelesslover06 @shakysif @eyes-ofhell @letmereadchristonabike @bi-narystars @valval08 @urbisexualfriend @emmaiscool22 @deathsmajestysworld @sp1ng @kitsunechan707 @orange-milky

[eyelessfaces]

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here” 

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 28 - No-holds-barred beatdown, exposure, used as bait

CONTINUATION TO DAY 13 go read that one if you haven’t (or if you need a refresher it’s been so long lol)

Hi I'm still kicking <3 only three left after this, I WILL be finishing these, NO MATTER WHAT RAAAAAH. my goal is to be done before the 15th but we'll see how that goes. I'm going to try 😓

The prompts used aren’t the best, but they were the only ones that even vaguely fit lol. The third one doesn’t even come into effect until the very end. Also this was only going to be one more part. but. they kept talking.

Warnings: violence, injury, a handful of previous warnings from day 13

Day 13

ao3 link

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

Sky and Warriors woke up at the same time.

Twilight stirred from his spot on the ground, having let his mind wander as he’d waited. His body still ached a bit, and it wasn't helped by his stint on the cold floor, but he sat up anyway as Warriors’ eyelids fluttered, and a squeaky moan came from Time’s back, Sky’s tail flicking. Twilight looked between the two, then went to Sky first, since strangely enough it seemed like he was waking up faster.

Legend sat next to Warriors, saying something to him as he woke, and Time watched the two with slightly narrowed eyes. He looked at Twilight as he walked up, flicking an ear as Warriors let out a disbelieving noise and Legend squawked angrily.

“Here,” Time said, carefully leaning over and sliding Sky off his back. “I’m going to go make sure Legend doesn’t bite him. And that the captain doesn’t stomp our veteran by accident. Or on purpose.”

Twilight nodded, and sat down next to Sky as his blue eyes flickered open.

“Easy Sky,” Twilight woofed as he moved a little, and Sky twitched his nose.

“Ow...” he groaned, and Twilight gave his ear a gentle lick. “...Oh, hey rancher... why’re you so big?” he asked blearily, squinting as he tried to sit up. His paws slipped out from under him though, and Sky stared at them in bewilderment, the expression honestly adorable on his furry face. He wiggled a few toes, and stared at the fur and claws, blinking in shock.

“Rancher?” Sky repeated in more of an alarmed voice. “What’s going on?”

“Short version? We all got turned into animals,” Twilight admitted, giving Sky a little push with his snout in order to help him sit up when he tried again. “We fell down here and all transformed somehow. You’re one of those cat things on your island, a... was it a remake?”

“A remlit,” Sky corrected, sounding a little calmer, but still disturbed. He studied his paws, and tilted his head back, trying to look at his ears and tail. “Huh. Just like Legend that one time. Those... women did this to us?”

“Yep, the creepy voice ones. Or something down here did, we’re not exactly sure. But it’s their fault somehow,” Twilight confirmed, and watched intently as Sky shakily stood up, paws trembling. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m— yeah. This is just... weird,” he admitted. “I... this was dark magic, wasn’t it?”

“We think so, yeah.”

Sky frowned and looked around the dark cave, large ears swiveling, and both he and Twilight jumped as they heard a distressed whinny. Twilight whirled around, and saw Warriors attempting to get to his hooves, his legs wobbling underneath him.

“Easy Captain, don’t move too quickly,” Time warned, and Warriors snorted, tossing his head.

“Don’t ‘easy’ me, I’m not staying like this a moment longer than I have to!” Warriors said, nearly falling over. “Horses are fine, I like horses, but I don’t want to be one!”

“Actually you’re a unicorn,” Legend said helpfully, and Warriors huffed angrily as Time moved to his side, helping to steady him.

“Right. I’m a horse with a big pointy stick on my head. Wonderful.”

“At least you can stab things,” Legend continued, nose twitching in amusement. “You didn’t have a weapon before, and now you do. Besides, I think the horn really compliments your flowing locks.”

“I could almost say the same,” Warriors snorted. “Flowing locks indeed. Finally the mystery of the pink hair is solved. I wouldn’t have guessed a bunny rabbit would be the cause but you—”

“Now see here—”

“All right, that’s enough,” Time said with a sharp look at the both of them. “Captain, are you feeling all right? We all saw how rough that transformation was.”

“I’m fine,” Warriors mumbled, pawing at the floor.

Twilight glanced back at Sky, who was sniffing at the scratches on his side with a wince on his face. He’d managed to stand by himself though, and so Twilight moved over to Warriors, the captain’s legs still wobbling.

“Relax Captain, we’re going to fix this,” Twilight reassured, and Warriors made another annoyed sound, his tail swishing.

“So long as we don’t need opposable thumbs,” he said. Twilight sighed.

“We’ll manage, Captain. I know this isn’t ideal, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re used to having four legs,” Warriors said in a sharp voice, and Twilight flattened his ears in annoyance.

“I’m stuck like this too, Captain. Just because I’m more used to four legs doesn’t mean I don’t want my regular ones back,” Twilight snapped, his worry and fear at the whole situation abruptly bursting out. “Now if you’re done arguing with Legend we still don’t know where half our group is, so if you’re able to walk without falling over let’s get going.”

Warriors blinked, obviously taken aback, and Twilight turned away from Time’s frown and stuck his nose up in the air to sniff for any more familiar scents.

The faintest hint of one that wasn’t rock or cave smell wafted by his nose, and Twilight turned in a slow circle, trying to pinpoint it. He caught a bigger whiff, and gestured with his head.

“I think I found someone else,” he said, and Time hummed in a growly way.

“Are you guys ready to move?” Legend asked, looking askance at both Sky and Warriors. Sky hesitated, his legs still wobbly, but when he walked around in a small circle he was able to keep his footing. Warriors gave a curt nod, his legs looking steadier, and he didn’t look over at Twilight.

Twilight felt a little sting of shame, but he swallowed it back. He could apologize later.

“This way,” he said, turning into the darkness, and the others followed along behind him, Warriors’ hooves clicking against the stone floor.

They kept the pace slow, in respect for both small and unsteady legs. Twilight felt impatience simmer under his fur, but he knew he couldn’t just run ahead. He was currently one of their few lines of defense, and who knew how many monsters might be around down here?

Sky and Legend walked together beside him, Sky asking questions about being an animal, Legend answering as well as he could. Warriors was obviously listening in as well, and Twilight even noticed Time’s ear swivel back when Legend started in on ways he dealt with fights.

Twilight... probably ought to be giving tips as well, he certainly had plenty of knowledge to draw on. But he was intent on following the scent, keeping a nose out for any others, watching for monsters, and also looking for a way out. Legend could handle the crash course in being an animal.

What a disaster.

Twilight sighed and kept sniffling, trying to identify exactly who’s scent it was he was following. He stepped past a couple large rocks that glowed faintly green, and as the scent grew steadily stronger, Twilight suddenly paused, his stomach sinking. Even with the strange overtone to it, he suddenly knew exactly who’s scent he was following.

He bolted, leaving the others behind, knowing the source of the scent was close. Twilight turned a corner, intently sniffing, and sure enough a few moments later his paw bumped into a small, grey-blue creature.

Twilight froze, and lowered himself to the floor, almost not believing what he was seeing.

“Oh boy... champion?” he asked, nuzzling gently at him. Wild don’t move, unconscious, and Twilight gave his head a small lick. “Hey, wake up for me?”

A chirrupy groan came from Wild’s still form, and his eyelids flickered, blues resting hazily on Twilight’s face.

“Mm... Twi?” he mumbled, ears twitching. “Where... ow... why does my whole body hurt?”

Twilight winced. “Well, it ah... might have to do with the fact that you’re a squirrel.”

Wild blinked slowly, his gaze still bleary. He flicked his ears again, twitched his tail once, then jerked to his feet with a completely flabbergasted expression.

“A WHAT?!” he yelped right as the others all rounded the corner and caught sight of him. Legend took one look at Wild’s bushy tail before his face cracked into a huge grin.

“Champion you’re— you’re a squirrel!” Legend spluttered, then burst into uproarious laughter, looking at Wild with pure glee on his face. “That’s the best thing I’ve seen all day!”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Wild screeched, his fluffy tail sticking straight up. He looked a solid mixture of offended and freaked out. “WHAT’S FUNNY ABOUT TURNING INTO A SQUIRREL?!”

“It’s hilarious, actually,” Legend cackled, wheezing as he fell backwards, nearly tripping Sky. “A squirrel! No wonder you’re such a hoarder!”

Legend burst into another peal of laughter, and Wild stumbled backwards, every bit of him tense. Twilight moved towards him, and Wild let out a panicked little chirp.

“Wild, it’s okay,” Sky said, and Wild twitched his nose as Twilight gently nuzzled his head. He could hear Wild’s tiny heart beating like a drum.

“Are you hurt at all?” Time asked, and Wild shook his head, his tail lowering a little.

“No, I’m fine. I just... no. Don’t like this.”

Wild swiped a paw over his face as his nose twitched again, and Twilight very firmly held back the urge to laugh. Now was not the time, even if Wild being a squirrel was admittedly... rather hilarious. At least on par with Legend being a rabbit.

Maybe Farore has a sense of humor.

“Hey, you’ve just gotta adjust,” Legend said as he gave himself a shake, finally getting ahold of himself. “Just think how it could be worse. You could be a bug or something.”

“But I’m a squirrel!” Wild chittered frantically, his tail whirling all over the place. “I’m tiny! I’m defenseless! I can’t even hold a weapon like this!”

“Wow. What a hardship,” Legend said in a deadpan. “Being a small mostly-defenseless woodland creature.”

Wild opened his mouth to retort, then slowly closed it again, staring at Legend like he hadn’t truly looked at him until now.

“Oh. Uh... you’re... a pink blupee thing?”

“A rabbit. We all got transformed, Wild, calm down. I’m sure we'll be able to fix it,” Twilight reassured, and Wild groaned, pulling his tail over his face.

“I hate this. No thank you. Nope.”

“Join the club,” Warriors sighed, and Twilight sat down beside the little ball that was currently Wild, giving him another lick. Wild uncurled a little, looking at Twilight with thinly-hidden panic in his eyes, and Twilight’s chest tightened. Wild rarely looked so rattled.

