#we both have bees in our heads :3

[busybussinbee]

there are BEES in my HEAD /ref

When you finally find out about your ADHD.

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 3

Part 2 | Masterpost

"You know your way around the city." Dan commented, eyes narrowed once he realizes that Kitty and Johnny adapted a little too well to Gotham. Going to places even he didn't know existed, exploring and giving them intel he never realized was relevant. They knew history of Gotham in a way a local would. 

Johnny shrugged, turning back to Kitty who welcomed Ember with a bright smile. The two were squealing, talking about how they were going to help mess with Firefly after burning down a well-loved studio down town. 

For Dan, he wasn't going to intrude too much on his former rogues but... "You're from Gotham. Both of you." 

Johnny twitched, watching as Shadow moved to play with Elle in the air. 

"Yeah, we’re not too sure if our folks are still kickin’, but Kitty and me took off after they flipped over our thing. This place still gives me the heebie-jeebies, but hey, you guys are here. Gotham’s cool these days with all the furries and rogues runnin’ around." Johnny laughed, his cocky nature still burning bright, even when he looked almost melancholic at the memory of this place. 

No ghost was truly comfortable in their hometown, whether they died there or not. This was where they were born, where their lives began. 

"I see..." Dan mumbled, glancing to the space where Danny was usually in. His younger brother was off doing kingly duties again, slumped by work and the Observants pestering him about shit. 

There's a quiet knock on his door and Jeremy was poking his head into the room again. The ghosts didn't even care, continuing to be visible and floating around. Discomfort and a bit of fear was clear on the man's face but he turned to Dante with as much courage as he could muster. 

"Boss, we've got a lead on the missing kids." 

Ah, yes. The recent disappearances of children. He doesn't know where they go, what happens to them. All he knows is that children were picked of the streets and never to be seen again. 

"Someone's been takin' kids?" Kitty grimaced, not minding how Jeremy shuddered. "Dan, dear, darling! Send me and Johnny. We know this city better than Batman and his little birdies."

Again, Dan sighed. "Gimme a minute, Kitty. Not enough information." He grunts, turning to Jeremy to hand him the report. 

"Anything else?"

"Well... About the Bats..."

"They snoopin' around again?" 

"Trynna sniff out Phantom." Jeremy shrugs. "Red Hood's been pretty active. Heard he's been wonderin' about Phantom not visitin' the kids last week." 

"Thanks Jeremy. Tell Marigold I said hi." 

"Will do, boss!" 

Once Jeremy left, the other ghosts were swarming Dan like bees. Their eyes glittering with anticipation, excitement, and vengeance. It felt strange for them to pay attention, to follow him. Danny's always felt like the better leader, struggling and suffering in the role yet rising above it all. That was why he was the king now. 

"Alright, let's get to work. Most of these kids have one thing in common. Their skills. Flexible, acrobatic, and have some sort of combat training. Usually in self defence." Dan plugged in the USB into his laptop, projecting the screen on to the tv. "The latest disappearance is Layla Smithson. Fourteen. Gymnast and was sent to take taekwondo classes by her parents. Before that was Evan Chavez. Another gymnast but was also known to get into multiple fights."

"So whoever is takin' the kiddies, they go after the ones with pretty good skills." Ember hummed, turning to Kitty and then nudging her. "You've got anything to say about that?" 

"Well... Maybe." Johnny shrugs too. 

"Ooh! What about that nursery rhyme every Gothamites gets to listen. Y'know. About the court."

Dan frowned. "What court?" 

"The court of owls!" Kitty grinned, "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head." 

"Who the fuck uses that kind of shit for a nursery rhyme?" Dan scowled, but considered the possibility. "Any idea if they're real."

"Very." Johnny warned, "When Kitty and I died, we came back here a couple of times. Explored the place and tried to dig up secrets that would have killed us if we were livin'. One of 'em was the court. A secret society of a bunch off rich bastards."

"Johnny," Dan warned, knowing that something was still being kept from him. 

"There's another thing..." Johnny hesitated but Kitty took his hand and continued. 

Kitty grimaced, "The Court of Owls has a bunch of soldiers. They got this chemical they use on people, turnin’ ‘em into their own assassins. From what me and Johnny dug up a while back, these assassins were trained when they were kids. They call 'em Talons."

Dan wanted to yell, scream. Burn down the cursed with it's cursed bricks. Fuck. Fuck. Was the world always so shitty? 

"You're telling me... There's an entire secret society that uses chemicals to turn children into assassins?" 

Children.... Fucking children. They were weaponizing kids!

Ancients, he might just commit mass genocide again. 

"Alright. Alright. We leave the living people out of this. The court? Their talons? I want all of you prepared. I'm gonna contact Danny to drag Skulker and Wulf's asses here immediately."

