#who would have guessed that the girl who names herself after a knife would be kind of edgy

[green-ray-blog1]

Dagger being a weird white mage

Back when I played FF9 for the first and second time, I was annoyed at how Dagger's a pretty clearly inferior white mage compared to Eiko. Eiko gets full life, esuna, dispel and holy, all awesome spells that Dagger just can't learn. I guess the idea is that Dagger has the more offensive summons but even then it's not like Eiko's summons are bad, and her final one is pretty op.

But replaying the game again, some of that is making sense to me. Dagger's pretty cool, really, and she's kind of a mess.

Like okay, the trope of the white mage who actually kicks grown men's asses appears in other Final Fantasy games. Aerith roughs up some dudes in Don Corneo's house, and I'm pretty sure I remember Yuna knocking out some goons offscreen in FFX. Dagger doesn't seem to hit the same notes, though.

I don't think she ever physically overwhelms another character during the game, which doesn't stop her from jumping from towers or ditching half of the party when they don't want to take her along. She also doesn't have the same kind of enthusiasm about her that the other two try to project. When I used to play FF9, I didn't pay enough attention to her name. She was just Garnet with a fake name, but it's more than that. Aerith and Yuna want/try to be world saviors, but Garnet, for half the game mostly wants to save her mother, and it doesn't go well. I think she feels overwhelmed by Brahne's dedication to go commit worse and worse crimes. So she needs to become something more than the princess bound by her social role. She needs to become something dangerous, like a dagger. Someone who will poison the fuck out of her buddies and run ahead if they don't take her to the frontline. Obviously, Zidane's into that edgy shit, I mean look at Blank (lots of potential slash I previously had no clue about with this one btw).

Dagger's also kind of entitled, for a while ? Which, duh, she's royalty. There's the whole poisoning incident, of course. But during said incident, she doesn't poison Steiner because she knows he'll do what she says, even if he might protest at first. Worse case she can just put her foot down and shut him up. She really does take Steiner for granted. And again, what I find really cool is that it ends up being pretty subtly written (maybe in part because it's often played for laughs but not just that). Steiner doesn't mind being taken for granted. It gives him purpose, even when it's tedious as fuck. It's interesting that they're never really that close and their relationship is mostly a power dynamic.

The first trip to Treno might have lots of layers. Both Dagger and Steiner are having some personal crises. Dagger gets really into the whole plot to rob someone to save Blank (she gets to be dangerous and edgy and rub elbows with bandits, and she doesn't even need Zidane anymore hah), which is a sidetrack from saving her mother, but it does feel right too (and at least that one is successful). Steiner keeps trying to convince himself that Queen Brahne must be right and he shouldn't think too hard about her motives, but gets stung by Baku calling him out for having no thoughts of his own. In French, he asks himself "Am I a puppet?", which feels more direct than the english version. And yeah, dude, maybe you are ? You're also being roped into all sorts of business you wouldn't do because you're at Dagger's beck and call. So when they're back in Alexandria, when he finally opposes Brahne, shortly after, he also decides to stop following her to stay and fight with Freya and Beatrix. In retrospect, maybe that was a well earned vacation for the guy.

But yeah, all in all, maybe I shouldn't be surprised Dagger isn't an S tier white mage, and is more into the big damage summons, including the horrific robot from another planet with a completely excessive animation that does darkness damage.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted

Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.

Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.

“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”

And probably the biggest pain in your ass.

“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.

His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?

“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?

“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.

“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.

There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.

“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.

Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain

“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.

“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”

You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.

It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.

Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?

“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”

What.

On.

Earth.

Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-

“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.

You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.

“Tell me you don’t believe her.”

“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.

He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.

“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”

It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…

Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.

Affection? For Gojo?

“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.

He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.

What a pathetic jerk you are.

You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.

“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.

“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.

You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?

“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”

Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.

Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.

This.

This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?

This right here.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.

Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.

“Believing me know?”

“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.

Tags:

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@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

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@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

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@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

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@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.

S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.

@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.

Anyway.

I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭

And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.

And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.

If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.

And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me

Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 1

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 2

Ch.3

You were hiding something.

In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.

That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.

Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.

"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.

And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.

Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.

It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.

And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.

It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.

Yet you refused to discuss your scars.

Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.

Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.

It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.

You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.

"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."

You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.

"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"

"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."

"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.

"I can tell."

Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.

You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.

"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."

Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.

The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.

Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.

His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.

He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.

There was another sloop tethered to yours.

A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.

"There has to be something on board."

"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."

"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"

Mihawk cleared his throat.

The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.

So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.

"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.

They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.

"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."

They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.

He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally.

"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."

You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.

"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."

He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."

"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.

Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.

You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.

Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.

"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."

"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."

"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.

"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."

You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."

He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.

He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.

"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."

"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."

Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."

Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.

You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.

For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.

He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.

And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.

"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.

You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.

"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"

"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.

"Yet," he corrected.

And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.

He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.

"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."

How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.

"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"

You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.

Absolutely perfect.

Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.

Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.

His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.

He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.

Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.

Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.

Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.

How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.

He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.

"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"

He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.

He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—

Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.

Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.

"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."

But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.

He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"

"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."

You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.

Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.

"I...love you."

(Ch. 2)

[purple-crusader]

Stephcass Week day 2 guys!!! That's the prompt that I wrote about re-writing some time ago. I pivoted from an Earth 3 story to, let's say, medieval setting? A Tangled-like story where Steph has to save her assassin princess from a tower 😙 Hope you guys enjoy this one.

STEPHCASS WEEK Day 2: Alternate Universes

Word count: 1,135

@stephcassweek

Stephanie Brown wanted to do something good for once. She was raised by her single father, Arthur Brown, an important man in the criminal underground of Kingdom of Gothamia, among some of the biggest, filthiest and deadliest men in this corner of the country. Yet, she did not grow up to step into her father's shoes, as much as he wanted her to, she saw how much pain he caused by contacting and helping various rogues and assassins. One day she had enough.

She found out about a hit, that his two loyal men were assigned to do, of retrieving a girl trapped in a secluded tower and taking her to David Cain, "The Orphan-Maker", the deadliest assassin she ever heard of. She knew immediately he would up to no good, so she stolen one of the horses, her father's gear and under the cover of the night, rode to save the girl herself.

She didn't know what to expect, when she heard about a "girl" she thought she'd have to save someone young, maybe a child, which would simplify her plan - get her out of the tower and leave her in an orphanage. It wasn't the most well-thought out plan, but it was at least a good start.

She finally stopped before the tower, after almost a day of non-stop riding. The men who were sent her through her father should get here tommorow, long after she's gone. "Stay here, Spoiler." Steph said to the horse. She walked around the tower, but there was no entrance. Guess she had to climb.

Climbing was an incredible chore, but her training included that, so it wasn't as bad as if she had to do it without being mentally prepared. She finally jumped through the window and looked around the bedroom she got into. A bunch of books were scattered on a bed, there was a a single wardrobe and two doors in here too. She decided to walk towards one of the doors and found herself in a small library. It was pretty lovely, as she observed at first. She didn't have much time for more thinking, as she was soon knocked over in her head, as if someone kicked her... from up above her? As it turned out later, the person who knocked her out hid herself on the top of one of the bookshelves.

Stephanie finally woke up, tied up to a chair. The "little girl" she was supposted to save was looking at her with curiosity. She looked to be around her age, so at least 22 years old. She was Asian, dark hair, thin. Steph couldn't brush off the thought that the woman was also really pretty.

"Soo..." Stephanie begun to talk, "I'm... here to... Save you?" The woman looked at her like she just said it in a different language. "From... David Cain."

The woman's eyes opened up fast, as if the name brought bad memories to her. She started looking around the room, before she picked up one of the books. She opened it and took a little knife from outside. She held it under Steph's throat.

"How do you know about him." She said slowly. Steph begun sweating a bit.

"I- M-my father, A-Arthur B-Brown, he is l-like a m-middle-man who h-hires r-rogues and stuff, if you need some. D-David Ca-ain wanted some guys to get you out of this tower and right t-to him." Steph said as carefully as she could, to not get her throat cut. The dark-haired woman moved away the knife and begun walking around the room (Steph noticed they were in her bedroom now). She moved to the window and looked outside of it. Steph's rope was still hanging. She already sat on the window, ready to slide down with it, when Stephanie screamed, "WAIT!" and the other woman turned at her.

"You can't leave me here! Not after I basically already helped you escape, right? It's my rope you're using now!"

The other woman looked at the rope again and then at Steph. "Yes, it is." She begun to slowly walk down on it, as Stephanie continued her screams.

"YOU'RE NOT GONNA- STOP RIGHT THERE! HAVE SOME DIGNITY! AT LEAST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS HEPPENING HERE!" Cass stopped and got into the room again. She took the knife out and cut the rope she used to tie her hands up. This rope was pretty short and probably the only one she had here, which is why she couldn't escape the tower herself. The dark-haired woman turned to the window yet again and started walking down the rope for the second time, Steph behind her.