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” he asked quietly, and Wild nodded.

“Just sore,” he said quietly. “That transformation was awful. Is... everyone else okay?”

“We don’t know. We haven’t found everyone yet,” Twilight explained with a sigh. “No sign of Hyrule, Wind, or Four.”

“But I’m sure we’ll find them,” Sky said hopefully, his large ears spread wide. “If nothing else I’ll be able to hear them with these big old things.”

Time chuckled, and Wild’s tail flicked around, the champion obviously still distressed. But he took a deep breath and sat up, determination in his eyes. Sky watched Wild’s tail swish around as he studied everybody’s animal forms, Sky’s pupils going wide, and suddenly shot out a paw to bap at it.

Wild jumped, and Sky immediately drew back, spouting apologies.

“Sorry! Sorry It caught my attention and I was just going to watch it but then I... I don’t know why I did that,” he finished in bewilderment.

Time let out a huff from nearby. “Instincts. Never know when they’re going to kick in. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve eaten rocks without thinking.”

Twilight wasn’t the only one who gave him a strange look at that.

Unfortunately none of them got to press the question, since right as Twilight opened his mouth to ask, a loud rumbling sound came from somewhere in the cave, the ground shaking under their feet.

Warriors stumbled, and Sky and Wild both fell over, the cave shaking so violently Twilight wondered if it was about to fall on their heads. He quickly positioned himself over the smallest members of the group, but the shaking abruptly stilled, and the cave went deathly quiet.

Then Twilight growled as a familiar voice suddenly spoke.

“You have all faced the magic and come out unbroken. You have passed the first stage,” the croaking voice echoed through the cave. “The second stage still remains. Survive and we will collect the chosen downstream at the crystal waters.”

“Good luck! I can’t wait for you to finish,” the other voice said excitedly, and Twilight saw Warriors flinch.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Legend growled, and Twilight saw Sky’s claws slide out.

“Return us to our normal bodies!” Warriors shouted, the whinny echoing off the walls.

“I don’t think she can understand you,” Wild pointed out, then raised himself to his hind legs, showing off the sword-shaped patch of white on his belly. “Here— RETURN US TO OUR NORMAL BODIES YOU CULTY FREAKS!”

There was no reply.

“I doubt she liked being called a freak,” Time said dryly.

“Yeah, probably not. But still. Rude,” Legend sniffed. “Guess we’ll just survive phase two then.”

“We need to find the others,” Twilight spoke up, unable to keep the worry from his voice. “Now.“

“She said we all survived the magic though, doesn’t that mean they’re all okay?” Wild spoke up, and Sky’s tail flicked worriedly.

“She didn’t say anything about other dangers, though.”

As if summoned, a monster’s howl rang through the tunnels, and everyone stiffened, heads turning toward the sound.

“Wild, Legend, on Twilight’s back, Sky, you sit on Time, we’ll save the most time,” Warriors said quickly, and Legend helped Wild scramble up onto Twilight’s back, Sky carefully moving to sit on Time’s. “I’d... take one of you, but I don’t know how steady I can keep myself.”

“I’ve got them,” Twilight reassured, noticing the frustration on Warriors’ face. Warriors met his gaze, and Twilight lowered his head, ears flicking down. An apology for earlier.

Warriors looked at him a moment, then nodded back, apologizing as well.

Twilight breathed out, a little of the nauseating emotions rolling around in him easing a bit. He may be tired, cold, hungry, in pain and worried, but that was no excuse to take it out on Warriors.

They needed to work together to get out of this mess.

They all rushed off, Warriors having trouble going at a pace much faster than a walk, but pushing himself anyway. That had been a victorious sort of monster cry, and they didn’t have time to waste. Even if Warriors kept tripping on his hooves and barely catching himself.

“So,” Wild said after a minute, and Twilight flicked an ear to show he was listening. “How come you and the old man are wolves while the rest of us are... everything else?”

“I was wondering that too,” Legend spoke up. “...I still think it’s beyond unfair.”

“I don’t know why,” Twilight admitted. “Your form says something about your person, they reflect your spirit... or it does in my case. Even though the circumstances are weird, I’m guessing it’s the same for the rest of you. I guess mine and Time’s just happen to be similar.”

“And I’m a squirrel,” Wild grumbled, and Twilight sighed.

“Yeah. Squirrels aren’t so bad though. They’re hardy, smart, good at climbing, jumping... besides, we can’t all be unicorns,” Twilight pointed out as he hopped over a rock, and Wild and Legend both let out small huffs of laughter.

“I guess not. Still pretty strange there’s so much variety,” Wild hummed. “I would’ve guessed we’d all be wolves.”

He was quiet for several seconds, and Twilight turned his attention back to navigating through the dark cave.

“...Wait a second, if our animal forms reflect us, and Legend is a bunny—”

“Don’t you dare finish that thought.”

Wild chittered out a laugh.

His amusement faded when another snarl echoed through the caves though, and Twilight exchanged a glance with Time, trotting even faster. If anyone was hurt because they couldn’t get to them in time, Twilight didn’t know what he would do.

The green rocks increased in frequency around them, the darkness of cave a bit less intense. Twilight could hear water now, and regular grumbles and snorts that sounded like monsters. Time caught Warriors when he tripped again, and they all ran down the sloping passageway.

They turned a corner, and Twilight’s eyes went wide.

An underground stream flowed in front of them, wide, but fast, water a crystalline blue so bright it looked unnatural. More of those green rocks were scattered in and around the water, and though Twilight couldn’t see colors the best as a wolf, he could tell the mix of them was rather pretty.

But more important than the water or rocks was the group of moblins on the other side, one dragging a motionless deer behind it, another trying to bat away something running around by its feet.

“Hey!” Wild shouted, and leapt off of Twilight’s back, rushing over to the stream and attempting to hop across the rocks. His paws skidded on the slippery stone, but he managed to hang on and keep going. Twilight barked for Legend to hold on, and jumped into the water, quickly swimming across.

The water was achingly cold, but Twilight ignored it and Legend’s small squeak of dismay, paddling as fast as he could. The current wasn’t too fast for him, and Twilight leapt onto the shore right as a moblin kicked the small figure at its feet, making it squeal in pain.

Whoever it was went flying, and Twilight lunged for the moblin, teeth bared. Legend clung to his fur as he bowled the moblin over, and Twilight heard Time snarl as well, a different monster screeching in pain.

The disgusting tang of monster blood got in his mouth as he snapped at the moblin, but Twilight didn't let go until it let out a dying gurgle and went limp. He raised his head, watching Time struggle with his own moblin, Sky trying to help where he could, and also saw Warriors hurriedly trying to cross the water beside Wild.

Nobody had reached the moblin dragging the deer by the leg though, and Twilight whirled towards it, leaping at the beast with his fangs bared.

It saw him coming, and dodged his lunge to its neck, Twilight’s teeth closing around its arm instead. It snarled in anger as it dropped the deer, then raised a large club above its head, eyes glinting maliciously. Twilight knew he wouldn’t be able to move in time to avoid it, but then Legend leapt off his back, attaching himself to the moblin’s face and scratching and kicking at it furiously.

It screeched, and Twilight bit it on the wrist, making it drop its weapon. The moblin gave its head a violent shake and Legend went flying, but the opening was what Twilight needed to leap forward and finally bury his teeth in its neck.

He heard a splash behind him, fear ratcheting into his throat, but he couldn’t let go until the moblin fell still and it was stubbornly refusing to do so.

Come on, die already! Twilight thought with a snarl, abruptly twisting his head to the side.

A sickening crack rang out, and the moblin finally fell still, its tongue lolling. Twilight felt a lurch in his stomach at the more violent instinct he’d given into, but he swallowed it back and spat blood from his mouth.

He turned back to the water, and felt a quick flicker of relief as he saw Time standing over Legend's limp form, viciously attacking anything that came nearby. There were only three moblins left now, and Warriors was attempting to handle the other two, Wild goading them on and distracting them while Warriors attacked with his hooves and horn.

Which just left the question of where Sky and the other animal had gone.

Twilight whined anxiously, looking around the bloody shore for any sign of them. There was a lot going on, but he was sure that he would’ve noticed one or the both of them being hurt.

Twilight suddenly saw splashing, and he hurried over to the water, ears pricking as he saw a lithe shape struggling towards the shore, Sky’s large ears visible beside it. Twilight leaned way out, prepared to jump in if necessary, and when both heads dipped below the water, Twilight quickly splashed in and gently snatched them both by the scruff.

He dragged them to shore and set them down, then frantically sniffed the both of them, Sky's scratches reopened, the other animal's tail bleeding.

“Are you two okay?” Twilight barked urgently, and the lithe, creamy colored animal nodded shakily as he scooted closer to Sky.

“I’m good,” Wind’s voice chirped tiredly from it, turning his head so that Twilight got a good look at the swirl of blue on his head and back. “Or good enough. This... is so weird.”

“Yeah,” Twilight agreed, then turned his attention to Sky, the poor remlit panting with exhaustion in a soggy heap on the ground. “You good buddy?”

“Give... me... a sec...” Sky coughed, a shiver running through him.

Twilight nodded, and glanced back at the battle just in time to see a moblin charging for them, eyes crazed.

Wind squealed in alarm and Twilight leapt to intercept the monster, snapping at its neck. Somehow it managed to dodge the attack, and abruptly slammed its club into his side, making Twilight yelp in pain.

He was knocked to the ground, but despite the pain he got back up almost instantly. The moblin was running for Sky, and a feral snarl escaped Twilight as he leapt back at the moblin again. This time he managed to knock it off-balance, and Twilight and the moblin went sprawling to the ground, snarls and the snapping of teeth ringing through the cave as they struggled.

Twilight ignored the sharp ache ringing up his side and focused only on taking down the moblin that had been charging for Wind and Sky. It gave as good as it got, and Twilight was already scratched and kicked and sorely aching when the moblin suddenly raked its claws into his muzzle.

A sharp sting ripped across his face, and Twilight yelped in pain as he reeled back, tears welling in his eyes.

“Twilight!”