Elle grinned, "GRAB AMORPHO TOO! We're gonna need his help if we want to dismantle the court."

The office is vacated quickly, with Elle dragging Ember and Kitty for girl time and Johnny runs off with shadow. Dan is left alone, frustrated at the new information before he does his best to summon his brother, the very annoyed ghost king that appears before him in full royal regalia. 

"A bit busy, Dan. Still tryin' to fight the laughing magician to help with getting rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Constantine is running around trying to destroy the GIW now." 

Dan snorted. He knew about John Constantine. The crazy motherfucker who's soul fragments were scattered around and Danny had to deal with the paperwork and mission to collect them all. 

"I know, yeah, sorry. I get that's important. But we've got a situation here."

"What would that be?"

"Secret society of rich fruitloops that are worse than Vlad. They're kidnapping children and making them into brainless assassins."

Immediately, the room grows colder than the far frozen. Danny's eyes are as green as they could ever be, but his pupils were an icy blue that would have made Frostbite shudder. 

"What do you need?"

"Skulker, Wulf, and Amorpho." 

"I'll send them on your way. They'll be here within 3 hours." Danny sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'll finish up things on my end to help."

"Sure thing, twerp."

"Fuck you." Fondly. 

"Fuck you too." Affectionately.

"OH! Your revenant was looking for you." 

"THE SEXY RED HOOD WAS LOOKING FOR ME?!" 

It was an entire week of silence. Of Wraith not doing anything at all. Even the rogues felt apprehensive to act on anything after Wraith's new subordinates started popping up to pester them. The reports were the same. Distorted footage, meta-human abilities, and a ridiculous amount of chaos. 

Apparently, Two face has waged war on one of them, named Ember. Riddler was also ready to throw hands with Specter. And then Harley and Ivy were hunting down a couple names Kitty and Johnny 13. Why they were named that, none of them knew. But considering Wraith and Phantom's titles, the entire group was Ghost themed. The majority of Gotham have taken to calling them the Ghosts. 

But then...

"Bruce... Get a look at this." Barbara's voice shook, horrified as she stared at the screen. Majority of the family was already in the cave, preparing to patrol once more. But their eyes were drawn to the screen. They all froze, struggling to fathom what the fuck was it they were looking. 

"Holy shit." 

Everyone was frozen, staring at the clear, untampered screen. 

Bruce sucked in a deep breath, reading the bloody message written on the wall of... He couldn't recognize it properly. "Farewell to the Court of Owls that once watched from their shadowy perch. Their talons covered in the blood of children they once purge. Farewell to their judge, the parliament says goodbye. To Talons, to owls, the ghosts says hi." 

And right beside the message was the hanging body of what Bruce recognized was the Judge of the Court of Owls. 

The Court of was in ruins. 

"Holy shit. HOLY SHIT!" Tim screeched, almost stumbling as he stared at the morbid message. "The Wraith and his ghosts took out the fucking court."

There was a loud rev of an engine, momentarily dragging their attention to Jason who was hurriedly getting of his bike and taking of his helmet. "Fuck, you've already seen it."

"You saw it in real life?! Where the fuck is that? The location is distorted but the entire thing is being broadcasted to the entirety of Gotham." 

"There are two of 'em. That one's on the clocktower."

Barbara snapped her head towards him, "MY clocktower?!" 

"Sorry 'bour that Barbie. But it got the job done for them, all of Gotham know about the court now."

Bruce grimaced, "And the other location?" 

"Arkham... The Talon is the one being hanged up there. The message is shorter: Bye-Bye owls. Shouldn't have messed with the dead." Jason clicked his tongue, "That's either about the fact that the court has been messing with the dead or it's cause Wraith's group is called the Ghosts." 

Jason shook his head, knowing for the fact that he'd have to track down Phantom soon. His eyes turned towards Dick, who stared at the screen as if a burden was just freed from him. Jason thinks it has. 

They had found out about the Court a little while ago, then found out about Dick's situation with them. How the circus he grew up in was one of the facilities that groomed Talons. How Dick was supposed to be recruited as one when his parents died. 

"Dick?" Jason murmured, gently taking Dick's hand. The other man jolted, his domino mask hiding whatever emotions there was in his eyes. 

"Little Wing..." 

"C'mon. Let's go grab some of Alfred's cookies. The rest of the family can deal with this." Jason quickly hurried his older brother out the cave, urging him to change our of his suit. 

Dick, once again, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, struggled to understand that his nightmare that was the Court was finally dead. Most likely slaughtered by the hands of a new crime lord, a rogue that seemed desperate to keep children safe. He held the tea tightly, closing his eyes as Jason sat opposite to him. 

The court was dead. 

Talon was dead. 

"I'm gonna go look for Phantom in a bit." Jason hummed, trying to appear comforting to Dick. 