She was much faster and way more graceful as she went down, incredibly weird that she had these skills, considering she was just sitting in that tower. Well, she didn't really know how long she was there.

"So how long have you been here?" Stephanie asked. The woman looked down, in thought. "Year, two. Maybe more." She said calmly. "What?! How did you even manage?!"

"I was brought food and water. And books." She said, as she was looking at Spoiler.

"So what's the deal with you? Like you're some kidnapped princess or some?" The woman looked at Steph this time. She started walking towards the woman, before she stood like a feet from her. Their eyes locked.

"I'm Cassandra, David Cain's daughter. He trained me since a child to be a living weapon." Well, Steph could relate to a part of that. Cass got sad now though. "He locked me here to wait before he came back from some important crusade." She turned her back to Stephanie and went to the horse. "I'm not coming back to him." She said as she jumped on the horse. Steph had to stop her there.

"OKAY, OKAY, I see that you really are a loner type!! But don't leave me there!"

"You can walk."

"Haha, you're so funny." Steph said annoyed, as Cass smirked. "At least let me go to the nearest city. It's not like I can go back to my dad now anyway. I disobeyed his orders, going here to save you, give me some credit for that." Cass seemed to understand where she was going from. She shifted a bit to the front in the big saddle, giving Steph a little bit of place. The blonde woman got up there and sat herself behind the dark-haired woman.

"Can you even ride this thing?" Steph said jokingly, as Cass set out and rode twice as fast as she did earlier. She clutched to Cassandra, as they were riding through the meadow, that was near the tower. The wind blew through their hair. It was the first time in quite a while both of the women felt free.

[workingforthewidow]

RJ’s Girl

For the ANON that asked for RJ! I have a second part planned (I know the ending seems rushed but there is another part!) Enjoy

In all the summers (Y/N) had lived in Texas it had never rained this hard for this long. Usually this time of year there was a drought. But here she was with two flat tires stuck in the mud in the middle of the night. She was convinced the world hated her. Today was truly a ‘one step forward two steps back’ kind of day. She had finally moved out of the shitty apartment she had shared with the ex that had left her four months ago and was on her way to stay with some family. They didn’t know she was coming but hopefully her aunt she hadn’t spoken with in three years would let her in. Her parents would be no help. They were too drunk to even remember they had a daughter.

Her self pity party was interrupted by a sharp knock on her window, she turned and jumped when she saw a large male face in the window.

“Need a tow?” The voice was deep and she wasn’t so frustrated she might try and flirt with him.

YN nodded and opened the door stepping out into the rain, “Yes please. Is there a tire shop around here?”

The man nodded, “Family got a gas station few miles up. I have the truck.”

“Thank you so much. I have cash.” She gave the man the keys and followed his orders to climb in the truck. She didn’t know why but something about the man made her feel safe. Like she knew she was going to be okay.

—

RJ knew that was Otis was going to be pissed at him. Spaulding had already called to say he sent a group out. But in the rain his usual route was flooded out and the detour dropped him right in front of a broke down car. Something in him told him he needed to go see who was in the car. And when he saw the girl in the front seat he knew he wanted her. Otis had found his girl a similar way. RJ deserved a girl too. A pretty girl to warm his bed and satisfy his needs.

“RJ.” He grunted out when he climbed in the truck. The girl looked at him and tilted her head. “My name. Rufus Jr. RJ.”

The girl’s mouth formed a perfect “o” shape, “I’m (Y/N).”

RJ thought that was a pretty name. It fit her.

The truck jerked to turn making her fall into him, “I’m sorry.” (Y/N) said quickly and righted herself back up. RJ wished she hadn’t, she fit right up next to him like the last piece of a puzzle.

Far too soon they reached Spaulding. Quick to think RJ pulled out a knife from his boot and held it up to her. Her eyes went wide and started to water.

“Imma leave you here with my uncle. He’ll watch you till I get back. Then I’m bringing home. Mama’s gonna love you.” He put the knife away when she nodded, too stunned to speak. He climbed out and grabbed her carrying her in over his shoulder. She wasn’t crying yet or screaming.

“Dammit RJ the hell you doing back here and what the fuck you doing carrying a bitch around. That ain’t the ones I sent ya.” Spaulding smacked his hand on the counter but he did appreciate the few of the girl’s ass hanging over RJ’s shoulder.

RJ just grunted again and pushed past Spaulding to the back room and put (Y/N) on the couch, “You gonna stay here and be good?” He held her chin in his big hand making her look him in the eyes.

Her eyes were still huge and shining with tears, “Yes.” It was barely a whisper but he heard it. This made him smile and press his lips to her forehead with a mumbled ‘good kitty’.

He walked back out to the storefront and looked at Spaulding, “Make sure she don’t run. Coming back for her. She’s mine. Try anything funny and uncle or not I’ll gut you.”

Spaulding just laughed and pushed him out the door, “I’m a clown dumbass everything I do is funny. But I guess I’ll watch the thing for ya. Owe me one after this.”

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Marie!

@regicidalheart Your request was for your OC Madeline in the Valicer In The Dark verse, as a young teen out with her dog that the trio had to save from a mugging or the like -- and I was only too happy to comply! XD Here's my favorite crime trio learning all about the local version of Maddie and her doggo Scout -- hope you enjoy!

--

“...thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Alice replied simply, wiping the blood off her blade with a well-stained cloth. “Not like we could just pass by when we saw that wretch attempting to separate you from your purse.”

“Especially after he kicked your dog,” Victor added, scowling. “I hate people who do that.”

The girl – who looked creepily like a younger version of herself, Alice noted – smiled faintly at that, said abused pooch – a solid-looking brown dog with a pointy black snoot – sitting by her side and regarding them cautiously. “I, um, I got that impression after you blasted him into a nearby wall. I’m surprised he got back up after that. I thought for sure the Bell was going to ring.”

“Some people are just blessed with good healing and solid constitutions,” Alice said, examining her own miraculously-unscarred hand and recalling a fire that should have taken it from her. “Not always the ones you want to be, of course, but...”

“That’s up to nature and the gods,” Smiler picked up, favoring their rescuee with a grin. “But enough about that – I’m Smiler, and this is Alice and Victor! We’re the Three Pillars!” They offered their hand. “Who are you, and how are you doing? I hope that arse didn’t hurt you.”

“I’m Madeline – and no, he didn’t have the chance,” the girl said, taking their hand with a touch of trepidation. “Poor Scout’s the only one who got a boot to the side.”

The dog whined, almost on cue. “I see – poor Scout indeed,” Smiler agreed, keeling down and holding out their hand for Scout to sniff. “I’m not an animal doctor, but I do know a few things about bruises – and being kicked,” they added with a faint chuckle. “I could take a look at it for you.”

“Or, if you prefer, we could just walk you back home, then leave you in peace,” Victor added, with a small smile of his own.

Madeline winced, and Scout whined, rubbing his – Alice was pretty sure it was a “him,” anyway – head against her leg. “Uh – that – that would be kind of hard,” she muttered into her collar. “I don’t really have a home anymore.”

“What?” Alice tucked away both cleaning cloth and knife, folding her arms in concern. “Why not?”

“What happened?” Smiler asked, instantly on the alert for unhappiness to squash.

“My father...he...” Madeline sniffled, suddenly looking rather younger than the fifteen years Alice guessed her to be. “I’m – I’m devil-cursed, according to him. I keep hearing things nobody else does, or seeing things that aren’t there...it’s not like I want to, but I can’t make it stop, either! I’ve tried, but it never works! Every time, I slip up and answer a question nobody asked, or – or end up screaming over some Horror that doesn’t actually exist!” Scout licked her hand, and she rubbed the dog’s head. “Father paid all sorts of people to come look at me, but none of them could make it stop either. So he finally said that he wasn’t going to have a child that had a – a demon’s stink all over her and threw me and Scout out.” She let out a watery, humorless laugh. “If that mugger had gotten my purse, he would have been very disappointed. I don’t even have a Coin to my name.”

“Curiouser and curiouser – it seems that your good deed may have netted you a kindred spirit,” Cheshire commented, winding his way around Alice’s ankles.

I think it’s netted all of us one, Alice responded, glancing first at Victor and seeing the memories of a giant house that was never a home written all over his face, then at Smiler and the memories of their wretched bastard of a birth father all over theirs. Which means it’s a very good thing we came down this way. “Well then – I think it’s safe to say your father is a total arse,” she said aloud.

“Oh, definitely,” Smiler nodded, standing up. “You need a friend – and fortunately, I think we’re just the people for the job,” they added, trademark grin turning back on. “Why don’t you stick with us for a bit? We’d be happy to look after you and Scout.”