Something snapped in Twilight, and despite the sharp pain, he lunged back in again, snapping ferociously at the moblin’s neck. He clawed and tore and shook the monster under him, and it wasn’t until something pressed against his side and shouted his name that Twilight realized the moblin had gone still, and it was silent in the cave once more.

Twilight stumbled back, panting as blood dripped from his face and mouth, staring at the ripped-up moblin below him. It was barely recognizable, and bile rose in his throat, shame and disgust slamming into him. Something suddenly butted gently against his side, and Twilight wearily raised his head, seeing Time looking at him with alarm in his eye.

The older hero was gently supporting him, and Twilight wondered why before he suddenly realized his legs were trembling.

“I’m okay,” Twilight said finally, sitting down with a whine at the pain in his side and face. At Time’s incredulous look, Twilight huffed. “Seriously, I am. Nothing’s broken, just bruised, I can tell.”

“Bruised ribs are no joke,” Warriors said as he walked by, but he didn’t stop to bother Twilight about it further. He was making his way over to the deer, who was still lying ominously still on the ground. Legend at least had stirred nearby, but he looked a little dazed, a paw held close to his chest.

Fear lurched through him and Twilight struggled back to his feet, Time still supporting his side, and he walked slowly over to Legend and the deer.

Time didn’t further question his injuries, but Twilight could feel his gaze on him as they made a brief detour for Twilight to wash some of the blood from his mouth.

I get it old man, you’re worried.

Twilight swallowed, the taste of blood still in his mouth.

I am too.

They made it to where Warriors had gone, and Twilight sat down with a huff, the others all gathered around in a loose circle. Twilight looked around at them all, bloody, disturbed, weary and damp, and lowered his head down to rest on his paws.

Are we anywhere close to getting out of here?

Twilight breathed out slowly, and tilted his head to look at the deer, a light brown and with a few speckles of pale green scattered around on his back and face. Warriors knelt beside him, and gave the deer and Legend both as much of a look-over as he could.

Wind scampered past, his feet making little paps on the floor, and he sniffed at the deer, then looked fearfully at Warriors.

“Is Hyrule okay?” he asked, fur still a little damp.

“Yes, Hyrule is okay,” a voice groaned, and Twilight turned to see the deer raise its head, blinking dizzily. “Ow.”

"Traveler!" Legend and Wind said at the same time, both looking relieved.

“Careful,” Warriors warned, but Hyrule shifted around anyway, moving like he was going to stand up.

He immediately toppled over when he tried, his hooves going everywhere, and Wind let out a sympathetic little noise. Hyrule blinked, attempting to correct himself, and when he failed, stared up at the near zoo standing around him.

“Um. So why do I have four feet and feel like I got doused in dark magic?” Hyrule asked, sounding surprisingly unconcerned. “Also... why’s there a unicorn just standing there?”

“That’s me,” Warriors said grumpily, and Hyrule blinked.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Weird cult ladies, we were dumped in a cave, dark magic stuff,” Legend summarized from where he'd moved to sit beside Sky, and Hyrule nodded, accidentally hitting his antlers on a rock.

“Ow. Yeah... I remember now. I thought I heard Wind when we fell, and I got up to go find him, but then I felt all that dark magic and blacked out,” he reported with a scrunch if his nose. “And now I’m a... deer?"

“Looks like it,” Warriors said, and Twilight heard the grim smile in his voice. “Welcome to the hoof club.” Hyrule looked around, then blinked, staring at the eclectic pile of animals gathered near Sky. "...Is that rabbit wearing a vest?"

Warriors snorted out a laugh, and then attempted to give Hyrule a crash course in who was who, and also how to walk with hooves. While they stumbled around, Twilight took the opportunity to look around at everyone else, making sure they were all still accounted for. Time was beside him still, a few scratches on his leg, some blood staining his muzzle. Legend and Wild were huddled beside Sky, trying to warm him up while Legend nursed his injured paw, and Wind and Warriors were cheering Hyrule on as he tried to raise himself up on wobbly legs.

That meant the only one missing now was Four.

Twilight looked at the stream, remembering the croaky voice’s mention of water. The exit must be somewhere near here if they were going to be... collected, but they couldn’t leave without Four.

Where could he be?

“...okay, so I know Twilight and Time are the wolves,” Wind said, and Twilight looked back to see him moving to sit next to Sky as well. “Wild’s... a thing? Furry thing?”

“A squirrel,” Wild sighed. “And Warriors is the unicorn, Sky is the cat thing I forget the name of, Legend is the rabbit,” he said with a snicker, and Legend glared at him. “And you're a... I actually have no idea what you are.”

“He's an otter,” Legend said grumpily, attempting to tie his vest into a sling with one arm. “They swim around and eat clams.”

“What’s a clam?” Wind asked.

“Shellfish.”

“That’s not very nice of him,” Hyrule said as he wobbled over, and Wild and Wind joined in on his laughter while several of the others rolled their eyes.

“Enough goofing off, we still need to find Four,” Twilight spoke up, and everyone turned to look at him. "And any ideas on how we're going to deal with these witches or whatever they are?"

"We head downstream and see what happens I suppose," Time sighed. "Our smithy must have heard that message too, he’ll know where to go."

"He could be hurt though," Wind chirped worriedly, rubbing a paw over his whiskery cheek.

"And what if he was unconscious somewhere and we missed him?" Legend added.

"Twilight or the old man would've smelled him though, wouldn't they?" Warriors pointed out. "Twilight's been looking for scents this whole time, surely he would've gotten some sign of him."

"Wait, what if he got turned into a fish or something?" Wind suddenly gasped, looking at the water. "What if he's down there and—"

"Quiet!" Sky suddenly shouted in a croaky voice, his wide ears held out.

All of them went silent, and Sky swiveled his ears around, looking ruffled, but a little less like a drowned rat as he carefully sat up. Twilight pricked his ears too, and for a moment, all anyone heard was the noise of the stream rushing by, and blood and water dripping softly from wounds.

Then Twilight heard a pained cry so soft he could barely make it out.

"That was Four," Sky gasped, obviously able to make it out better than him. "He... wait."

He pricked his ears, and then his eyes went wide.

"I can hear those women, they have Four!"

Twilight jumped to his feet, biting back a whine of pain as his side sparked angrily. "Then we need to go help him, come on!"

“We can’t just rush in there without a plan,” Warriors whinnied, stomping a hoof. “Rancher you’re injured, Hyrule can barely walk, Sky practically drowned, we need a plan if we’re going to be able to—”

“Then I’m going by myself!” Twilight snarled, and whirled around and took off, ignoring the others’ shouts and cries to come back.

Twilight’s paws pounded against the stone as the others’ voices faded behind him, every step sending a jolt up along his injured side. Blood was drying on his face, sticky and uncomfortable, but Twilight only ran faster, listening for any more signs of Four.

He knew he would need the others’ help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take them on by himself, and Twilight especially knew he was being incredibly stupid by running off alone.

But he didn’t care.

Every moment could matter for Four.

[arecaceae175]

Gratitude Part 1: Wild

Summary: Eight times Sky receives a gratitude crystal from the chain plus one time he gives some away

WELCOME this is inspired by this post chain by @linkvcr and @somer-writes! I'm going to post each section on tumblr until they're all done, then I'll combine (and edit lol) them for AO3 :D

This one is based on and uses some dialogue directly from the woodcarver comic by @linkeduniverse

Part 2. ART!

Wind blew lazily through the trees, rustling the leaves pleasantly. One fell and floated down onto Sky’s lap. He brushed it away and it fell next to the pile of wood chips from his latest carving. He was essentially finished; even the decorations were done. He was chipping away at any imperfections he could find– and fixing any more he created– to keep his hands busy.

A bird chirped in the distance. Sky eagerly looked up and followed its path over the forest. It was so cool. Sky racked his brain for a word to describe how incredible the bird was, but couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent. He laughed softly to himself and turned his attention back to his carving. 

“What are you laughing at, birdbrain?” Legend asked. Sky smiled at the nickname. 

“True to my name, I was watching a bird. It was cool,” Sky said. 

“Of course you were,” Legend said, as his eyes roamed the skies to find the bird himself. Sky smirked. 

“Food’s ready!” Wild called. 

“Perfect timing!” Sky said. He blew a breath over the spoon to knock off the loose shavings, then wiped it down with a cloth. It was perfectly smooth.

Sky hopped to his feet and walked over to the group with the spoon hidden behind his back.

“Okay, so it’s a light meal today, since we had that amazing soup earlier. Rice and vegetables over here, and then there’s some meat if you want. Cucco in that bowl and deer in that bowl. But I put some vegetables with protein in, so you’ll be fine without those,” Wild explained, pointing to the bowls as he talked. “Oh, and no peppers.”

Sky felt a warm feeling in his chest. Wild put so much care into their meals and ensured they catered to everyone’s individual preferences. It wasn’t easy to make one meal that suited nine people from different backgrounds, but Wild made it work every time.

“Oh, I need a spoon for the rice. Um,” Wild turned to dig through his cooking supplies.

“How about this one?” Sky said. 

Wild turned around and his eyes widened in surprise as Sky held out the spoon. His mouth dropped open slightly as Sky pushed the spoon into his hands. 

“You made this?” Wild asked. 

“I did! For you,” Sky asked. “As a thank you for always making us such good food.”

“Wow!” Wild said. He held the spoon up to his face, closely inspecting the patterns. A spark of orange flickered to life above his head. It wasn’t quite a full crystal, but the sight made Sky smile warmly nonetheless.

“This is beautiful work,” Wild said. 

Sky beamed. “Thank you!” 

Wild’s face fell from its smile. Sky mirrored the expression and stepped closer. 

“What, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Sky asked. 

Wild frantically shook his head and his grip on the spoon tightened. “No, I love it! I’m just… what if I break it?”

“You probably will,” Sky said with a chuckle. Wild looked up at him with wide eyes full of worry.

“But that’s okay. It’s meant to be used. If you use it enough to wear it down, I’ll know I did a good job,” Sky said. 

“Are you sure?” Wild asked. 

“Promise,” Sky said. 

Above Wild’s head, the spark rapidly expanded into a full gratitude crystal. Sky watched it with awe as it floated over and into his chest, where its warmth spread throughout his body. Sky wiggled in happiness.