And the image of the Judge of the court's body hanging from the clocktower flashes in his head again. 

"Jason." Dick whispered, "Get me a meeting with Wraith."

"What?" Jason blinked, "Dickie, no. Wraith might seem like a pretty nice guy with how he's protecting the kids, but he's still..." He paused, "He's still like me." 

"I need to meet him, Jaybird. I need to confirm that the Court is gone for good. He's the only one who can do that for me." 

"Why would Phantom even let you meet him?"

Dick frowned, sucking in a deep breath before taking Jason's hands. 

"Tell him that Nightwing was supposed to be a Talon."

Part 4 | Masterpost

[orangeblossomsintheair]

LIONHEART (3/3) — LN4

summary : leo grows up and starts to resemble his dad more and more

wc : 6k

an : the end of the lionheart series! super happy i got this done before ‘25! will probably focus more on smau’s (which i don’t know how to make still) and smut fics! send in ur requests if any :p

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, just bright enough to make the room feel warm and cozy.

You were lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, but the muffled sounds of little feet padding around the house gave away the fact that Leo and Lando were up to something.

The occasional giggle and the faint sound of a door creaking were enough to make you smile.

Then, suddenly, the bedroom door burst open, and in came Leo, his tiny arms struggling to hold onto a bouquet of flowers that were nearly bigger than him.

He was trying to be sneaky, but the excitement in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t succeeding.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mama!” he shouted in his sweetest little voice, his face lighting up with pride as he approached the bed. He climbed up, his movements a bit clumsy as he tried to balance the flowers.

You opened one eye, pretending to wake up. “What’s this? A surprise?”

“Yup! I got you flowers!” Leo said, holding them up with the utmost seriousness.

The bouquet was a haphazard mix of roses, daisies, and a couple of wilting tulips that Leo had clearly picked with the help of his dad.

You sat up slowly, smiling warmly. “You did, huh?”

Just then, Lando appeared in the doorway, holding a slightly more organized bouquet.

He gave you a playful wink before stepping inside. “Alright, Leo. Let’s not overwhelm your mom with too many flowers,” he teased, making his way over to the bedside table and carefully setting his own bouquet down.

Leo puffed out his chest proudly. “I told Daddy we needed all the flowers for you, Mama!”

Lando raised a brow. “And I’m sure our garden looks... great now,” he said with a grin, clearly not regretting the decision at all.

Leo gasped in mock outrage. “But you said more flowers means more love, Daddy!”

“And I stand by that,” Lando said, ruffling Leo’s hair. “But maybe we should leave a few for the bees next time, yeah?”

You chuckled, hugging Leo to your chest. “These are perfect, you two. Thank you, my little flower thieves.”

Leo’s eyes lit up at your praise. “You like them, Mama?”

“I love them.” You kissed the top of his head, then glanced at Lando, who was clearly trying not to look too proud of himself. “And I love you, too. You both are the best.”

Lando leaned against the bed frame, crossing his arms. “Well, we did have to outdo ourselves this year. Last year’s breakfast was a disaster.”

You laughed, remembering the chaos of pancakes that ended up on the ceiling and jam everywhere. “I think it was memorable,” you teased. “But I appreciate the effort this year.”

Leo nodded vigorously. “Yeah! We worked so hard!” He held up a sticky hand for a high five. “I helped, Mama!”

You high-fived him, giggling. “I can see that. You’ve got flower arranging down to a party, baby.”

Lando sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at the two of you. “I’d say this is a good start to the day. But don’t get too comfortable, love. I’ve got even bigger plans for you.”

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s next? More flowers?”

“Nope,” Lando said, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Something better.” He glanced at Leo. “But that’s a secret for later, buddy.”

Leo furrowed his brows in confusion but nodded seriously, as if he was in on the plan. “We’re gonna make Mama happy!”

You smiled, your heart full as you hugged Leo a little tighter. “You already have.”

After a moment, Leo squirmed out of your arms and clumsily hopped off the bed. He looked up at Lando, eyes wide with curiosity. “What’s next, Daddy? Do we get her more flowers?”

Lando laughed. “Not this time, buddy. Now we get to spoil her a little more. But first, let’s go make sure we don’t burn the kitchen down with breakfast.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as Leo’s face lit up again. “Breakfast!” he exclaimed, already running out the door.

You turned to Lando, still half-laughing, and shook your head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m lucky you love me,” he replied, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “And that’s why I’m going all out today.”

The day unfolded in a series of sweet, chaotic moments.

Leo heavily insisted on helping Lando make you breakfast, which resulted in a kitchen that looked like a tornado had passed through (you made sure to call the cleaner afterwards and ask if she could make a quick stop to your place.)

You were treated to toast with an absurd amount of jam and slightly lopsided scones, served with an enthusiastic “Ta-da!” from Leo.