“We’d feel awful just letting you go off on your own,” Victor agreed. “Not if there was something we could do.”

“I...” Madeline made some faces. “I don’t know...I’m grateful for you getting rid of that mugger, but...”

“But you barely know us,” Alice filled in. “We’re not going to force you to do anything – we’d just like to see you somewhere safe if we can.”

“At least let us get you a proper hot meal,” Smiler wheedled. “We can take you over to the Golden Plum!”

Madeline’s eyes went wide. “The Golden Plum? Isn’t that place expensive?”

“Not when you’ve helped the head chef create one of the dishes of her dreams!” Smiler offered their arm. “Come on – just one meal, and we can work from there.”

“Please?” Victor said, clasping his hands before him.

Madeline squinted at them, then looked at her dog. “Scout?”

Scout circled around them and gave them all a thorough sniff – then barked once, tail wagging. Madeline smiled and took Smiler’s arm. “Okay then – but you have to tell me how you know the chef at the Golden Plum.”

“Sure – it’s a favorite story of mine,” Smiler beamed as the group moved off. “Okay, first off – have you heard of Dragon’s Bane fruit?”

[filmofhybe]

Gingerbread Martini

🗯️ pairing : park jeongseong x oc 💌 Genre : fluff 1089 wc

warning : reader just gone through a break up , drinking

; AUTHORS NOTES : day 3 of “24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe” !! I have nothing to say but I hate school and want Christmas to come faster. I still haven’t got my friends any gifts and is making me go insane. But anyways enjoy!!

Y/n had always been a firm believer in the power of love. She had invested her heart and soul into a three-year relationship with her ex, hoping that it would last a lifetime. However, fate had different plans, and on the first of December, their love story came to an abrupt end. She struggled to cope with the fact she has just lost someone who she trielt thought would be the right person. Finding out he has been talking to multiple girls behind her back, felt like a knife stabbed into her heart. Not only did she felt bad for the girls but the way he had the audacity to blame it on her, because apparently she’s “too boring” for his liking.

Heartbroken and lost, Y/n found herself struggling to move on. Each day felt like an eternity, weighed down by the memories and the void left by her ex's departure. Desperate to numb her pain, she sought solace in the dimly lit corners of a local bar called IVORY BAR.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, Jay, the bar's manager, had been silently observing her from afar since the day she first walked through the door. Jay was a perceptive man; he could see the raw emotions of others at the bar, he could tell everyone’s current situation just by the glimpse of their face. I guess that’s what being a bar manager for a long time does to you - a therapist without actually getting a license. Jay etched on y/n’s beautiful face. the heaviness in her eyes, and the way she clung to her glass as if it were her only lifeline. Chucking down glass after glass of Ocean View, Margaritas, you name it since she stepped inside the humid yet calm bar.

It was on the 25th of December, a night when the world was immersed in the joyous spirit of Christmas, that Jay decided to take a leap of faith. He couldn't bear to see Y/n drown her sorrows any longer. With a mix of nervousness and determination, he took over the current bartender’s spot, making y/n a special Christmas drink.

As Y/n sat alone at the bar, nursing her drink, Jay approached her cautiously. "Excuse me," he said softly, sliding the Gingerbread Martini across the counter. "I thought you might enjoy this. It's on the house."

Y/n glanced up, surprised by the unexpected gesture. Her eyes met Jay's, and in that moment, something inexplicable passed between them. There was a warmth in Jay's gaze, a genuine concern that touched Y/n's wounded heart.

"Thank you," she replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "That's very kind of you." Jay lingered by her side, striking up a conversation that effortlessly flowed between them. “It’s nothing, I’ve been observing you since you came in every night. I can read your face clearly. Break up, can’t move on.” He said as he continues to wipe the delicate glass. Shocking y/n, was she that noticeable?

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be treated like that. Especially being out in the cold during Christmas.” He didn’t want to be rude, yet he didn’t want to not talk to her. This is probably his only chance.

“is honestly nothing I’m just needed a drink, or someone to talk to” Embarrassment creeping up to her cheeks that’s currently red from the amount of drinks she drank. Still sober enough to chuck a few more down.

“No you don’t have to be embarrassed by it. Don’t worry about them. Maybe you should take your mind off from him. Talk to me. Talk about your life to me.” Jay finally made his move, on the girl he has been secretly falling for since she stepped in.

As the night wore on, and the bar gradually emptied, Y/n made a decision that surprised even herself. She couldn't bear the thought of losing this newfound connection with Jay. She longed for the solace he brought, the genuine care that emanated from him. And so, with a mixture of trepidation and hope, she expressed her desire to return to the bar every night, just to see Jay. “You know I’ll probably just come in every night to see you, Jay.” His heart melted at the way she said his name. Feeling butterflies in his stomach after months or maybe even years.

“That would be the best Christmas gift I have ever received.”

“Me? Visiting every night?”

“Yeah, everyone would be happy to see their favorite girl visiting them during their work hours.”

“What a way to keep me coming…”

“Always lovely.”

From that night forward, Y/n became a familiar face at IVORY BAR. Each evening, she would step through the door, her eyes searching for Jay's reassuring presence. And there he would be, behind the bar, ready to listen, to offer a sympathetic ear, and to remind her that she was not alone in her journey of healing. Making her night a little lighter with worries dropped off from her shoulders.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[lamarkeu]

Episode Summary: Myungho is left home alone with his kids for the first time since their youngest was born allowing his wife to go on a much needed break.

Genre: Fluff (and minor angst)

Masterlist for SVTTROS Series

a/n: Mentions of divorce and child custody (TW)

Italics: Narrators Boo Seungkwan (BS) and Lee Minhyuk (LM)

Bold: Staff

Regular: What family member says / what camera films during the show

Listen To: Wonder by Standing Egg

BS: The Return of Superman, Episode 3 “I Think I Love You ” Part 2.

LM: This condo is absolutely breathtaking. The simple black and whites give off the vibe of modern minimalist layout. Once we pull back the floor to ceiling curtains the high ceilings warm up the space by revealing various artwork once hidden in shadow.

The living room is impeccably clean, for a second your daughter, Luna, is shown laying on her stomach adjacent to her younger brother Minho. The two take turns patting away at the foot of a massive teddy bear they received from their uncle Seungkwan.

BM: Ahh! I know who this is.

LM: Really? I haven’t been able to guess because I’ve been so busy admiring the artwork, it looks like Superman is either an art collector or a painter.

The camera captures how the kitchen perfectly overlooks the living room. Such a small detail can make a world of difference when you’re taking care of children. Zooming in closer towards the opened kitchen the audience sees a pair of hands chopping away on the counter top not going past the wrist level.

“What gift should we give Jeongwoo?” a voice asked before transferring the chopped carrots and onions into a bowl.

“Traditionally speaking clothes and Money should be fine. We’re not part of the intermediate family so we can avoid things like gold.” A second lower voice could be heard off screen, the camera capturing him boiling a pot of water.

“Sounds perfect,”she agrees before placing her used knife and cutting board into the sink as she adds, “I’ll stop by the bank on the way home.” She places her apron on a hook inside their pantry door. Dusting off herself from the ingredients she prepared for her husband to cook while she’s gone. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with them?”

“I promise, now go enjoy spending time with your friends. It’s about time you get a break.” A smile of adoration appears on his face before he leans down to give him a kiss just as the cameras pull up to show their face.

BS: Welcome Seventeen’s kind lead dancer and renowned painter Xu Minghao and renowned makeup artist Y/L/N Y/N. Hyung and Noona I missed seeing you!

LM: Myungho! What a sweet husband.

“Hyungsik might stop by, he said Luna left her project that’s due tomorrow at his house.” Y/N continued as she puts on her shoes in the foyer.

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye on the door camera.”

“See you later babies, I love you.” She calls to her kids with warmth in her voice after kissing her husband on the cheek.

Luna is heard yelling from the living room, “Bye mom, I’ll take care of bàba and didi while you’re gone.”

“That’s my girl. I’m so lucky to have you as my daughter.”

“Hello I’m Seo Myungho better known as Xu Minghao. I am one of Seventeen’s artists. I’m also more proudly known as Luna and Mingyue father.”

“Hi. I’m Y/L/N-Park Luna. I’m five years old. I have a baby brother name Ming Yue. I want to become a artist like my bàba.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a professional make up artist by trade and a passionate skincare business owner. Im also the mother of these beautiful babies. Thank you for inviting our family onto this show I’m a huge fan so this is a dream come true.”

How did you meet?

“I was doing some solo promotions while our Korean members were in the military. Originally I had a makeup artist through PLEDIS but she was about to go on maternity leave. I asked around my friends if they knew anyone that would be willing to take a temporary position. Dokyeom’s wife got in contact with me and relayed how great Y/N was.”