“Thank you, Sky. I love it,” Wild said. 

“You’re very welcome,” Sky said, his smile bright and wide. 

Next Part ->

EDIT 01/19/2024: THERE IS ART NOW!!!! This art by @linkvcr :DDDD

[gloomwitchwrites]

i’ve only recently found ur acc and i’ve fallen in love! ur def becoming one of my inspo’s in writing my own fics!:D

now, what about t141 with an alt s/o who’s always dying their hair or piercing themselves? maybe it’s the first time they find reader doing said shenanigans, what would their reactions be? 🤔 i think soap would have the best one lol, but i’d love to hear what your thoughts about it! <3

Well, hello! Welcome! I'm happy you're here! Now, I had multiple people requests this very thing. I am answering one of those asks and the others will simply fall under this one (since they are all very similar). I did go with some variety here since being "alt" can mean a lot different things. I do have one with hair dying, one about showing off their taxidermy/skull collection, a metal concert, and forcing (Gaz) to have a makeover. I had lots of fun. Enjoy!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings: established relationship, humor, fluff, swearing, hair dying, taxidermy, concerts, makeovers

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Jesus bloody Christ. What happened?” John stands in the doorway of the bathroom, his eyes wide as he surveys the scene. “Did you murder someone?”

You stand hunched over like a gremlin in the shower, holding the handheld showerhead. The dye in your hair is circling the drain, but that’s not the only place is stains. The shower is going to need a good scrub as is the bathroom sink.

“I’m changing my hair?”

John blinks. “You told me you were going to a salon.”

“This is cheaper.”

His mouth opens and then promptly closes. You see the gears turning. John is reigning in the panic.

“It’ll come out,” you insist.

“Everything is red,” murmurs John.

“Only temporarily,” you insist.

“Are you talking about your hair or our bathroom countertops?”

“Are you mad?”

“No,” he says firmly, hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to shut the door and pretend that our bathroom doesn’t look like a crime scene.”

“I love you!” you call out as he starts shutting the door.

“I love you, too,” he sighs heavily. The door is nearly shut before it suddenly opens again. “Do I need to grab bleach from the store?”

“That would be great.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Stop moving,” you mutter.

“You’re gonna poke me in the fucking eye, love.”

“It’s just eyeliner. Calm down.”

“You’ve poked me already.” Kyle points at his eye. The white is slightly red with irritation.

Kyle’s gaze narrows, but you only tut, grasping the bottom half of his face with your hand. Squeezing his cheeks a bit, you tilt his face from side-to-side, observing your work. About half of his face is done. You’ve even added face piercings to his lips and nose.

The clothes were the easy part. Kyle was more than willing to put on what you picked out for him. It’s completely different from his tracksuits and jeans. He looks like he walked right out of the punk scene.

“You promised I could do your makeup.” You put a little whine in it, pouting your lip.

Kyle lightly grasps your wrist and tugs, removing your hand from his face. “I did,” he agrees. “But all this? Really?”

You’ve set out nearly every product you have, nearly covering the entirety of the bathroom counter.

“We have to match,” you insist.

Kyle’s mouth twitches slightly but he settles. “Fine. But you better make me the best-looking bloke in the joint.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“This is June.” You present the racoon skull to Johnny.

His eyes widen slightly. “Hello, June,” he greets.

You wait for the eventual frown, for the brief flicker of disgust, but it doesn’t come. Johnny isn’t drawing back or judging you at all. His attention is rapt—focused.

You gently return the racoon skull back to the shelf and point to a collection of preserved butterflies. “These were a gift from a friend.”

“They’re beautiful,” murmurs Johnny. “Do they have names?” He leans in, observing the display of colorful wings.

“No, but they do!” You enthusiastically gesture toward the rest of your collection. There are skulls and bones from all sorts of animals, preserved beetles, tentacles in jars, and even petrified fish bones.

Men say they want quirky, but when they get quirky, they run. Johnny though is entirely fascinated.

“Can I touch this?” he asks with an excitement that surprises you, pointing toward a beaver skull.

“Yes. It’s delicate though. I’m always fixing the jaw.”

Johnny lightly lifts the skull and brings it close to his face, slowly rotating it.

No. Johnny isn’t disgusted. He isn’t shaming you for your special interest. If anything, he’s fascinated.

You’re keeping him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The shredding of the guitar reverberates in your chest. It stirs your blood, sending waves of adrenaline through your limbs until even your fingers and toes twitch with anticipation.

The breakdown is coming, and with it will come a sea of bodies. They’ll crash against each other like a massive wave before descending into chaos, nothing but flailing limbs and gnashing teeth.

Already, the energy is pulsing, becoming a frenzy that will eventually burst.

You’ve never been in the middle of the pit before. You usually stay off to the sides or well out of the way, not wanting to receive an injury.

But now you have protection. Now, you have a bodyguard.

Simon stands right behind as your support and your shadow. This isn’t his scene, not that he doesn’t enjoy a metal show, but he could care less about throwing himself around in a pit. When you expressed the desire to do so, Simon agreed, but only if he joined you.

Sure, it might scare some people off, or deter others from getting too close, but Simon is supportive anyway.

He’s just a bit vicious. A bit protective.

The shredding rises. It’s time.

A pause.

Then everything crashes.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[yayakoishii]

Hello, I’ve loved seeing all of your One Piece content recently! Could I request a Sanji and a fellow straw hat reader who recently got married? I saw something recently about how once Sanji gets married, there would come a moment where someone would call ‘Vinsmoke’ and both would turn their heads and it would just cause Sanji to get emotional because he finally shares a last name with someone who doesn’t see him as worthless. Someone who instead looks at him like he single-handedly placed every star in the sky. If you don’t end up writing this that’s alright, I at least wanted to share this little scenario.

Vinsmoke | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word Count: 600

Genre: Fluff, minor angst?

A/n: *laughs in still haven't read past Ch. 526* Hey there requester <3 Firstly, I'm happy to hear you enjoy my writing! Thank you so much for this absolutely lovely request. You actually requested it when they were closed but I found it too cute and wanted to write it– even though I haven't reached that part in the manga yet. But, I wrote based on the things I learnt from fanfics (and whatever I got spoiled about, lol) so this might be inaccurate? I would have loved to expand but I need to know the entire backstory properly before I could do that TT Still, I had a fun time writing this cute drabble! Hope you enjoy it ♡

also available on ao3!

Sanji woke up to the most beautiful sight in his entire life– you lying next to him, curled up against his chest from where he could see your hair spilling over the pillow and your relaxed face. This was the sight he was going to wake up every day to, from now on, and the thought of it made him feel like the most blessed man on Earth.

You shifted a little, burrowing closer into him, as if you two were already sticking to each other. He could feel your skin on his own, reminders of the night before but all he could feel at the moment was overwhelming love. He couldn't hold back when he saw your hand with a ring come up to lie above his heart. The choked off sound he let out woke you up, and you looked up at him with sleepy puffy eyes.

"Sanji…?" You mumbled, humming in contentment when he wrapped you up in his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, my love," he said quietly, gathering you into his arms, his own wedding band grazing your back as he did so. You shivered at the sudden cold touch but looked at him with dopey eyes full of so much love that he felt blinded. "Just thinking of how lucky I am."

The two of you eventually rolled out of the hotel bed and got ready to leave for your trip. You were on your honeymoon, a week long trip to a famous vacation island that had a lot of fun activities. Sanji had gotten ready first and gone down to the lobby to discuss something with the staff. You hurried up and joined him there after you had made sure that all the marks he left on you were hidden well under your clothes. You were not embarrassed by them – but you were also a private person who preferred to keep certain things to yourself. The love Sanji made to you was something no one else has to see or know. It was something just for you to experience.

You checked out at the reception since you had the room key and were about to make your way to Sanji when the hotel staff behind you suddenly called out, "Vinsmoke-san?"

"Yes?" You turned around automatically, feeling a little giddy. You had been preparing for this ever since Sanji proposed to you. To be called by his name, to be called his…

You didn't notice Sanji's reaction because of your own thoughts. The blonde had turned to answer the call only to be left dumbfounded when he realised the staff had called for you. You, who were now Vinsmoke (Y/n), had replied back with so much ease, like you had been answering to it your whole life.

And it was like someone had pulled his heart out of his chest and clenched it– it was both painful and pleasing to him that you were a Vinsmoke now. The first one to always be by his side, the first one to protect him even though he was clearly no longer the weak boy he once was. The first one to look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, the first one to love and accept him for who he was– you were now his first, real family. The family he had chosen and started. The family who loved him.

"Sanji?" Your concerned voice jolted him out of his thoughts and he blinked, feeling his eyes wet suddenly. His face was cradled gently in your soft hands as you looked up at him, silently asking him why he was about to cry. "What got you like this?"

Sanji swallowed the heavy lump he could feel in his throat, like his emotions had turned into a ball and were trying to come up his throat. He blinked away the last vestiges of his tears, instead wrapping you up in his arms again.

"You being mine now," he whispered, knocking his forehead gently against yours. His clear blue eyes looked straight into yours as he added, "In heart, mind, name and life."

°•❀•°

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor Part 2

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, follow up to Donor. English is not my first language. There's drinking, breakups, failed IUIs and more. Just an overall adult-themed content. But no smut...YET! (BWAHAHA) As usual, not beta'ed, and plot points are perhaps shaky and a bit far from reality, but hey! It's called fiction for a reason. LOL Excuse my deluluness, you're welcome to join.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You said, a tear escaped from the corner of your eye, slipping down your cheeks which you immediately wiped with the back of your hand.

Henry pulled you in on a side hug, letting out a slow sigh, closing his eyes as he planted a kiss on your temple.

Five negative pregnancy tests sit on your bathroom counter. 

Five more to add to the stash of tests that you somehow decided you wanted to keep in a box under the counter. Just in case…of what? You're not even sure yourself.

This was your third try over the past year. Three rounds of IUI and a box full to the brim of negative pregnancy tests lay heavy on your heart and mind.

For all the things you've accomplished all your life, this is becoming the most challenging. You already feel like a failure.