By late afternoon, you thought the day couldn’t get any better- until Lando gave you a sly smile and told you to go get dressed.

“Why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“You’ll see,” Lando said, giving you a soft kiss as he grabbed his jacket. “Just trust me. Oh, and wear something fancy tonight.”

“Fancy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

He smirked but didn’t answer, calling over his shoulder, “Leo, remember, do not tell Mama!”

Leo, who had been sitting on the couch swinging his legs, immediately turned to you with wide, excited eyes. “It’s a secret! But you’re gonna look so pretty, Mama!”

You smiled, ruffling his curls. “Oh, am I now?”

Lando groaned from the doorway. “Leo, mate, you’ve gotta stop giving her hints.”

Leo looked confused. “But I didn’t say anything, Daddy!”

By the time you emerged from the bedroom later that evening, Lando and Leo were waiting for you, and the sight made you pause.

Lando was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that made him look stupidly handsome, but what really melted your heart was Leo, standing beside him in a matching tiny version.

His bow tie was slightly askew, and his shiny shoes looked about one step away from being scuffed, but he was absolutely beaming.

“Ta-da!” Lando said, gesturing to Leo with a proud grin. “Look at this little charmer.”

Leo threw his arms in the air. “We’re taking you to dinner, Mama! Daddy said it’s a special night!”

You crouched down to adjust Leo’s bow tie, fighting a smile. “Well, you look very handsome. Both of you.”

“What about me?” Lando asked, tilting his head dramatically. “Do I not get any extra credit for coordinating this masterpiece?”

“You did okay,” you teased, stepping closer to straighten his tie.

“Okay?” he repeated, pretending to look wounded. “Wow. Alright, Leo, looks like I’ll be splitting dessert with you tonight.”

Leo gasped, wide-eyed. “But dessert is for Mama!”

You laughed, scooping Leo up into your arms. “See? Someone knows how to treat me right.”

The car ride to the restaurant was filled with Leo’s chatter, his excitement bubbling over. “What kind of food will they have? Do I have to eat vegetables? Do fancy places have spaghetti?”

“They definitely have spaghetti,” Lando assured him. “But you’ve gotta promise to sit like a proper gentleman, alright?”

Leo nodded seriously, then immediately asked, “Can I have dessert first?”

“No,” you and Lando said in unison, and Leo giggled.

When you arrived, the restaurant was warm and elegant, with soft golden lights casting a cozy glow. The host smiled as he led you to a corner table, and Leo was wide-eyed as he took it all in.

“Wow,” he whispered loudly. “This place is so shiny!”

As soon as you sat down, Leo leaned over to look at the menu in your hands. “What’s that, Mama? And that? Can I eat that?”

“That’s the wine list,” you said, laughing.

“I’ll take a water for him,” Lando chimed in, winking at you. “And maybe something stronger for us?”

Dinner was a mix of clumsy attempts at etiquette and pure laughter. Leo tried his best to use the small fork, copying the way Lando cut his food, though he ultimately gave up and just grabbed his spaghetti with his hands.

“Leo, buddy, we talked about the fork,” Lando reminded him, trying not to laugh as Leo looked up with sauce smeared across his cheek.

“It’s faster this way,” Leo reasoned, shoving another noodle in his mouth.

“Can’t argue with efficiency,” you said, hiding a smile behind your glass.

When dessert arrived, a perfectly plated slice of cake, Leo’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning.

“CAKE!” he shouted, earning a few amused glances from other diners.

“Inside voice, mate,” Lando reminded him, though his grin betrayed any seriousness.

Leo grinned up at you both, his face messy but full of joy. “This is the best day ever!”

Lando leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking between you and Leo. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

By the time you left, Leo was fast asleep in Lando’s arms, his little suit slightly rumpled and his curls sticking up in every direction.

“You know,” Lando said softly as he looked down at your son, “I think he might’ve enjoyed tonight even more than you did.”

“Hard to say,” you replied, slipping your hand into his. “But I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

He smiled at you, his voice low and full of warmth. “Happy Mother’s Day, love.”

—

At three years old, Leo was already a miniature version of his dad. His unruly curls were always falling into his aquamarine eyes, and his energy was boundless, much to your amusement and occasional exhaustion.

But nothing captured his attention more than cars, thanks to Lando.

It started innocently enough, little toy cars zooming across the living room floor as Lando explained the basics of racing.

But soon, it escalated into full-blown lessons.

“Alright, mate,” Lando said one afternoon, crouching beside Leo on the carpet. “This is the apex. You’ve got to hit this corner just right, okay? That’s how you win.”

Leo, clutching a bright orange toy car, furrowed his tiny brows in concentration. “Apex?” he repeated, his voice high and curious.