“I worked with Dokyeom doing stage makeup for musical theater since he played King Arthur. I got a message from Lee Y/N asking about Myungho and I immediately said yes. We’ve met before in passing and with other people so I took it as an opportunity for a better introduction.”

“She did quite the job helping with my appearance but also helped calm my nerves when I performed on different stages. Without that introduction I don’t think we would’ve found love the way we did.”

When did you realize you wanted to introduce Myungho to Luna?

“It was pretty early on. I was very upfront about having recently gone through a divorce. Being the amazing man he is, Myungho knew Luna was first priority and wasn’t scared of that.”

“If it were up to me I would’ve met her as soon as we started going out together but, I knew how delicate their situation was, especially because they were figuring out the custody arrangements.”

“Ultimately they did meet in person after 2 years. He was amazing at soothing my concerns and ultimately made me realize that he was in this relationship for the long haul.”

“We officially dated after that, got married and had Mingyue this year.”

What has co-parenting been like for you?

“It’s the best thing I could’ve asked for. I’ve always loved the idea of having a kid and Luna really made me enjoy that even more. I love seeing her grow and figure out who she is. At the end of the day on paper she may not be my biological daughter but in my eyes she will always be my little girl. I have Hyungsik Hyung and Y/N to thank for that.”

“Hyungsik and I much to people’s disbelief ended things on good terms. Now that we’re both remarried I hope that people show us respect for our blended family. I can’t speak for him but I know he’s really thankful for Myungho being another amazing father figure in Luna’s life. I’m so thankful that even when disagreements occur that they look past that because of their love for Luna.”

Do you have any messages for our viewers?

“I know netizens have had their misconceptions of who I am and the relationships I’ve had. I don’t blame them I hope through this show however, they’re able to rewrite their perceptions of myself and my family.”

“Y/N is an amazing mother and partner. To see how the media has manipulated this to benefit their own interests has been something we’ve been trying to fight against. I’m so grateful for the support given to us from my members, carats, Y/N’s fans, and our families for being so supportive during this time. Without you guys I don’t think we would’ve had the courage to share our love story to the public. My goal for our time on this show is to heal from the damages inflicted onto us in the past and expose our viewers to our family dynamic. Ultimately if we help even a single person to become open to blended families like ours I can proudly say that we’ve done our job.”

[cybercore-creations]

I just killed my Ex

Summary: Survivor!Danny x Fem!GF!Reader. Song fic based on "Kill Bill" by SZA

TWs: Murder, Stalking, Obsession, toxic relationships

She couldn't stay away. No matter how hard she tried, she still slunk around the survivors camp. Oh, how she wished you could just take him away, keep him all for herself, but unfortunately, kidnapping was not a perk that came with being the entity's favorite. Their blood boiled as he smiled at the blonde standing next to him. That smile should be for her. Her robe flowed in the wind as she turned around, leaving the area.

Of course she started with the mature idea. She spoke with other killers who told her that nothing ever good came from falling in love with Survivors. Nurse knew that best. Of course killers would make passes at eachother. Some strong bonds, other casual hook ups. "There was always other people" Amanda said with her arm around Hunteress. Just like Danny had Kate right now. No. She only wanted him and if she couldn't have him. No one could.

They were swept into the fog on a date. Danny loved nature walks, taking photos of everything. She loved them for scoping out a new base. Then the fog came. Pulling them apart. The entity was a sick bastard. At the beginning, she avoided killing Danny at all costs. When the entity finally threatened punishment, her hand (Well knife) was forced. But with him? No fun quips or a fucked up mori. Just a hook and moved on. He couldn't protect Kate then. That's when she had her fun. She'd rather put herself through the pain of killing Danny to get to the tattooed woman.

Every day, she hoped it was a fling. Danny was always a charmer. Girls practically threw themselves at him. After she found them walking hand and hand together in the woods like they used to do. "I wish I had my camera, you're the perfect model." He laughed. How she tried to spare him pain, but now the rage overcame her. Now, he'll be a victim like the rest. He didn't deserve her kindness anymore.

Danny and Kate were pretty much attached at the hip especially during trials. It made her sick. She wouldn't deny how beautiful Kate was. Shiny golden hair, perfect figure, intricate tattoos littering her skin. She couldn't blame Danny, he always went for the alternative girls. The fog swept over her as the trial began. Pulling up her tablet to see what survivors were playing his name was right on top, Kate's next to him. Now people would consider it fucked up for the entity to do that, but she smiled. Guess The Entity was reading her thoughts, giving her exactly what she wanted. She was ready to have him face down in a basement, snapping a pretty photo of his bloodied face.

Was it petty? Yes. She could have definitely been the bigger person and started treating him like everyone else. A victim, A piece of meat, apart of the game she had to win, but sadism was in her blood, even before the fog. She promised Danny she'd never hurt him when he first learned she was Ghostface, but promises get broken. He must of knew that as he protected Kate with everything he had. Now he was just a toy to torture however she wanted.

The first time she snapped a photo with him as he died, she sent a rush through her. It felt good. She expected it to break her heart like it did when she killed him regularly, but she was smiling this time. Though she still didn't give him the pleasure of hearing her voice. Even with the distortion by the modulator, he didn't deserve it. Easily hooking him up and laughing as the entity took him. In the distance, she watched a familiar woman run for a hatch. "Will this girl ever learn?" she mumbled, chucking her knife at Kate, directly hitting her in the neck. Huh, guess casual axe throwing with Huntress came in handy. As she came back to the camp, the other killers stared at her before Frank spoke up. "Huh, I never expected you to do it." "Love makes you do fucked up things kid." She sighed pulling her mask off. Nurse hugged her "Proud. Strong." She whispered barely speaking.

"What was that?" Claudette looked wide eyed. "Ghostface always goes easy on you Danny, what did you do?" "I'm... not sure?" He said, a bit shaken up with how quickly the behavior of the killer changed. "Well, he came the same time as you. Do you remember anyone it could be?" Dwight asked. Danny shook his head.

"Hey, maybe it's a girl." Nea suggested."No way. there's no way a girl could have killed him like that." Jake cut in."That is so sexist. The killer could easily be female. Basic Instinct." Nea rolled her eyes. "That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same as brutally bashing someone's skull into the concrete after they're dead. Takes a man to do that." Jake argued. "Or a man's mentality." Nea raised her eyebrows.

They didn't notice the killer hiding in the tree. "Huh, he really forgot about me." A slight hurt filled her chest. She KILLED for him before the fog. How could he forget that? How could he forget everything about her? Suddenly, that pain wasn't heartbreaking. It was rage, and it was no longer towards Kate.

All the other survivors were dead. The last hour was a game of Cat and Mouse between. "Oh Danny. Why are you running." She called out, pout in her maculated voice. Danny's hands shook slightly as he worked on the generator. Quietly she creeped next to him. "Boo" She whispered next to his ear. As he got up he attempted to run, only to be shoved to the floor.

"Danny, Danny, Danny" She sighed "What to do with you" She stood over his back. "You know if you would have stayed loyal the entity wouldn't have served you to me on a silver fucking platter" She laughed sitting on his back. "What?" He breathed out. She drove her knife into the back of his back like she'd done many times before but this time was different. She pulled up her mask over her lips and pulled him up by his hair. Her warm breath fanning over his ear. "Smile for the camera sweetheart." Click.

[ghostfaceaddams]

Tara Argh Carpenter - a scream drabble

summary: Tara is having trouble juggling her scars and finding a Halloween costume. Sam, as always, is there for her.

warnings: cussing, scars, mentions of violence. I think that's all?

word count: 1,567

a/n: This lil idea just popped in my head the other day and I shared it with @psychofreakforc who loved it. So this is for her and any other lovers of the Carpenter sisters! Hope you all enjoy.

The doctors told Tara that regaining full sensations in her left hand was slim. 

The doctors also told Tara that she’d always have a limp and metal stuck in her leg because the break was so severe. 

But the doctors had also advised her not to play sports due to her asthma, and she had been the reigning star player on her soccer team for five years straight. 

Surviving seven stabs and a broken leg was impressive enough. Surely these docs were just quacks. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know Tara. No one knew exactly who the Tara Carpenter was except for one single person. 

And that person was her older sister: Samantha Carpenter. 

Sure, Sam had abandoned her five years. But Sam had come back when Tara needed her most and she apologized for her absence. “I’m never going to leave your side again. I promise.” That’s what the older, taller Carpenter had said to the younger, smaller Carpenter. 

Sam had her reasons and her apologies, and the sisters had shared trauma from their boyfriend and girlfriend trying to murder them and their friends. They both had Christina Carpenter as their mother. 

With all of that being said, Tara knew - she knew that there was one person who always believed in her no matter what and that was Sam. Besides, Tara was constantly proving people wrong. She proved Christina wrong when she said she wouldn’t last a week after her birth, she proved all those taller kids wrong at soccer, and she proved Amber wrong. 