"There's always a next time, darling." Henry comforted you, gently rubbing the small of your back. You just sobbed, soaking his shirt with your tears.

"I don't know. I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Hank." He hushed you gently and led you out to your living room.

You both settled on the couch, where you snuggled to Henry, feet tucked under you, as you continued to sob and he just held you against his broad chest.

"I just don't get it, why is it so hard? I'm literally biologically made for this."

"Well, just because it didn't happen now doesn't mean it won't. It's only been three tries." He cooed.

"Three tries over the span of 8 months, Hank. I took a really long break, I gave up touring for this. You…took time for this, too."

“You do realize that you can’t go on tour when you’re pregnant, right?” He replied and you just let out a loud sigh. 

“But I’m not. I could be touring instead, you could be out on a date with someone you like.” He snorted. 

“Well, first of all. I love you, you know that. And darling, you can’t be in two places at once. These things take time. Why so hard on yourself?”

You honestly feel like your brain is so fried and your body so tired, and bloated. 

You feel like shit. 

The tests may tell you there’s no baby in there, but boy do you look pregnant from the bloatedness, thanks to the fertility medications that have proven themselves useless so far and it’s becoming a tabloid talk recently. 

You can’t read another pregnancy speculation about yourself.

Not when you know it’s not happening at all. Plus, there’s a huge chance of dragging Henry’s name into it, which you’re doing your best to prevent from happening. Not going out in public with him where you know you could be snapped. You haven’t told anyone about your little secret, not even his family. 

“I’m taking a break from this then.” You said softly, after a long pause. Henry looked at you, surprised to hear the words come out of you. He just nodded in response, and pulled you in closer. 

—-

Henry pulled up your driveway and turned down the radio, opening the passenger side of the door to let you in. You pulled the door open and got in, giving Henry light air kisses on each cheek. 

“Look at you!” You leaned back to take him in, and whistled. He cocked his head in laughter with a hand across his chest, like it was about to burst. 

It’s been six months since the last time you saw each other; you stopped trying and went back to touring for a bit, and he went on to start filming a movie and doing press junkets here and there. 

It had been a busy couple of months and it made Henry think of the what ifs. Glad that you both don’t have to think of a child in the middle of all the things going on in your lives recently, but sad that you don’t get to hold your dream in your arms. 

You both have talked about it, co-parenting. You were surprisingly alright with it, “Better have both parents if you can, right?” You had said, but were clear that you won’t be asking him for anything, still offering to not have him on the birth certificate or forcing a set schedule on him to have the child over, which honestly broke his heart. 

You’re always giving him an out, always thinking of him, his career, his family. 

He wanted to give the child his last name, he wanted to take care of them on his times off or even bring them to set on his days with them, but he didn’t tell you that. In fact, there are so many things that Henry held back as he didn’t want to take this away from you, he knows how important this is to you. 

He’d convinced himself that he’d be content with whatever you give him. He just wants you to have your dream and be happy. He can be happy with that, too. 

“So, how’s life on the road?” He asked as you snapped your seatbelt on and he began to drive. 

“Good, the usual.” You replied casually. “And how are you, Superman? A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully at him, and he just side-eyed you with a cocked brow. 

“Let me guess, Charlie told you?” He breathed. You shook your head, opening your purse to take out a packet of Reese’s pieces. 

“No, your mom, actually.” You replied, shoving marbled chocolates into your mouth. Remembering the phone call you had with Marianne a few weeks ago, and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. Wondering if Henry would still want to donate sperm or if this budding relationship of his had changed his mind. You remember feeling hurt that you won’t be co-parenting with him… But as always, you understood. He has his life, you have yours. He’s already given you so much all those months ago when you tried. 

Your brain went into a hundred different scenarios all at once during that phone call, you wondered how you ever got through it. 

“Hey!” He exclaimed when he heard you ripping the packet and started chewing. “No eating in the car!” 

“Jesus, so strict! It’s just Reese’s pieces, it’s not gonna stink up the damned car. Calm down! Here, have some...” You held your hand out next to his mouth and he reluctantly ate the chocolates. 

“Damn, that’s good.” He muttered. 

“So, who’s the girl?” You pressed on, still chewing, and he just chuckled, shaking his head. 

“No one.” He said, holding his palm out and you poured more Reese’s in them. “It didn’t work out.” He added before shoving the chocolate into his mouth. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You replied dryly. 

“Enough about me.” He said, mouth still full with chocolates. “Excited for tonight?” 

“Oh absolutely. Haven’t seen you and the gang in a long time.” He chuckled at the way you referred to his brothers and some of your group of friends’ as ‘the gang’. 

—

It was Charlie’s birthday and drinks were overflowing, the music was loud, reverberating throughout the exclusive club one of your common friends owns. You were lost on the dance floor, a drink in hand swaying–hoping your legs won’t give out from both exhaustion, fun and alcohol all mixed together like the cocktail in your hand. 

Your friend, Emilia, stood on her toes lightly to whisper something in your ear. You could not hear exactly what she was saying, but she was gesturing with her thumb to the guy behind her holding her other hand, with a huge smile plastered on his face. You just nodded and they left. 

You saw Charlie and Simon going back to the dancefloor with a bottle of champagne on each hand, showering people with the bubbly treat. You laughed as both men refilled the now empty glass in your hand until it overflowed and your shoes were soaking wet. 

Charlie chugged down a bottle and raised it with a loud “Whoo!” when he finished it in one go. You laughed harder and downed your own drink in one go, too. Simon refills it soon as you’re done. 

You’re definitely drunk now. 

The two men went deeper into the dance floor and shared the bubbly drinks with more of the guests dancing. Left alone now with a half-empty glass, you started or more like swayed your way back to the bar, almost stumbling over a bar stool when you suddenly felt a hand slip on your waist, pulling you up to your seat, you turned halfway to see who it was and surprised to see Henry beaming down on you, hand still splayed across your stomach. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered next to your ear, lightly nuzzling his nose at your earlobe. You felt a shiver run down your spine. 

He seemed to be drunk, too. You thought. Except he wasn’t; Henry tried his best to stick to just a pint, knowing that he’d have to drive later that night. But there was something about you, about the situation, about the dress you’re wearing that made him a little bolder than usual. He took his hands off you, afraid of ruining the moment. 

You smiled and nodded in reply, “Yeah. I’m not drinking anymore. I’m too old for this.” You laughed as he settled in the seat next to you. You flagged the bartender and ordered yourself a bottle of water.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You said after downing half of the bottle. “I’m too old for this.” You repeated.

“Would rather stay home with the kids, honey?” He joked and you laughed. 

“Yeah, better call the sitter cause I’m going home now to tuck them in myself.” You joked back with a wide smile as you got off your seat. He threw his head back laughing. 

“No, seriously, Hank. I’m going home.” You told him and he nodded. 

“Let me take you home.” You shook your head ‘no’. 

“It’s fine, Hank. I’m calling an Uber.” 

“There are paps outside, I’m driving you myself.” You snickered at his argument. 

“What difference would it make? Paps seeing us together would only make it worse.” He knew you were right, but he can’t let you go home alone like this. 

But Henry was persistent. He took your hand and led you to a back exit that leads straight to the parking lot, not long after you were seated at the passenger seat of his car as you watched London go by in blur through the window. 

“You okay?” He asked, you’ve be been quiet for far too long.

“Mmhmm…” 

“What’s going on in there?” He asked, tapping a finger on your temple and you snickered, shaking your head. 

“Nothing…I think I’m just tired.” Lie. You wanted to ask him if he’s dating again after the last one Marianne told you about. You wanted to ask him if he’d still want to donate, and co-parent, and draw dreams together in the air like you did a few months ago. But you’ve thought of this over and over the past few weeks, it wouldn’t be right anymore. 

You wondered why you never thought of possible scenarios before you even started with your IUI’s.

Henry let out a slow breath, he knew exactly what’s in your head. He knew that you weren’t over the disappointment and the heartbreak from the last time your IUI failed. He knows so well, and this is exactly what he was waiting for, an opportunity to open it up.

“When’s your next time off?” He asked and you looked up at him slightly surprised.

“I have one last string of shows in London next weekend and after that I’m a free man.” You replied. “Why? Do I need to babysit Kal again?” You joked. 

He laughed, shaking his head, his curls bouncing on the side of his head. His dimples were so deep and the light that shone through the windshield from the car in front of you casted a beautiful shadow against his sharp features. 

Wow, you are definitely drunk. 

“What are you looking at?” He asked when he felt your eyes on him; He cocked an eyebrow at your direction, but you only shook your head in response. Willing yourself to stop ogling him.

Nearly 20 years of friendship, you asked yourself, why are you only realizing exactly just how handsome he is? 

You always knew he was good looking, great physique, killer smile, incredible sense of humor. But you’ve never seen him in this light nor have you ever felt a warmth pooling in your center at the mere sight of him.

What was in the drinks at Charlie’s party?

He looked at you and let out another laugh and muttered, “Jesus.” Your brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted and you look at him not with confusion, no. It’s as if you’re coming to a sudden realization about something, if only he knows what. 

He called out your name, looking at you quickly and turning his eyes back on the road, his grip on the wheels tightened a bit. Knuckles almost turning white. 

“Hmm?” You sounded like you were being taken out of a daze. He chuckled and shook his head. “You are so drunk, are you?” 

“I guess.” You murmured, blinking a few times before looking down at your hands, playing with the hem of your skirt. 

“May I ask you something?” 

“Go on.” 

“Would you…” He started but he paused. “Would you want to try again?” 

That startled you. After the last time you tried and failed, and then him dating again, you didn’t think he’d still want to donate. And if you’re being a hundred percent honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want to ask him anymore, not wanting to complicate his future relationships by being tied to you with a child. Despite the fact that you think he’s the perfect donor, in all aspects, including co-parenting. 

“I don’t know, Hank. I mean, of course I wanted to try again but…” You swallowed, man, this is hard but it’s for the best, you thought. “But you don’t have to donate anymore.” 

Read Part 3

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit

[missmonsters2]

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

Count: 4.9k

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"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information. 

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant. 

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday. 

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments. 

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her. 

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered. 

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you. 

"You study too much."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday." 

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day. 