“That’s right! Apex,” Lando nodded seriously, pointing at the curve he’d drawn on a piece of paper taped to the floor. “It’s the fastest way around the track.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying not to laugh as you watched the scene unfold.

“Lando, he’s three,” you reminded him, though there was no real criticism in your tone. “Maybe just let him play with the cars?”

Lando glanced at you with mock seriousness. “This is education. He’s got to start early if he’s going to beat Max’s kid one day.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your amusement. “Pretty sure Max’s kid isn’t doing apex drills.”

“That’s where we’ve got the edge,” Lando said, grinning as he turned back to Leo. “Alright, mate, show me how you take this corner.”

Leo made a concentrated “vroom-vroom” sound as he rolled the car along the paper track, his little tongue poking out in determination.

He stopped abruptly at the apex, looking up at Lando expectantly.

“Did I win?” Leo asked, his wide eyes searching Lando’s face.

Lando gasped dramatically, throwing his arms in the air. “You nailed it! Perfect line, Leo! You’re a natural!”

Leo beamed, giggling as Lando scooped him up and spun him around. “I win! I win!”

“You sure did, buddy,” Lando said, setting him back down. “Now, let’s work on your pit stops.”

“Pit stops?” Leo’s eyes lit up as he repeated the phrase.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. “Love, you’re going to scare off all his preschool friends with this level of detail.”

Lando shrugged, clearly unfazed. “They’ll thank me when he’s leading the championship.”

Leo clutched his toy car tightly, turning to you with a big, proud grin. “Mama, I go fast like Daddy!”

You walked over, crouching down to ruffle his curls. “You sure do, baby. Just remember, you’re not allowed to go faster than me.”

Leo giggled, throwing his arms around your neck. “Okay, Mama. I go slow for you.”

Lando smirked, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “See? He’s already better at strategy than half the grid.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately but couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest.

Watching Lando share his passion with Leo, even at such a young age, was something special. And as Leo zoomed off to “practice” more, you knew these moments would be the ones he’d carry with him forever, whether he ended up racing or not.

—

Lando wheeled the tiny, bright orange e-kart into the backyard, the sun glinting off its glossy finish. Leo stood frozen for a moment, his wide aquamarine eyes locked on the kart, before letting out a high-pitched squeal.

“IS THAT FOR ME?” he shouted, bouncing on his toes.

“All yours, buddy,” Lando said, crouching down to Leo’s level with a proud grin. “What do you think?”

“I THINK I’M GONNA DRIVE IT!” Leo yelled, already making a mad dash toward the kart.

“Whoa, hold up!” Lando intercepted him, scooping him up mid-sprint. “Not so fast, mate. Helmet first.”

Leo pouted dramatically, his little arms flailing. “Noooo, Daddy, I’m ready! I don’t need it!”

“You’re three, Leo. You also think ketchup is a vegetable,” Lando replied, grabbing the kid-sized helmet. “Safety first. It’s the rules.”

Leo groaned, reluctantly letting his dad plop the helmet on his head. “But I’m the driver!”

“And I’m the team principal,” Lando quipped, trying to fasten the strap while Leo squirmed.

From the patio, Carlos leaned against the railing, sipping a drink. “Struggling already? Maybe he’s not a McLaren driver after all.”

“Don’t start,” Lando shot back without looking up, finally managing to secure the strap. “We’re not painting it red, Carlos.”

Carlos smirked. “Give it time. The kid’s got Ferrari vibes.”

Lando froze, narrowing his eyes. “Carlos, I will physically fight you right now.”

Cisca clapped her hands together, her phone aimed squarely at the scene. “Oh, he looks so precious in that helmet!”

Leo, now equipped and ready, bolted back toward the kart. “I’m driving!”

“Wait!” Lando jogged after him, grabbing the kart’s handlebars before Leo could press the pedal. “You gotta listen to the rules first, mate. No crashing into the flowerbeds, no hitting Grandpa—”

“I’m fast, Daddy!” Leo interrupted, his little hands gripping the steering wheel. “I don’t need rules!”

Lando groaned, wrangling Leo, who was squirming like a very determined eel. “Hold still, buddy, or you’ll be driving with this thing on backwards.”

“Let him drive backwards,” Max chimed in from the grass, phone in hand. “Might still beat you on the track, mate.”

Lando shot him a mock glare. “Thanks, Max. Really helpful.”

Carlos leaned closer to Lando’s dad. “You know, we could train him young at Ferrari. Get him on the right team.”

Adam chuckled. “Careful, Carlos. He might grow up and beat you in a race.”

Lando smirked, finally letting go of the kart. “Alright, Leo, show us what you’ve got.”

Leo slammed his foot on the throttle, the kart buzzing to life as it lurched forward. His face lit up with pure joy. “I’M DRIVING!”