Tara knew she wasn’t going to magically heal over night and that some parts would take longer than others. She’d waited five years for Sam to come back to her, she was a patient person. 

But it’s October now, and Halloween is only a week away, and she can’t find a costume for the big party one of the frat houses were going to throw. Every outfit either looked weird on her or clashed too much with her scars. And she still needed that damn cane to walk on, which didn’t match any costume. 

She guessed she could go as an old lady. Old ladies use canes to get around. But Tara’s cane was also special. 

With a cane, you use the hand opposite of the injury. Which is fine and dandy if your ex didn’t snap your right leg in half then shove a knife through your left hand. So, her grip wasn’t the best suffice to say. Google Kerry Weaver from ER and you’ll know exactly the type of cane Tara had. 

She growled as she tossed the cowgirl hat Anika had given her to the floor. Anika and Quinn had suggested a Cowgirl Barbie (Margot Robbie representation!) and Tara figured it was worth a shot. It almost worked. Almost. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” 

Tara glared at the visitor as she eased herself down to her bed. 

Kirby tossed her hands up with her eyebrows in surrender. “Woah. What’s the fuck-the-world glare for?” 

“Maybe this is just my resting face, Kirby.” 

The blonde shaped her lips into an o. She just got called her first name, that meant Tara was in a mood. Kirby said nothing as she left. 

Tara figured that was it - hoped it was, she didn’t have the energy to deal with any bullshit at the moment - but of course it wasn’t.  Barely two seconds later and there Sam was, standing in the doorway with her head innocently cocked to the side. 

“Hey, babygirl. What’s wrong?” 

That was a hilarious remark. Tara almost told Sam she should be a stand up comedian. 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that my body is fucked up and I can’t find a fucking decent Halloween costume to wear! What nineteen-year-old shows up to a party with a legit limp and cane?” She went with that instead. 

Sam didn’t say anything. She just sat down next to her trembling baby sister and cupped the shell of Tara’s tense shoulder blade. 

Tara’s entire body twitched as if she’d been stung. She moved away from her sister with a whiny, “Sammy” but it was no use. Sam saw the way Tara was trembling with rage and knew that soon enough it was going to fester into sobs. 

Sam just rubbed Tara’s back soothingly, easing the younger girl into the crying stage. And when Tara ended the next phase, Sam was there to pull the small girl against her. As Tara curled into Sam’s side to hide away from the world, Sam wrapped her arms around Tara and solidified the wall between Tara and the darkness of the world. 

It wasn’t until Tara’s sobs had receded to shaky breaths that Sam spoke. She made sure to give Tara her spare inhaler so that she could have a clear mind and not a clenched chest to listen to Sam. 

“Tar, your scars-“ 

“Sam, I swear, if you say that my scars are beautiful and I should embrace them, I will throw myself down the stairs.” Tara threatened with a wobbly voice. 

The both of them shared a terse, watery chuckle before silence settled over them. Sam took the moment to admire her baby sister’s side profile. Her eyes picked up on the barely noticeable scar on Tara’s chin. It was just a speck, barely noticeable, but Sam remembered it as the plate Christina had thrown and a shard had nicked Tara. 

It wasn’t bad at all, but Tara had sobbed and sobbed after it happened. Sam cleaned the little girl up and took Tara to her bedroom to read a story to the younger girl until she was calm. 

Sam was always taking care of Tara. Tara wanted to be able to take care of Sam too. 

Tara took another puff from her inhaler, blowing Sam from the past to the present. 

“Your scars don’t have to be a bad thing, Tara. They don’t need to be the focus of you.” 

Tara screwed her face up in bewilderment. She didn’t want any sort of motivational speech about her scars to love them. 

“Sam-“ 

“Come on, what was your favorite episode of Scooby-Doo as a kid?” 

Okay, now Tara was lost. “I don’t know, that was forever ago.” 

“It was the one with the pirate! Remember? What was his name? It had something to do with a beard…” 

Tara shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was actually playing into this. 

“The Ghost of Redbeard.” 

Sam clapped excitedly and gave a slight nudge to Tara. “Pirate Redbeard! Yes!” 

Tara nodded her head, a grin slicing across her lips despite not wanting to. “Yeah, but it was the movie I was obsessed with. Pirates Ahoy!” 

Now it was Sam’s turn to be lost. “They did pirates more than once?” 

Tara laughed at her older sister. 

“Okay, even better then. There’s numerous representation of pirates in Scooby-Doo, and there’s a whole movie series based on pirates.” 

Tara raised her eyebrows. “You mean Pirates of the Caribbean?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

Tara snorted at her sister. 

“Pirates are very common. And what do you think of when you first hear the word pirate?” 

Tara wrinkled her nose up as she shrugged. “I don’t know. Arrrrg matey! Give me yer money!” 

Sam couldn’t contain the laughter from bubbling over at Tara’s (awful) interpretation of a pirate. At first, the younger girl could only blush and shake her head, pouting at her older sister. But then Tara started to grin, and she ended up laughing along with Sam. 

It felt like Sam needed an inhaler this time, she couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed that hard. Or when was the last time Tara laughed that hard. She wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed before continuing. 

“No, but good guess.” 

“A plank?” Tara guessed next. 

Sam shook her head again. The other girl sighed, clearly exasperated. 

“Come on, Sammy. I’m tired of guessing.” 

“A wooden foot and a hook for a hand!” 

Oh. 

Tara stared at her sister, not really knowing what to say to that. 

“It’s your leg you’re most worried about, right? And there’s no way to hide the scar on your hand. So, use it to your advantage! Be a pirate!” 

It was true that boats, jewels slash money, and those replacements were the first thing to come to mind when associating pirates with things. And it was true that, in a way, Tara did have a wooden foot and a hooked hand. 

The third truth was that Tara used to love pirates, only because she’d play it with her friends and Amber would get to save her at the end. She missed having Amber as her hero instead of her villain. 

“Okay. A pirate it is then.” Tara confirmed. 

The squeal that came out next wasn’t from Sam but from Quinn. The Carpenter sisters scoffed with a smile on their faces as the redhead went into a long spiel about helping Tara be the sexiest pirate anyone had ever seen. “Maybe someone has a pirate kink.” Had been said. 

In the end, Tara was still limping and she couldn’t feel everything in her left hand. But she did go to the party and have a good time. That was proving the people who thought her injuries would ruin her life, wrong. 

And Sam was there with a beaming smile on her face. 

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 8

Cw: mentions of violence, murder, sex, nudity, basically same old lol

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark

Autumn 1920

Jack had involved Eva in his business before, but always at home where he could go on to claim it was his genius that led to his success and never his illegal ones.

“No. It wouldn’t benefit us for him to die so soon.” The witch comments after he, his right hand and Wild Bill of the White Hand Gang discuss the best way to deal with the Italians.

They had been offended by the woman sitting on his lap until she showed off her talents by making the glass in Bill Lovett's hand shatter with just her eyes.

She was his secret weapon and while the glass shattering would still have them doubt her ability, they knew better than to try and find out.

Good thing they had come home from his club. If they knew Jack allowed her to speak to him like this, they’d lose their fucking mind.

“Us?” the gangster asked, trailing his hand up her chest, caressing the soft tan skin and wrapping his hand around her neck knowing she cannot stand that. A small payback for when she called him Jackie as she goaded him into chasing her around wearing nothing but his shirt earlier.

He cannot back out of this like that, not after they threatened his family and his life a month ago. Things with Eva had improved, including her as an advisor in these things had given her a purpose beyond pretending to be the perfect American wife.

She had learned business from books, from her family and hired professors to teach her. Eva had also learned strategy during her time in the war, using her gifts to their advantage at every turn. A useful thing when it didn’t contradict him, like now.

No wonder the president and Pancho Villa had gotten tired of her, who wanted a girl telling them what to do. Jack already fights the rumors that he’s gone soft now that he’s a husband and a father.

“Changretta didn’t just come for you, he came for the both of us. If you want to win, you gotta let me play the game with you.” The witch answered masking the discomfort of having his hand on her throat with a sultry breathy tone before dropping it entirely. “Besides, the White Hand made its deal with you through Dinny Meehan not Lovett, Lovett knows you’re a threat to him and will sooner frame the Black Hand for your murder than let you run the Irish Mafia like you intend.”

The Irish of New York had posed less of a threat, choosing to ally with him than fight him. They’d agreed to join in on erasing the Black Hand out of the picture for a cut of the cake.

Especially after Sadie Meehan correctly guessed it was Bill Lovett who orchestrated Dinny’s hit and had him murdered right next to her in their own bed.

Jack would be lying if he didn’t fear his Evie suffering the same fate.