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now. 

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time. 

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not. 

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath. 

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead. 

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities. 

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

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"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached. 

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle. 

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet. 

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target. 

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent. 

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged. 

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing. 

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both. 

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive." 

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued. 

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.  

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up. 

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along. 

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side. 

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief. 

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here. 

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you. 

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle. 

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here. 

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one. 

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you. 

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory. 

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own. 

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion. 

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring. 

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row. 

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth. 

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask. 

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you. 

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals. 

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile. 

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery." 

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic. 

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot. 

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind. 

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away. 

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying. 

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying. 

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look. 

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines. 

A lifetime together. 

A lifetime with you. 

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling. 

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag. 

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it. 

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned. 

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer. 

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why. 

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds. 

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words. 

You don't take the hint. 

"I don't feel that way about you anymore." 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was fine—it was. 

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio. 

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to. 

This is fine. 

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best. 

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her. 

It is meant to be this way. 

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now. 

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour. 

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance. 

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago. 

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following. 

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her. 

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next. 

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you. 

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore. 

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday. 

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life. 

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure. 

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello. 

How entirely damning. 

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer. 

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood. 

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission. 

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief. 

None of this is. 

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession. 

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back. 

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person? 

Along with the anger settles in hollowness. 

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them. 

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around. 

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern. 

Wednesday doesn't answer. 

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago. 

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday. 

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry. 

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. 

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging. 

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too. 

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids. 

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder. 

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken. 

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

[arcane-vagabond]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Jake flirting, nothing else really.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: So, I lied. Here's another update for you all. Feel like the quality might have dropped off a little halfway since I wrote the last half on my phone at work lol I'm not sure yet if I'll have anything to post tomorrow as I work weird hours, but here's hoping! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. My inbox is always open to chat. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

“Well, this is it,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. You looked at the house before you. It was a large, two story home with freshly painted white walls and matching white picket fence surrounding the yard. A chimney was built on both sides of the house, and a giant porch hugged the front as well as the second floor. A barn sat further down the path that led to your new home, and a simple wooden fence stretched even further.

“It’s beautiful, Benji,” you started, “but how much land did you purchase?”

Benjamin rubbed his neck sheepishly. “About one thousand acres.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “One thousand acres? Benji!”

“Hear me out, Scout,” he pleaded. “The cattle we raise will bring in even more money. We can establish a legacy here!”

“We already had a legacy,” you muttered, and Benjamin fixed you with soft, pleading eyes. You sighed. “You don’t even know the first thing about raising cattle.”

He perked up. “Oh, Maverick said he’d teach me all I need to know. Even made suggestions on who to hire as ranch hands when the time comes. He’s the one that convinced me to seek out my fortunes.”

“Was he now?” You murmured, already plotting what you were going to say to the town’s founder when you met him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Benjamin, and you glanced up at him. “But this will be good for us, Scout. We’ll be a part of history and expanding our country. Making it better.”

You hummed, and he continued with a sigh. “The truth is, Scout, my firm isn’t making as much money as I had hoped out here. Ranching will help bolster our income until I can become more established in these parts.”

You sighed, knowing there wasn’t much you could say in argument. Instead, you turned back to look at the house, shadows growing darker as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. “Let’s go then. I’m eager to see the new house.”

Benjamin practically skipped up to the house, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside. It was much grander than you were expecting. Wooden floors gave way to a grand staircase that turned into the next floor. You made your way through one of the archways and found yourself in the parlor. Your family’s furniture already decorated the room, and you brushed your fingers gently over the top of the grand piano in the corner. Continuing, you found yourself standing in a large kitchen, one of the fireplaces taking up a large portion of the far wall.

“If you’re hungry, I think Natasha left some stew for us,” Benjamin, striding over to where a pot hung above the small fire. You raised an eyebrow, barely containing your smirk.

“Does Natasha cook for you often?”

You saw a bashful expression creep its way onto your brother’s face as he straightened up to look at you with a small pout. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing, Benji. But, no. I’m not hungry at the moment. I’d much rather get some rest after my long day of travel.”

Benjamin nodded and led you up the stairs. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opening it and gesturing for you to step inside. Doing so, you saw your familiar pieces of furniture that you had shipped off weeks ago. Your hand mirror sat on your vanity, and your wardrobe door was opened to reveal your more practical, every day use dresses. You walked further into the room and up to the window. Peering out, you could faintly make out the barn and rolling desert in the sprawling darkness. If you looked harder, you could faintly see the outline of the distant mountains. Turning back to face your brother, you offered a smile.

“It’s lovely, Benji. Thank you.”

Benjamin returned your smile and gestured down the hall. “My room is two down if you need me for anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening. Go on,” you waved him off. “You need your sleep just as much as I do.

“Before I forget, Maverick has invited us to dinner with him and his wife, Penny, the night after next,” he said. You nodded, letting him know that you had heard.With one last smile, Benjamin closed the door behind him.

“Benji, have you gone shopping for supplies at all, or do you send poor Natasha out to do your tasks?” you clucked impatiently, finding nothing but a stale loaf of bread in the pantry. You had managed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop earlier that morning, and that was all that made up you and your brother’s meager breakfast.

“I haven’t the time, Scout,” he mumbled, already gathering his things for the day. “Besides, you know I’m not much of a cook.”

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never understand,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Benjamin looked at you with a twinkle in his.

“Eye rolling is not becoming of a proper young lady,” he snickered. Scowling you made to whip him with the towel you held in your hand, but he dodged it at the last second.

“Go, before you’re late,” you hollered as he rushed out the door. Sighing, you made a mental note to teach him at least some of the basics in the upcoming days. Turning, you marched back into the pantry and looked at the empty shelves disdainfully with hand on your hips.

“Honestly,” you muttered, exasperated at how incompetent your brother seemed at doing the most basic of things. You made a list of supplies you would need in the upcoming days, and walked out to take another look at the house. As much as your brother could fumble on the small things, he did have an eye for home decor. There were very few pieces of furniture you wanted to move around across the whole house, and you made another mental note to let Benjamin know that evening when he returned.

Walking out the front door with a basket in hand for your supplies, your eyes were drawn to a small patch of the front yard that had been fenced off. How you hadn’t noticed it the night before was beyond you, and you chose to chalk it up to fatigue from your journey. You walked over and saw several gardening tools scattered along the ground, and you realized this must have been the garden Benjamin had mentioned yesterday to you in his excitement.You added seeds to your list of supplies for the day.

You turned away from the garden and made sure to latch the gate to your front yard securely before strolling down the path into town.

Today was much like yesterday had been. People walking up and down the streets, shouting at one another in greeting, and children still running about. You wondered why they weren’t in school at this time of day. You resolved yourself to asking Maverick about it the next evening at dinner. Turning down on to the main street, you stepped onto the porch of the general store. Across the street at the saloon, you saw a group of men gathered by the entrance. One of them turned and saw you, and you suppressed an eye roll when he let out a long whistle.

“Hey there, darlin’!” he called out to you. He was handsome, you’d give him that. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight and you could make out his white smile from across the road. Strong muscles were hidden by his simple, white cotton shirt and beige wool pants. A hat covered his short, dark hair. Choosing to ignore the stranger, and by extension his four companions who had turned to look your way, you walked into the general store. the owner greeted you as you stepped into the spacious room that housed a multitude of goods from different places.

“Howdy, miss!” He chirped, leaning against the counter with a smile. He was older, dark skin weathered. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. The name’s Hondo.”

You returned his smile warmly. “A pleasure, Hondo. My name is y/n. My brother is Benjamin, perhaps you know him? He runs the firm just down the road.”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled. “The lawyer from Baltimore. Well, miss, you’re in luck! I’ve just gotten back from Independence with new goods and I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until my partner, Joel, arrives back in town. Should be any day now, in fact.”

“I see, and what is that you have today?” You inquired, taking in the multitudes of crates still scattered around the counter.

“Let’s see,” Hondo thought. “I got some salt and some fine new tools from St.Louis. I also managed to trade for some fresh produce down by Independence.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled as Hondo began showing you his wears.

You spent about a half hour picking out the best produce Hondo had to offer, making plans to return when his partner made it back into town.

“Hondo, I don’t suppose you have anything in the way of cooking wine?” You asked, placing your new wears into your basket. Hondo grimaced with a shake of his head.

“'Fraid not, miss.” He sighed, looking out past his door towards the tavern. “But Miss Penny should have somethin’ for you to use.”

“Maverick’s wife?” You asked, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. Hondo nodded, a look if worry on his face.

“Penny runs the saloon here in town. Normally, I wouldn’t even suggest you go ‘round that place without someone accompanyin’ you, but everyone here knows not to mess with Miss Penny. You should be safe while she’s there.”

You handed Hondo the money you owed him, and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Just be careful who you talk to when you’re over there, ya hear?” He called after you as you moved to leave. “A lot of real unsavory types like to prey on pretty, little things like you!”

“I will!” You called over your shoulder. You looked across the street to see the group of men from earlier had migrated down the porch over to, you assumed, their horses. Making sure they were safely distracted, you hurried your way across the road. Trotting up the steps, you made it to the door just as the group turned around to see you. Before they could say anything, however, you marched confidently into the saloon.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought, considering Hondo’s warning. The interior looked a tad run down, but you supposed it had been in business for a while. It was clear that it was a beauty back in its debut. A piano was shoved against the far wall and several tables were scattered across the room with a few patrons nursing different liquids. A woman came out of a back room and spotted you. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Dark hair framed a slender face, and bright eyes looked at you with a maternal warmth you hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” She called to you. “What is it that I can getcha?”

“Hi,” you smiled, walking closer to the counter where she leaned. You could feel the stares from the other patrons on your back, and you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she started, casting a stern look across the room. “No one here’ll mess with you while I’m here. Name’s Penny.”

You held out your hand when you were close enough to the bar to reach her. “I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

“You must be Benjamin’s sister. You two look so much alike, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” she laughed, the lines on her face crinkling. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would look as beautiful as she did when you were her age. She took your hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“We get that quite a bit, actually,” you chuckled, dropping your hand back down to your side.