“You’re doing great, mate!” Lando called, jogging alongside him.

Carlos cupped his hands around his mouth. “Leo! When you’re ready to upgrade, call Uncle Carlos!”

Leo didn’t even glance back. “NO! MCLAREN!” he shouted, giggling as he made a wobbly circle around the yard.

Lando threw his arms up in triumph. “That’s my boy!”

Max wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “Okay, okay, I admit it. This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Leo slowed to a stop in front of you, grinning ear to ear. “Mama! Did I win?”

You bent down, smoothing his curls. “You always win, sweetheart.”

Carlos leaned closer to Max, feigning seriousness. “Ferrari mentality right there. Always thinking about the podium.”

Lando turned to them, pointing a finger. “I swear, one more Ferrari joke-”

Leo, oblivious to the banter, yawned loudly. “Can I drive more tomorrow, Daddy?”

Lando crouched down, ruffling his hair. “Of course, mate. But only if you promise me one thing.”

Leo’s eyes lit up. “What?”

“No letting Uncle Carlos paint anything red.”

Leo looked confused but nodded solemnly. “Okay, Daddy.”

Carlos raised his glass. “We’ll see.”

Lando groaned, burying his face in his hands as everyone laughed. “This is my life now.”

—

It started innocently enough.

One morning, around 5:15 a.m., Leo padded into the bedroom, his tiny race car pajamas rustling as he climbed onto Lando’s side of the bed.

“Daddy,” he whispered, his voice as loud as only a four-year-old could manage while trying to be “quiet.”

Lando groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow. “Leo, it’s still dark outside. Go back to bed.”

Leo shook his shoulder insistently. “But Daddy, I need to practice! You said practice makes perfect!”

“I meant during normal human hours,” Lando mumbled.

Leo, undeterred, climbed onto Lando’s back, bouncing slightly.

“C’mon, Daddy! I gotta beat Uncle Carlos! He said Ferrari’s faster, but you said McLaren’s the best!”

At that, Lando opened one eye, grumbling as he turned over to face his determined son. “Leo, you’re four. You’ve got, like, ten years before you have to prove anything to Uncle Carlos.”

“But if I wait, I won’t be fast enough!” Leo argued, crossing his arms.

From your side of the bed, you stifled a laugh, watching the two of them negotiate like seasoned diplomats. “He’s got a point,” you teased, peeking out from under the blanket.

“Not helping, love,” Lando muttered before sighing and sitting up. “Alright, alright. Give me five minutes to wake up, and we’ll practice.”

“YAY!” Leo cheered, scrambling off the bed and sprinting toward the backyard, still in his pajamas.

Lando groaned, rubbing his face before looking at you. “He’s relentless. Wonder where he gets that from,” he said pointedly.

You smirked. “No idea.”

By the time Lando shuffled outside in his hoodie and sweatpants, Leo was already sitting in his e-kart, revving it with dramatic “vroom vroom” noises.

“Alright, champ,” Lando said, grabbing a lawn chair and plopping down with a coffee in hand. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Leo took off, making wobbly loops around the yard, his helmet slightly askew. Lando watched for a few minutes, his dad instincts kicking in as he began shouting pointers.

“Keep your line tight, Leo! Hug the turn! No, no, not the flowerbeds again!”

After a particularly wide turn that nearly took out the garden gnome, Lando sighed, setting his coffee down. “Alright, buddy. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”

He walked over and crouched by Leo’s kart, pointing at the imaginary track lines he’d drawn in the dirt. “See these? You need to stay as close to the inside as possible when you turn. And always look ahead- don’t just focus on where you are now. Got it?”

Leo nodded seriously, his tiny brows furrowed in concentration. “Like you do on TV?”

“Exactly,” Lando said with a proud grin. “Now try it again.”

For the next hour, Lando coached Leo like he was prepping for a tournament, shouting tips and celebrating every successful lap.

When Leo finally parked the kart and bounded over to him, Lando ruffled his curls. “You’re getting better, little man. Maybe one day, you’ll be even faster than me.”

Leo beamed. “Really?”

Lando smirked. “Maybe.”

As you stepped outside with breakfast in hand, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the two of them, Lando sitting cross-legged in the grass, explaining cornering techniques to a four-year-old who was listening like his life depended on it.

“You know,” you said, handing Lando his toast, “most dads teach their kids how to ride bikes at this age, not perfect their racing lines.”

Lando grinned up at you. “Hey, he’s got dreams. I’m just helping him get there.”

Leo, already climbing back into his kart, shouted, “Mama, watch this! I’m gonna be the fastest!”

You shook your head fondly. “With you two, I don’t doubt it.”

—

It had been a long day of shopping for go-kart gear– helmets, gloves, and a racing suit with a tiny McLaren logo on it– but now, as you stood by the track, you couldn't help but beam with pride at your son.