“Then what do you suggest, oh holy Pythia?” Jack didn’t trust Wild Bill nor his brother-in-law anymore as far as he could throw them and this plan to strike the Spinietta Family now that Luca’s back on American soil required a whole lot of trust.

“We wait. Solidify your gangs so when the blessed day happens you won’t even break a sweat or have to watch out for knives in your back.” She moved his hand off her neck and let it wander down the half-buttoned shirt, daring him to divest her of it entirely. Nakedness wasn’t something Eva ever felt bothered by.

Her beauty was as much as a weapon as that diamond encrusted knife she straps on her thigh.

“What did you see?” Jack’s fingers undo the first of the buttons, letting her think she’s won.

She uses sex to manipulate him, doesn’t take a genius to know it.

But he lets her, knows the witch does this to secure some power for herself. She has whatever power he gives her here, where she cannot wave her name or money around to exert her own.

Not yet anyways, the day will come when society will just have to bend its knees and realize how wrong they were to discount him.

Us, the witch’s voice seems to correct him even in his mind.

“Lovett’s getting killed by his brother-in-law in three years and Lonergan will lose the waterfront a year after that, Luca Changretta gets his brains blown out by the man Grace will kill Clive for and New York ripe for the taking that same year.” His wife leaned back on her hands and uncrossed her legs giving him an unobstructed view of herself as the shirt fell open. “I have seen all that and so much more, and if you want it to come true, you have to let me play.”

Jack snaked his arm around her waist as she slotted himself between her long legs cutting off any chances of her bolting when he reminds her what the agreed on.

She’s done it before, when he does something to displease the spoiled goddess she runs off leaving him to use his hand instead of her for release.

“You drive a good bargain, doll. But we agreed, my game my rules.” Not that he won’t take her sage advice, just incorporating it into the plan. “I will keep my plans and take your advice, I will give Changretta a reason to run back to his old man and meet his maker there. Don’t you worry about it, darling.”

March 1921

They’d lost but somehow come out on top.

There’d been some losses in the New York Mob, Luca and his men lived to see another day and yet Jack had gotten the Spinietta Family to call for a truce when he got the last Sabinis in New York to high tail it back to London.

Luca had been given the same treatment he gave Jack six years ago before Jack let him go.

Election night seems to reflect Jack and the White Hand’s offensive on the Spinietta Family.

The Republicans had won the presidency and the gubernatorial race, and yet these cocksuckers had their wives eating out of her hand.

The First Lady had been told about her clairvoyance and Calvin Coolidge had been so impressed about his future as the 30th president of the United States, that the Nelsons were becoming the must know couple in the state, if not the entire region of New England.

Everyone knew who she was, loved her so much they forgot she wasn’t a white woman and now hosts a ball for the man who thinks balls are too frivolous to have.

Jack doesn’t know why taking over society isn’t enough for her.

“Same reason you keep your gang even after no longer needing it, because it’s just not enough.” The witch whispered as they arrived at a charity ball she'd done to replace the President’s Inauguration Ball. “I am so much more than your damnably charming wife, Jack.”

As he remembers with great fondness how he made Luca beg for his life as he taught Eva how to wrap the garrote around his cock and balls, he cannot help but agree. “That you are, doll, that you are.”

The feeling of her silky hand in his as Luca held back his agony was something he’d never thought he’d enjoy so much.

Perhaps, it was a good idea to make her a fellow player in his games for power.

A/N: Dinny Meehan was the leader of the White Hang Gang, a group of Irish gangs in New York who cretaed themselves to fight of the Italian Mob, the Black Hand.

Luca and the black hand family he worked for are fictional so in this fic they take the place of the real gang.

Dinny Meehan was murdered in his home in 1920, his wife Sadie in 1923 told the fbi she believed his right hand Wild Bill Lovett had him murdered, Wild Bill in 1923 was then murdered by the Black Hand in a hit orchestrated by his brother in law Richard 'Pegleg' Lonegran. In 1925 teh White Hand lost their territory to the Black Hand.

Jack is looking into taking New York as he has secured the gangs of Boston just as Tommy sought out London after taking over Birmingham.

William Hardying was president from 1921 to 1923 when he died of a heart attack, he was a republican and succeeded by his vp, Calvin Coolidge who had been the governor of Massachusetts until 1921

[lola-lightwood]

Time for me to post some Aaron Oliver quotes to pass the time till Book 3

SPOILERS for Never a Hero by Vanessa Len below

"I guess you'd changed your mind, because you told me that if I managed to undo the massacre, I could never meet you. I could never trust you. You said..." I won't remember what you mean to me. Joan heard her own voice crack. "You--you said you'd hate me in this new timeline."

Aaron's expression was hard. “Well your fictional me was right about that.”

STOP HE’S SO SASSY. Let's have a moment of silence for Joan’s heart:

"You gave me a brooch just before I left. You found it in a cupboard at the safe house. A brown bird in a cage."

"What?" Aaron sounded truly shocked now...He was staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

Aaron after Joan mentioned his mother's brooch:

"Why do the Nightingales think that you informed on her?" Joan whispered. "I know you didn't."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Aaron said. He sounded wary, but there was a new vulnerable note in his voice as well.

"You just wouldn't. You wouldn't do that. If anyone had informed on her, it would have been--" She cut herself off as the truth finally clicked. "Your father," she said slowly. In response Aaron made a soft sound.

I WANT AN AUDIO RECORDING OF THAT SOFT SOUND. I love that Joan just knows him. And that's huge for a boy that was never seen. Who is constantly discarded and insulted by those who are supposed to love him. Joan to Aaron:

"Your name is Joan, right?

Joan:

It cut with the same knife jab as when Nick had asked for her name.

Aaron's eyes flickered over her face; he'd caught the emotion. His voice gentled. "It's Joan?"

Joan nodded. "Okay, Joan," he said.

"Okay what?" "Okay, I believe you."

Joan's throat felt thick with tears suddenly. She hadn't expected him to say that. Not so quickly.

"You believe we knew each other?" she said.

"I believe everything you said."

me after this scene:

"I missed you," Joan managed. "In this timeline." It came out with so much emotion that Aaron looked surprised.

"Sorry," Joan said. "I know you don't remember me. We just...We went through a lot of things together that no one else did. And I missed you. A lot."

Joan confessing:

Aaron was silent long enough that Joan could feel herself reddening.

It was too much to tell him--that she missed him when he'd barely met her.

"You're right. I don't know you," he said finally. Joan tried not to feel the blunt ache of it. He didn't remember her, and that was just the truth. "I do know, though," Aaron said, his gray eyes serious, "that if I gave you that brooch, I must have--" He hesitated.

"I must have trusted you very much."

What were you gonna say Aaron? what were you going to say?

Let's speculate - I think he was going to say 'cared' so "I must have cared for you very much."

If we're going crazy and if you're a lovesick fool like me then "I must have loved you very much." But that's not realistic, Lauryn.

a girl can only dream.

and that's all for part 1 💜 thanks for reading my current obsession!

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.12 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

“Falsified records,” Tattletale grinned.

I do love just how deep the hypocrisy of "New Wave Means Accountability" actually goes.

“We know this story already,” Glory Girl replied, her tone just a touch testy. Whatever Tattletale was doing, I sensed it was giving us more control over the situation.  I commented, “This is new to me.  I’m sort of intrigued.”

Character: "I know all this already"

Protagonist: "Well, I don't, and the readers need to know, so why not keep going?"

“It’s not the man that would bother her so much.  It’s the knowing.  Every hour of every day after hearing me say his name, she would wonder.  She’s terrified she’ll start second guessing every part of herself, wondering if she inherited it from him, or if she was that way out of an unconscious desire to not be him.  Knowing as much as she does already keeps her awake some nights, but knowing his name, knowing who he is and what he did?  For the rest of her life, she would compare herself to him.  Isn’t that right, Amy?” “Shut up.  Just… shut up,” Panacea retorted, her voice thick with emotion.

Okay, seriously, Tattletale, do you really feel no guilt about this? You aren't actually a soulless monster or anything.

I get I'm just unreasonably partisan towards Amy, but JESUS FUCK I really hate Tattletale for all this. It's just... so fucking cruel.

I saw a flicker of doubt cross Glory Girl’s face.

She's probably thinking about the beating guys into pulp thing.

“Very principled.  Very self-involved too, that you think the secret and the consequences have to do with you and your overzealous nature.  They don’t.  They have to do with her.”  Tattletale directed the laser pointer at Panacea’s forehead, “You won’t be tickled pink, either, but the aftermath would be hers to deal with.  Humiliation, shame, heartbreak.”

And if Lisa did say it and did ruin Amy's life, she'd just go 'Look What You Made Me Do."

Ugh, I don't think I'm ever gonna like Lisa. It's not really reasonable, but who cares. Yes, villain protagonists and all, but like... just the cavalier willingness to just... destroy people.