Penny’s smile grew wider. “So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for some cooking wine. Hondo mentioned you might be able to help me find some.”

“Cooking wine, huh?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded, turning to head back into the back room. “Yeah, I think I just got some new bottles in, actually.”

You waited while she disappeared through the door. You heard the group of men outside on the porch, and it sounded like they had moved back towards the entrance. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You took a closer look at the saloon. A set of stairs led up to a second floor that must double as an inn of sorts. Your brother had told you that's where he stayed while your home was being built.

“The townsfolk here are all kind as saints here, Scout,” he had written to you in one of his many letters. He hadn’t been wrong, well, save for one person. You frowned at the memory of the tall blond and his debonair smile. The outlaw probably wooed many girls with those good looks and charming words. You would not be fooled.

At that moment, Penny appeared back around the corner with two bottles of wine and another warm smile. You took the bottles from her gratefully, and slipped them into your basket.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked, but Penny shook her head.

“No charge,” she said. “Call it a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

“Thank you,” you responded. You heard the group outside laugh, and you couldn't stop the slight frown from etching itself onto your face. Penny noticed, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Those boys may be loud and rowdy,” she began, “but they’re harmless. I promise. Just walk out of here with your head held high, and if they start to give you trouble, you call for me. I’ll knock their heads together.”

You nodded your head. You made your way back to the swinging doors, but stopped just shy. You willed your nerves to settle, and straightening your shoulders, you marched as confidently as you could out of the saloon.

The men were all gathered around the steps, and their conversation stopped when you stepped out. You could see them all more clearly now, and to your dismay, they were all unfairly handsome.

“Hey there again, darlin’,” grinned the man from before. He leaned in closer to you with a glint in his eye. “Name’s Javy. What’s yours?”

“Coyote, you asshole,” snapped the man to his left. “Tell her our names, too!”

Javy—Coyote—rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“These here are my compadres—Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben,” he said, gesturing to each man as he said their name. He turned back to you with a smirk. “Now what about yours?”

At that moment, the saloon doors swung open, and a familiar blond strolled out with a hard set look on his face. His eyes darted from the group of men before you down to yours, and his grumpy expression melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Did you get it?” Asked the man off to your right—Bradley. Jake spared him a glance before returning his eyes to you.

“‘Course I did, Rooster,” he replied, walking closer to you. You gripped your basket harder and fixed him with a glare. “Fancy seeing you here, Scout.”

Rooster? You realized now that the Dagger Gang is who stood before you, and you suddenly found yourself feeling weary.

“Mr. Seresin,” you replied curtly, turning his smirk into a full blown grin.

“C’mon now, Scout. I thought we decided you’d call me Jake?”

“I don’t recall that being how the conversation went,” you sniffed. Javy cleared his throat from where he stood from behind you. You both looked over to find him and the rest of the squad grinning. Well, Bradley was smirking. The others were grinning.

“Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night, Hangman?” Bradley—Rooster—asked, humor evident in his voice. You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ignoring his friends, he looked back at you, some of his bravado returning.

“Ignore my friends,” he said, smile returning. “They don't know when to shut up.”

You hummed, “I could say the same thing about you.”

You heard a couple of snickers from behind you, and Jake cast a glare over your shoulder. Looking back at you, he continued, “Now, sugar. That wasn’t very nice. I’ve been plenty nice to you.”

You let out a noise of derision. “You and I must have very different definitions of the word ‘nice,’ Mr. Seresin.”

“If you let me,” he smirked, leaning closer so that his breath fanned over your face. Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment at his proximity. “I could show you all the ways I can be nice.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, lost in the emeralds of his eyes. Blinking, you murmured, “Not a chance.”

You turned to the group behind you, offering them a tight lipped smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future, sweetheart,” grinned Javy.

“Yes, well,” you smiled politely, “let’s hope not.”

You pushed past them and began making your way down the road. A hand gripped your elbow, spinning you back around so that you crashed into a solid chest of muscle. Looking up, stunned, you were once again in close proximity of Jake Seresin.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he offered, gesturing back at Whiskey. You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to try and put some kind of barrier between the two of you. Jake took your hand in his, squeezing it tight.

“That's not necessary,” you breathed. “I live just down the road.”

“Then let me walk you,” he pushed.

“Down the street?” You snorted. Jake grinned, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“A lot could happen between now and when you get home.”

“Goodbye, Jake,” you said with a pointed look, pulling away from him. You tried not to frown at how cold you felt without his presence next to you. You turned to walk away.

“I’ll wear you down one day, sugar! You’ll be in love with me before you know it,” He called after you. You stopped in your tracks, whirling around to fix him with your iciest glare.

“I am not something to be conquered,” you hissed. Jake stared at you for a long minute, a different kind of smile crept onto his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said this one was almost…affectionate.

“I don’t expect you to be,” he said finally, giving you a two finger salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Scout.”

[that1emowitch]

here me out

AU where instead of doing the whole red hood thing, jason just stays with the all caste. he finally meets the batfam when the justice league is facing a threat and need the help of the all caste. could be pretty good angst, since it directly disproves every shitty thing bruce said about jay, and bruce realises that his son was alive like way later than in canon

also it's a crime that jayessence basically doesn't exist, there are 11 fics on ao3. i want jayessence and competent!jason pls

That'll be so interesting, ur right! I'm definitely gonna go read RHATO issues again so I refresh my memory (if there r any other issues with the all-caste story PLEASE lmk cuz i have a very tumultuous love/hate relationship with RHATO lol)

I think Jason would've been happier, with the All-Caste. Talia would've visited him when she could (let's make her a mom not a pedo), Ducra would've trained him in every single war form she knew, putting hum on a path to surpass even her

Essence and Jay would've been her top students (if u don't mind, could u pls give me a lil recap on what Essence's story is? I kinda got confused in that part. Was she banished? She's one of the Untitled, technically, is she not? I don't rmbr 😭)

But basically, Jayessence! I've never read a fic about it or written one, but I've always thought it was an interesting dynamic! It'd be fun to try writing it out. Maybe I'll make a happier AU, where Essence and Jason train together under Ducra, both of them named her heirs. That kinda makes them play-fight with each other which ends up with them kissing. Oh god Jason would be so smitten by her, he'd pretend to be annoyed but he knows she's a goddess, knows she could kill him in a blink, knows his blade could kill her—but they both choose to love. AAHHABSBSHS I'm dying

Then the Untitled attack.

I love Ducra so much, she's their BAMF Granny, so let's not kill her. Maybe instead, she is kidnapped, in hopes of getting Jason and Essence to surrender (They know these two could destroy them). And at the same time, the Untitled are also attacking JLA outposts, for a reason I'll come up with later. Bruce remembers, back when he trained under the League, Ra's mentioning evil beings of this type, immortal and unstoppable by all but the All-Caste. Hence they seek their help.

And with Ducra gone, Jason and Essence are in charge, and they have to meet with the JLA—with Batman, Superman, and WW, specifically.

Jason makes sure to cover himself completely. Puts white nose generators in his mask and chest plate to ward off Supes. Makes sure to double, triple check his voice modulator. He cannot risk them finding out his true identity.

Not when he's finally recovering from his past as Robin.

I'm imaging they work together for a while, with everyone noticing the Red Hood (would he still be called Red Hood, if he never returned to Gotham? Maybe? Maybe he was reclaiming it, as a way to heal himself instead of for getting revenge) basically everyone notices RH being antsy around Batman. The amount of effort he puts into concealing his identity, unlike the other members of All-Caste. His name being Joker’s old name, something deeply meaningful to Gothamites.

Batman thinks RH is a reformed Gotham villain, who he's dealt with before. He thinks that's why RH doesn't ever face him, doesn't look him in the eye. He feels bad for him, but is strangely proud (just feel like mentioning, the thing about Batman is, he cares SO MUCH. About everyone. He feels sorrow when they lose themselves to their insanity, feels guilt over it. And he feels pride when they bounce back, grow better, like Harley Quinn did.) Like, this man, this absolute machine, clearly well honed and trained, who seems more than capable of taking on the entire Justice League by himself. Clearly he has experience.

Essence helps Jason through it. Soothes him at night when he has panic attacks, because his Dad is two rooms away from him. Helps him cope. Helps him calm down.

Then one day in some battle, one of the Untitled fatally injures Jason, and Batman is the only one nearby. Batman takes a hasty decision, rips Jason's mask off to save him.

And freezes.

That... that's his son. He looks older, more scarred, but thats... that's his SON!

(ALSO another addition: when they find Ducra she's like "uncuff me, and I'll show you just who Essence and Jason learnt from" BAMF!DUCRA FOR LIFEE)

Sorry for the rambling I just kept getting ideas and I kept writing lol

I promise I'll write this as a proper story as soon as I can, thanks so much for the ask! As usual, lmk in the comments if you'd like me to tag u in updates, also feel free to share any ideas u have! I'm just writing what yall want to read that makes me happy hehe

[edwardallenpoe]

My first ever Sherlock & Co. Fic, it's ofc about Sherlock's DID. One of Sherlock's headmates fronts after being dormant for a number of years and meets John. Very fluffy, kind of angsty but more comfort less hurt. Mentions ofc of dormancy and allusions to past trauma, plus mentions of panic attacks.

I wrote this mostly inspired by some of my own dormant headmates coming out of dormancy, it's a weird and wonderful and relieving experience for us.

This fic is now on ao3 (link)

Fic under the cut (no editing, I wrote this in a flash, do not judge lol):

When he opened my eyes, he knew immediately some time has passed since the last time he did. 

He looked around the room, trying to discern and deduce where he was- definitely an apartment, so not a dorm or his parents place, somewhere he resides, mainly. He stood on wobbly feet, noticing the tightness of his trousers on his waist- they've gained weight, how odd- and made his way outside the bedroom, finding the bathroom to be right next to his bedroom, seeing in the mirror his- no, Sherlock's- reflection. 

He touches his cheek, sees new scars, and old, familiar ones faded. He runs his hands through his hair, clean and scented and soft. It's been a considerable amount of time. 

“Sherlock? It's around that time, Mariana wanted to talk about some potential clients, remember?” He heard a voice, and he felt a small sort of panic rise in him. 