Leo was strapped into a small go-kart, the bright orange helmet on his head looking just a little too big for him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

At five years old, Leo had taken to go-karts like a duck to water, and Lando and you had quickly become his most supportive, if slightly nervous, parents.

The track was alive with activity, and as soon as Leo strapped himself in, you felt the weight of how surreal it all was.

“Are you sure he’s ready for this?” you asked Lando, watching Leo wriggle with excitement in his tiny race helmet, bouncing around in the kart.

Lando, arms crossed, gave you a reassuring smile. “He’s been practicing. Trust me, he’s got this. Look at him. He’s practically bouncing out of the seat.”

Leo waved both hands in the air, his little face lit up with sheer joy. “I’m gonna go fast, Mama! Look!” He revved the engine, and the sound made your heart skip a beat.

“You ready, mate?” Lando asked, crouching beside the tiny kart. He adjusted the straps on his son’s helmet, worried it'd fly off, his hands careful but steady.

Your son nodded enthusiastically. “I was born ready, Daddy!”

“Alright,” Lando said, laughing as he ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “Let’s see what you’ve got. But remember, it’s not about speed yet. It’s about control, okay?”

“Okay!” he chirped, gripping the wheel with determination.

You watched from the sidelines, your heart in your throat as Lando guided him onto the track.

There was something surreal about seeing the two of them out there, your husband, a Formula 1 star, and your son, so small but already so fearless.

As Leo took his first cautious lap, Lando jogged alongside him, shouting instructions. “That’s it, stay on the line! Gentle on the throttle, buddy!”

When Leo finally came to a stop, his face was glowing with pride. “Did you see that, Daddy? I was so fast!”

“You were brilliant,” Lando said, crouching to meet his gaze. “But we’ve got to work on your corners, alright? That’s where the magic happens.”

—

Over the next few months, karting became a regular part of your family’s routine.

Every time Lando could get away from his own duties, your husband would put on his coach hat, guiding your son through every step, every turn, and every challenge.

It was more than just a sport to Lando; it was a way to connect, to pass on his knowledge, and to bond with his mini-me in a way words couldn’t capture.

“You’ve got to feel the kart,” Lando said one afternoon, squatting beside your Leo's small kart, his tone serious yet kind. “It’s like dancing. You’ve got to move with it, not against it.”

“Dancing?” Your son raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical as he shifted in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel like it was his best friend. “Karts don’t dance, Daddy!”

Lando chuckled, kneeling down to eye level with him. “They do if you’re good enough. You’ve just got to listen to it. Feel it, like how you feel the rhythm of a song. It’s all in the flow. The kart’s like a partner, you’ve got to be in sync with it.”

Leo giggled, shaking his head. “But I’m not dancing! I’m driving!”

Lando smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a little of both, mate. When you get really good, it’ll feel just like that. Trust me.”

He looked up at his dad, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“Really,” Lando said, his voice softening with a warmth that only a dad could have. “Now, let’s see you take that corner. Remember, don’t fight the kart. Let it flow.”

Leo hesitated for a moment, then grinned. “Okay! Like dancing!” he said, clearly embracing the idea with the boundless enthusiasm only a six-year-old could muster.

Lando watched as his son sped down the track, his tiny kart buzzing as he carefully navigated the first turn, just as his father had taught him.

Lando’s heart swelled with pride as he observed every small movement, how his son corrected himself when the kart started to drift, how he balanced speed and control.

“You’re doing great, mate!” Lando shouted, giving a thumbs-up as Leo zoomed past. “But remember, smooth on the throttle!”

“Like dancing, Daddy!” your son shouted back, grinning ear to ear, his confidence growing with each lap.

You stood off to the side, leaning against the fence, watching the two of them with a smile. There was something so perfect about seeing Lando in his element, not just as a racer but as a teacher, nurturing Leo's growing skills.

Your heart couldn’t help but swell with emotion as you saw how naturally it came to Lando. It wasn’t just the way he taught, it was the way he believed in Leo, how every lesson was laced with love, encouragement, and a touch of that signature Lando enthusiasm.

After a few more laps, your son came to a stop, his kart skidding to a halt just in front of Lando. He jumped out of the seat, eyes sparkling. “I did it, Daddy! I did the dance thing! I didn’t even crash!”

Lando grinned, clapping his hands together. “I’m impressed! You’ve got the moves, mate!” He pulled him into a hug, lifting him up off the ground. “I knew you had it in you. Now, let’s cool down and get ready to go again.”

Your son, still beaming, looked at you and shouted, “Mum, I’m dancing with the kart!”

—-

Leo was beaming as he climbed out of his tiny kart, still buzzing with excitement from the practice session.