Fuck you, Tattle-bitch.

Panacea abruptly tore out of my grip, so violently I had to pull the knife away to keep her from cutting her own throat against it.

I wouldn't be surprised if on a very tiny level Amy was like 'if this gets out my life is ruined so if she does cut my throat who cares?' Because she couldn't know that Taylor was going to pull her knife back.

“Nobody fucks with my family!” she shouted, and her power cranked out full-bore.  My knees turned to jelly and my brain just gave up on rational thought. 

That aura really is nucking futs.

“I’m going to pull in every favor I’m owed, and put myself in debt with the local D.A. and whoever else I have to, to get you both sent to the Birdcage,” 

Okay, so... Vicky? What the ABSOLUTE fuck?

A prison without wardens.  No communication with the outside world.  No escapes yet, which is pretty amazing considering it houses all of the worst and most powerful villains we’ve been able to capture.  We don’t even know for sure if anyone’s alive inside there.  It’s just a bucket where we dump scum like you, so we never have to worry about you again.”

oooh! Worldbuilding!

Also, such a wonderful idea for a prison! No issues with a black box like that at all! /s

“And no contact with the outside world means you don’t go fucking talking about whatever Amy wants to keep private.  I trust my sister, I trust she has a reason for keeping it to herself.”

I've said it before - Vicky really was Amy's number one fan, the person who trusted and believed in her the most and nope I'm not crying about what happens between them what Amy does to her, to *them* not at all

“Idiots,” Glory Girl’s muffled voice came from the midst of the cloud of insects, “I’m invincible.” Tattletale used her good arm to prop herself up, groaning, “First of all, I warned you about calling me stupid.  Second, no, you’re not invincible.  Not exactly.”

Does Earth Bet not have an equivalent of the Evil Overlord's List?

Well, probably not, but like - Alexandria Package or not, hero or not, Vicky, Vicky, I love you, but the minute you say 'I'm Invincible' is the minute you get your ass handed to you, you get that right?

“She’s not really invincible.  That’s just an idea she likes to put in people’s heads.  She has a forcefield around her entire body, but it shorts out whenever she takes a good hit, comes back online a few seconds later.  I knew when I saw she had dust on her costume.  Dust that her forcefield would keep off her.  Fuck, this hurts.”

The illusion of perfection, invincibility, flawlessness. Really is a whole package for her.

Another reason to remember Carol sucks as a mom.

The fight outside the bank was still going our way.  Only Aegis was still in action, and he was hemmed in by the three dogs and Regent’s borrowed laser cannon.

What happened in the interval? Because Vicky was implying things were turning the Wards way when she came in. Though that could have just been posturing.

“It was Glory Girl on the roof,”

Glory Girl, on the Roof, With the Aura. That's whodunnit in Clue.

We’d done it.  I’d done it.  We’d escaped without killing anyone.  The only ones who’d really been hurt at all had been the Wards, Glory Girl and Panacea, and that would be fixed when Panacea came to, for sure.  Any property damage had largely been the fault of the Wards and Glory Girl. 

Alec did fire the laser into the building a couple of times, don't forget that. But overall, a fair point. Reminds me of that Powerpuff Girls episode where they move to Citisville and destroy a multimillion dollar bridge to stop bank robbers who had like, a few ten thousand or something.

And how the fuck did that come back to my mind? I was like 7 when I saw that?!

“No injuries or deaths for us, for the heroes or for the bystanders,” she confirmed. “Then it’s a good day,” I said. “A very good day,” she agreed.

A good way to ease Taylor into all this (had there been a major injury or a death, even on the Wards side, I'm not sure Taylor would have been able to rationalize that yet). And ease the readers. Sure, we were warned what this would be, and yet, people still want to root for their MC, so we've got to be eased into it, into villain Taylor.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Would Spider in the games use a bow as his weapon of choice, like in the movie, or an ax, or maybe something else? And what about Kiri's weapons? (If they decided to fight instead of hiding)

So I went back and rewatched Hunger Games last night (and wow did I not appreciate that movie as a kid. I'm so excited to rewatch all the other movies now) so I've got a lot of new ideas for the Hunger Games Avatar A.u.

First I learned from an explainer video that kids aren't actually allowed to train for the Hunger Games. The career tributes get away with it because they're training to be peacekeepers but everyone else is just out of luck. So every character I mentioned training would have to do it in complete secret. So for Spider, since his parents live in victors village and are filthy rich after winning the games, they have a training room in their basement. It's not nearly as fancy as anything from the Capital. In fact Quaritch built most of it himself. And if anyone asks Spider isn't allowed down there. The training room is just for mom and dad. The room is stocked with every weapon under the sun, so Spider would be well versed in any weapon that could be put into the games but yeah he'd prefer a bow over anything. I could also see him with a knife or a spear but I think an ax might be too brutal of a weapon for him.

I think Kiri would also go for a less brutal weapons, bow, knives, those sort of things but really I think she'd get by more like Peeta, and Rue. Making alliances, using the environment to her advantage (I'm thinking of the trackerjackers here, which even though Katniss was the one to cut down the nest it was Rue who gave her the idea) and basically just surviving since they said in the movie that most kids die from exposure, dehydration and starvation.

Also after watching the movie I realized they kinda couldn't just hide the entire time because the gamemakers would push them towards the action. I guess the scene with Katniss and Peeta in the cave just took up way more of memory then it did the actual film. So yeah let me revise hiding to being stealthy, camouflaging themselves to blend with their surroundings, setting traps for career tributes but never going after anyone that's not down with the child murder games. I could even see them setting out food and clean water for less capable tributes.

Bonus thoughts you didn't ask for but I forgot to put in my original post because I was insanely sleep deprived when I wrote it:

In my head like how Katniss was nicknamed the girl on fire, I thought of Paz being nicknamed the spider queen after her arachnid trap won her the games. The Capital is obsessed with the fact that she named her son Spider ( and as I write this I'm realizing she pretty much named her son after herself instead of Quaritch which I kinda love) and low key I bet all the kids would be mini celebrities.

I started watching Catching Fire and in that Haymitch says flat out that the show never ends. That each family would get dragged out every year, there lives constantly watched for entertainment. Which was kinda what I was thinking when I wrote about the quarter quell. The citizens of the Capital would have watched each of these families grown. They would have seen the parents grow from teenagers to adult, probably cheered for them as they had their kids and built "happy" lives (i remember in an explainer video that averaged capital citizens actually didn't like the 75th Hunger Games too much because they had such an attachment to the past victors. Now imagine that, plus you watched their kids grow up, and now you're probably going to watch those kids die. I imagine the emotions of the watchers would be at a fever pitch)

Anyway this was a really long winded way of getting to what I really wanted to say and that is that I had outfit ideas for Spider and Paz's chariot entrance in the quarter quell, lol. They wouldn't be dressed up like trees or lumber jakes like most tributes from district 7, they'd be decked out in opulent spider motifies. I imagine Paz with a spider web vail fixed to her long dark curls by a silver circlet that has one ruby teardrop that hangs in the middle of her forehead, blood red lips, sharp red nails, and a tight black dress. Spider is high key uncomfortable because he can see everyone lusting over his hot mom, and he matches her, like her little spider prince, with an off the shoulder spider web capelet, a spider shaped cravat with a ruby in the center, and fitted black suit (like world war 2 dress uniforms. I couldn't find a better name for it) his hair pulled back tight and tucked into his collar. He fucking hates it and so does his mom but they have to play nice for the cameras soo...

I'll probably get more ideas for this au as I keep watching the movies so if you like this au send me ideas! I've got some thoughts on how to go about an ending now (who gets captured, who dies (though I don't want anyone to die)) but I do want to actually watch Mockingjay so I can fully form these ideas.

[givemeanaccountalready]

Musings on Deep Cover

So, I was fiddling with my ladies of Milgram post, and uh, I started thinking about Kotoko's diss track.

The lyrics transcribed on the Deep Cover video are:

UNDER Doltish 001 Parasite / UNDER Obscene 002 Slut / UNDER Incessant 004 Phony Queen / UNDER Doomed 005 Dissection Pawn / UNDER Concealing 007 Deceiver / UNDER Inept 011 Guard

My favorite is Ninjastic Cheetah's fan edit on YouTube which has these lines:

UNDER A worthless 01 parasite / UNDER A vulgar 02 slut / UNDER A stubborn 04 perjury / UNDER Unsalvageable 05 dissection / UNDER Lying 07 madman / UNDER Unloved 11 prison guard

Again, I love the psychic damage of "unloved" being Es's insult, but that's not the point I want to discuss before I turn in for the night.