“Er, j-just a minute!” He lets out, and wonders at how full his voice sounds. 

“uh… alright, then… you alright, mate?” The voice just inside the doorframe now, the reflection of a man with shaggy blond hair and a scruffy beard leaning on the frame, his blue eyes piercing through him. The silence in his head, a void only a minute ago, helpfully supplies him with some help as he hears John play over. 

“Yes, I'm fine, John.” He says, and the man's eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, his eyes wide. 

“You called me John, and it wasn't even a tense emotionally charged moment of stress and trauma, now I definitely know somethings wrong. What is it, Sherlock?” He asked, and he damned his parts. 

“I…” then, fear rises. He had no idea if this John person knew, knew of the secret that they had held since Trevor, new of the myriad of thoughts and voices this body shares. 

John's eyes softened. “Hey, it's okay, whatever it is. You can trust me.” 

He wishes desperately for someone, anyone to confirm or deny this, and he gets the overwhelming trust his host feels for this man. 

“I… I'm Scotty.” He says. “I haven't… not since…” 

Understanding blooms on John's face, and he smiles. “It's really nice to meet you, Scotty. I'm John Watson. Sherlock has told me about you.” 

Scotty crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at John's shoes. “What has he told you?” 

“He told me you left, a long time ago. Dormancy, he said?” 

Scotty nodded. “It's been a very long time. I don't know what…” he intended to add time, year, anything, but it was a given. He didn't really know anything. 

“The year's 2024, it's July. We're in London, 221b Baker Street. I'm your roommate, and Sherlock's best friend. We have Mariana, and Archie downstairs.” John explains softly. “D'you want something to eat?” 

Scotty nods. 

John smiles. “I've only just started getting Sherlock to eat, it's nice to have some cooperation, c'mon.” 

John leads him out of the bathroom and to a small kitchen area, in complete disarray but generally nicer than most kitchens Scotty has seen. It looks like the people that use it care, not only for the stationary and cutlery but for their living space, their home. It makes something warm inside of Scotty bubble. 

“This is… nice.” He says to John, and the man snorts. 

“Glad you think so, I think I about given up on keeping it tidy, keeping track of Sherlock is a near impossible task.” John motions for the and, and Scotty sits, placing his hands on the surface. “How does, um… eggs? Eggs sound?” John asked as he rummaged through their fridge. Scotty smiled at John, tried not to laugh at the effort the man was putting into this. 

“That sounds good, John.” he looked around more, peering into the living room a bit. It was also messy, papers and books and mugs and wires everywhere, hoodies and dog toys and dvd's as well, and Scotty furrowed his brow in fascination. “How long have we been living together, John?” He asked. 

“Oh, uh,” he blew out some air as he thought, clicking his tongue. “Around, I want to say, nine months now? Moved in around the end of october, I think?” 

“Wow…” He mutters. All the trinkets, all. The pieces, the papers, the studies Sherlock loves and cares for so much, integrated so deeply into John's own life. To be honest with himself, he wasn't sure where Sherlock's things started and John's ended. “You're… really important to us.” 

He hears John sputter a little. “What? I mean, not that I didn't know, just- y'know. Odd to hear it.” 

Scotty shook his head. “Even with Trevor, or all of Sherlock's other friends, things weren't like… this. We really care for you, and you care for us.” 

John clears throat. “I'mean, 'course I do, Scotty. Your system has helped me in a lot of ways, ways I'm not sure even I understand.” 

Scotty looked to John, fascinated. “You've met the others?” 

“Fleetingly,” John clarified. “I believe his name was… Arthur? He helps Sherlock go to bed, sometimes, when he stays up for longer than four days. And Shelley, she's fronted a couple times to help with my panic attacks.” 

Scotty's heart warms. To know that his parts were still around, doing good when he was away, it was reassuring to know. 

“I'm glad, then.” Scotty says. “It's good to know we've met you, John Watson. Things weren't always… like this. This nice. Things were…” he closes his eyes as he tries to not think of that night, that man, once so high, now brought down by his own hubris, and the rushing torrent of your fault, your fault, your fault- he felt that night. “Hard. It's good.” 

John comes to sit across from Scotty, smiling. “I know. It was the same for me. I'm glad I met you, Scotty.” 

John makes the eggs, and Scotty eats about two before he's finished, and John goes downstairs to explain that Sherlock was having a bad day, and Scotty stayed upstairs, petting Archie, who slobbered all over his lap, though he found he couldn't mind. 

We made it, he thought, over and over. We made it. 

By the time John had come back upstairs, The body of Sherlock's system was curled up on the couch, nuzzling Archie to find comfort. “Scotty?” He asked, and got a negative hum in response. 

“Sherlock?” He tried, and he got a nod. “Hey, how are you doing?” 

Sherlock lifted his head, his face red and tear streaked. “I'm… I'm okay. I'm good. Thank you, John.” 

John's heart melts, and he comes to sit next to Sherlock, rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades. “Of course, Sherlock, of course. It was really the least I could do.” 

Sherlock sniffled. “Frédéric had said that there was a chance Scotty wasn't ever coming back. That he wouldn't until he felt complete and utter safety.” 

Realization slowly crept onto John. “I… you feel safe. Here, with us?” 

Sherlock nodded. “After what happened… I couldn't blame him. But I'm just-” he turned away from the dog and instead found comfort in John's embrace, and John immediately wrapped his arms around him. “Thank you.” 

John squeezed, rubbing his back. “Of course, Sherlock, of course.” 

Scotty popped up a couple times over the next few days, but his fronting activity dwindled. John had almost worried he had gone dormant again, but Sherlock seemed happy, whole, and good, and he found that wherever Scotty lay in that great big brain of theirs, he would do what it took to make him feel safe. 

[deadlyashesart]

Alastor's disappearance (Part 1)

Part 1 of a fanfiction I'm writing! There's not enough Rosie angst in this world so I have to do it myself. I've never written fanfiction before, by the way. Don't hurt me if it's bad LOL. I wanted to post this on AO3 but realized I didn't have an AO3 account and they said it might take me till April to get one and I don't wanna wait...

Based on a post I made yesterday.

Part 2

-----

It had been five months since Rosie had last seen her dear friend, Alastor. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary coming from the Radio Demon, but something deep in Rosie’s gut told her something was gravely wrong. Despite this, she had a colony filled with cannibals to feed, and couldn’t waste her time worrying about something as simple as a ‘gut feeling’.

Rosie sat at the front desk of Franklin and Rosie’s Emporium. It was a beautiful day—at least as beautiful as it got in Hell—and the emporium was packed. Rosie was aiding a customer, unaware her business partner was standing right behind her.

Franklin leaned in close. “Rosie, I believe you should step aside with me for a moment,” she whispered.

Rosie paused, turning her head slightly before bringing her attention back to the customer on the other side of the counter. “Mrs. Odette, I’m so sorry, but I must cut our consultation short. I insist you take my card and come back soon!” she said politely, handing the fellow cannibal her business card before waving a hand, gesturing for her to leave.

Rosie followed Franklin away from the crowd, every so often glancing back at the long line that waited for her return. “What is it, my dear? I’m quite busy.”

“It’s about Alastor. He’s gone missing,” Franklin answered abruptly. She spoke quietly as if exchanging top-secret information.

Rosie laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh darling, don’t be so ridiculous!”

“I’m not! Everyone’s talking about it. He hasn’t been seen anywhere, and his radio show hasn’t been updated in weeks! You, of all people, should know how much he loves that show, he wouldn’t miss a day, at least without telling anyone!” Franklin went silent, and a thought crept into her head. “Oh, I wonder if he’s been killed..!”

Rosie’s eyebrows furrowed in worry. After a moment of thought, she spoke, “I’m sure he’s fine, darling.”

“I see… Very well then, I just wanted to let you know. I’m aware you two are very good friends.”

“Yes, and I’m certain he’s quite alright. He’s most likely just taking a break from the radio scene!” Rosie replied, knowing deep down that even she didn’t believe a word she was saying. “Besides, if he was killed, the murderer would’ve made a big show about taking down the mighty Radio Demon, would they not? As far as I know, that hasn’t happened yet!”

Franklin nodded softly. “You’re right, you’re right… If that had happened, we’d have something a lot worse to worry about.”

“Correct. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to attend to.” Rosie curtsied as a gesture of farewell before returning to the front desk of the emporium.

-----

Later that night, Rosie tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She couldn’t stop worrying about Alastor, just the thought of him brought an ache in her chest. After a while of fighting with her internal dialogue back and forth, she groaned in defeat. She sat up and reached for the small radio that was on her bedside table, a gift from Alastor to show his appreciation towards her. Her hands fiddled with the dials as she turned the frequency to Alastor’s radio show; There was nothing but static.

Rosie sighed, unsure why she thought that would work. He didn’t even broadcast this late at night. She was desperate. All she wanted to hear was her dear friend’s voice, so she could know he was alright, know if he was hurt, know if he was alive. She silently cursed Franklin’s name, frustrated with her putting the thought of Alastor’s death in her mind.

Rosie didn’t get any sleep that night. Or the next night, or the next.

-----

A few weeks passed, and she didn't get better. Franklin walked up to Rosie, handing her a cup of fresh coffee. “You look like hell, darling. Have you been getting any sleep?”

Rosie sat down on the couch, exhausted from her terrible sleep schedule. She took a huge sip of coffee, but that didn’t do much. “I’m fine, Franklin… I just… Would you mind taking the morning shift today?” She brought a hand to her head, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Okay, I can do that! But you’re obviously not fine, dear. The bags under your eyes have gotten worse, this isn’t like you!”

Rosie’s eyes drifted toward the radio that was placed on the coffee table in front of her, and Franklin immediately connected the dots. “Oh, my dear, is this about Alastor’s disappearance?”

Rosie did not respond. Franklin sighed. She sat down next to her and slowly pulled her into a hug, and she could feel Rosie shiver as a lump caught in her throat.

“I don’t know where he could’ve gone… Maybe he is dead, Franklin,” Rosie mumbled, burying her face in her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t want to cry, I don't want to worry. He’d probably laugh if I did, but… Fuck, I miss him.”

-----