Don't get me wrong. I love the diss track. I really do, but if I were Kotoko, I would have gone for the jugular and called out their insecurities when dropping names to emphasize how little I thought of how their justifications:

UNDER Fatal 001 leech / UNDER Lonely 002 little girl / UNDER Whiny 004 usurper / UNDER Short-sighted 005 savior / UNDER Selfish 7 manipulator / UNDER Misguided 011 pretender

Now, as fun as that was, this wasn't just a little aside. In Kotoko's diss track, she doesn't say anything that couldn't have been picked up from listening to voice dramas (if Kotoko did in fact eavesdrop on all the other prisoners' interrogations) or found within the timeline conversations. In their second trial interrogations, Yuno admits to being a sex worker and having an abortion, while Kazui laments the fact that he's lived his entire life as a liar and states that he should have kept lying for Hinako's sake. Shidou agrees with Es that his murders involved his work as a doctor and hints that pressuring families to donate the organs of their brain-dead loved ones wasn't the only murder he's done. I've kind of said it before when I said "Local man discovers empathy," but I think he pushed patients to undergo risky, new surgeries in hopes that it would treat their conditions, and it was only when his wife and two boys were in the hospital that he realized the terror those families felt when their loved ones went under the knife. Haruka admitted to killing things smaller than him to gain his mother's attention and his unhealthy dependence on approval from his "mother" figures is obvious in the second trial. Muu contradicts herself a lot when defending herself from what she perceives to be abuse and preens under the positive attention Haruka gives her. She does seem to think herself above approach like a queen would. With Es? I think it was Kazui who said it best back during the first trial: the only difference between Es and the prisoners are the roles assigned. Undermining their authority and implying they can't do their job is a surefire way to piss off Es. Why do I bring this up?

I think Kotoko may know less than we and Es do.

Mainly because it hasn’t really been explained how the song extraction device works. We know that it pulls memories from an individual’s subconscious and turns them into a musical number. We know that the in-universe explanation for the time gap between trial songs is that it needs to charge between uses. That’s stuff Jackalope told us back in the Welcome to Milgram video. From the voice dramas, we know the general procedure is that a prisoner is called to the interrogation room, Es arrives late as a power move and then interrogates the prisoner until the bell sounds and we can hear machines or something whirring and clanking in the background. Since it’s an audio, we don’t know what the interrogation room looks like before and after the bell tolls, but there seems to be an implication that the room changes and that the prisoners are belted into the chair. I’m not so sure if the chair is real but the first trial voice dramas have me an implication of the prisoners being restrained in some way.

If I had to guess, I would say that the round, bird cage like room we saw in Undercover and Deep Cover is the interrogation room. That would explain what the circular room on the map is (not the one with the numbered cells, the one opposite of that). Undercover implies that the song extraction device opens up to work, but we’re not told or shown how it pulls memories or how it depicts the music video. Es and the prisoner may very well be “asleep” while this process plays out mentally. Or it is projected somewhere within the interrogation room while the prisoner is “asleep” since none of them seem to remember what happens after the bell rings.

I have a thousand questions on how this device works. The only important one is how are the songs shown to Es, because if Kotoko knew exactly what some of the first trial Innocent prisoners had shown in their videos (namely, Haruka strangling his younger self and clearly bludgeoning something to death with a bloody rock, and Muu stabbing Rei), she most likely would have judged Es’s verdicts as faulty and attacked the prisoners based on how she views the crimes rather than relying on Es's verdict. I say this with confidence, because Kotoko has made it clear that her vigilante actives, both in Milgram and before, are a way for her to inflict punishment that others (namely the justice system) won’t dole out to the guilty. She has no problem with skirting the system to do that.

But, if the songs are only shown to Es and Es alone through some kind of mental link, then Kotoko is forced to take Es’s word on what they (and we, the audience) saw. Deep Cover made it clear that Es's refusal to condemn more prisoners is what ticked Kotoko off, since she sees mercy and compassion as weaknesses to be eliminated. Kotoko actually showed a remarkable amount of restraint when trying to sway Es back to her side. It wasn't until Es stood up to Kotoko that she lost her composure.

It also would partially explain why some say that Deep Cover is Kotoko’s musical version of a resume for the warden position. If there is stuff that Es knows that she isn’t privy to because of their warden position, then she needs to obtain either the warden status or an official deputy position to get that information to further influence how Es votes. If she is proving her worth to Es and Milgram, why wouldn’t her subconscious show her desire to be in control the way Es is?

[tiredflowercrown]

sharp like a knife (under the table)

I'll reblog some information in a second. It has been much too long since she's been spoken about. And it certainly wasn't like this.

It was common knowledge in Lanying’s family that the Huns had a spy. There was simply too much that they knew, too many weaknesses they had perfectly hurt.

The issue then became where was the spy now. Her mother doubted the spy had been caught and taken to the Isle with the rest of the Huns, what's the point of a spy if they are stuck with the same information as everyone else. But then where did they go? What information are they storing, waiting for the return of their people?

She pushed the thoughts out of her head. There wasn’t any room for distraction, not when she was visiting the Isle.

Lanying had been called in for an assessment of what Mal had called the Crimson Army which was essentially an alliance between the Huns and the Queen of Hearts. A most dangerous alliance. Ben would’ve preferred her brother but considering Xiaobo was gathering intelligence through the veneer of a tour that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“Lonnie. I know you went to the Isle before to get Ben back, but this is gonna be different. We are dealing with the people no one wants to anger on the Isle.”

“I get it Mal. I’m gonna be fine. I know how to handle tough people.”

Mal stared at her, long and hard, analyzing whether she had made the right choice trusting her. That choice was still unknown. But the Empire needed to know if they were still a threat.

Mal guided them through the street, taking the to a run down building with all sorts of symbols drawn or etched into the walls. A neutral meeting place if she had to guess. Walking through the halls it was clear this place had seen a few fights, deep scratches in the walls and barely patched holes. Mal stopped in front of a door, giving both her and Ben a stern look, as if reminding them what they needed to know.

Lonnie didn’t need the reminder.

Inside was a long meeting table, scratches and stab wounds covering the wood, and a lone girl sitting at the head, waiting for them. She was short, long black hair pulled slightly back, chinese descent, with a scar maring down her left cheek. It was bold for her to be alone, showed confidence, she knew she wouldn’t be touched. Or perhaps she wasn’t alone. Glancing up, Lanying saw a figure in the rafters, barely visible, only a dash of crimson could be seen in the dim lighting.

“I see the little snake has deigned herself worthy of stepping back on the Isle. And to set up a meeting with me. What do you want with the army?”

“Always a pleasure, Huang. Straight to business as usual.”

“I have an army to help run. I don’t need to sit and chat about irrelevant nonsense.”

She was remaining strong, knowing the importance of being here. Otherwise she would have sent someone else in her stead. Interesting.

“I’m sure you know who King Ben is but let me introduce you to Lonnie Li. Mulan’s–”

“What’s your real name, little Li”

“Li Lanying,” She studied the face of the other, determining her position. “General.”

Mal glanced at her, unaware that she had any other name. Foolish of her really.

Huang hummed, before gesturing for them to continue.

“As you may know, we are getting people off the Isle. Did you have anyone you wanted to send?”

“It’s a package deal. All or none of us. We aren’t that foolish.”

“So this meeting was useless.”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting. You already knew what my answer was going to be.”

“Well thanks for wasting our time.” Mal threw the door open and rushed out of the room, Ben quickly following after her.

“There’s the Mal I’m familiar with. I hope this was informative to you, Lanying.”

“It was. It certainly was, Huang.” She let her mask drop, not being Auradon’s Lonnie for a second, but being her parents' child. The warrior she was raised to be.

Turning, Lanying left the room, but not far. The rafter hider was sure to come down once she left. And right she was.

“She was doing threat assessment.”

“I wonder what she found. Stick to the shadows Anhe, we don’t need the Facliler’s getting the wrong idea about their ‘Lilianne’.”

“I’ll see them leave. No use wasting such an opportunity. I’ll see you at home to debrief. Baba will need to hear about this.”

Lonnie quickly left, moving silently as she was taught many years ago. No need to get caught after finding out as much as she did. Meeting back up with the couple at the door, Ben was calming Mal down.

“She was rilling you up on purpose, don’t let it get to you, Mal.”

“She’s just a bitch. Why would she agree when she hates wasting time? It doesn’t make sense. Smug little bitch thinks shes everything because she runs the biggest force on the Isle.”

Maybe because she did get something out of the meeting. Information about the King and how Auradon is run.

“She’s Shan Yu’s daughter. She didn’t even earn her position, just inherited it from dear old daddy. Whatever lets just go, you two.”

Lanying doubted that Huang didn’t earn it. Nothing was given for free, certainly not military titles. She mulled over the information she had gotten as they made their way back to the car. It was only as she was getting in did she see a flash of crimson along a rooftop.

Shan Anhe was certainly good at her job.