His little helmet hair stuck out in all directions, and his cheeks were flushed pink. You watched from the sidelines, your heart swelling with pride as he excitedly waved at you and Lando.

But then, something, or someone, caught his attention.

A girl, about his age, was leaning against the fence, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her long dark ponytail swung slightly as she watched the other kids with an almost bored expression. Unlike the other kids who were laughing and chatting with their parents, she stood alone.

"Who's that?" Leo asked, tugging at Lando’s sleeve as he pointed toward her.

Lando crouched down to his level and followed his gaze. "I don’t know, buddy. Why don’t you go say hi?"

Leo hesitated, glancing at the girl and then back at his dad. "She looks kinda mad," he whispered.

Lando chuckled softly, ruffling Leo's hair. "She’s probably just nervous. Go on, introduce yourself. You might make a new friend."

Leo nodded, his natural confidence kicking in as he made his way over. You watched as your little boy approached the girl with his characteristic enthusiasm, clutching his helmet under his arm.

"Hi! I’m Leo!" he said brightly, stopping just a few feet away from her.

The girl glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "I know," she said flatly, her tone cool.

Leo blinked, caught off guard. "You do?"

She shrugged. "Your dad's Lando Norris. Everyone knows who you are."

Leo frowned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, yeah, but I mean, I’m not my dad. I’m just... me."

The girl raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "You drive like him," she said finally, her voice a little softer now.

Leo perked up at that. "You think so?!"

She shrugged again, but this time there was a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Maybe. I’m Lily," she said, holding out her hand like a mini-professional.

Leo grinned, shaking her hand enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you, Lily! Do you kart too?"

"Obviously," she said with a hint of sass, gesturing to the helmet resting on the ground beside her.

"Cool! Maybe we can race sometime," Leo said eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

Lily smirked, finally loosening up a bit. "If you can keep up."

"Oh, I can keep up!" Leo declared, puffing out his chest.

Lily rolled her eyes but laughed a little, and just like that, the ice was broken.

From a distance, you and Lando exchanged a look, both of you grinning. "Well, that’s our kid," Lando said, crossing his arms.

"Definitely your kid," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

"Think he’s got a chance with her?" Lando joked.

You laughed. "Let’s just hope they stick to racing for now."

As the two kids started chatting animatedly, comparing their karts and favorite drivers, it was clear that Leo had made his first friend in karting.

—-

It was a bright, bustling day at the karting track, with parents and kids mingling while mechanics tuned up their karts.

You and Lando were by the paddock, chatting with a few familiar faces when you spotted Leo in the distance, his hand wrapped firmly around a reluctant-looking girl’s wrist as he practically dragged her across the pit area.

“Mom! Dad!” Leo called, his voice carrying over the noise. His eyes were wide with excitement, his signature gap-toothed grin plastered across his face.

Lando nudged you, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Looks like our little social butterfly is on a mission.”

As they got closer, you recognized Lily, the girl Leo had mentioned a few times since their first meeting. Her helmet dangled from her other hand, her expression teetering somewhere between annoyed and nervous as Leo pulled her along.

“C’mon, Lily, they’re nice!” Leo said, encouraging her as if she was about to meet royalty.

“I never said they weren’t nice,” Lily mumbled, casting a quick glance your way before looking at the ground.

Behind her, a couple followed hesitantly, her parents, you guessed. They looked slightly out of place among the karting crowd, standing close together and exchanging quiet words.

Leo finally came to a stop in front of you and Lando, releasing Lily’s wrist. “Mom, Dad, this is Lily! She’s my best friend,” he announced proudly, then turned to Lily and gestured dramatically toward you.

“And these are my parents. That’s my mom, and that’s my dad.”

You waved at the little girl, smiling warmly. “We’re so happy to meet you, Lily.”

“Hi, Lily,” Lando added, crouching slightly to be at her level. “Leo’s told us a lot about you. He says you’re a great driver.”

Lily shuffled her feet, clearly flustered, but managed a small smile. “Thanks,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Mom, Dad,” Lily muttered, turning to the couple behind her. “These are Leo’s parents.”

Her parents stepped forward cautiously, clearly unsure how to navigate meeting a famous F1 driver. The woman smiled shyly, extending her hand to you first. “Hi, I’m Sarah, and this is my husband, James. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you both,” you said warmly, shaking her hand before turning to James. “We’ve heard wonderful things about Lily. She and Leo seem to get along really well.”

“They do,” James said, his tone polite but a little hesitant. “Leo’s all she talks about when she comes home from practice.”

Lando grinned, shaking both their hands. “Well, that’s great to hear. Leo’s pretty smitten with her too, he’s been calling her his best friend since the day they met.”

Lily groaned quietly, burying her face in her hands. “Leo, stop,” she mumbled.

Leo, oblivious to her embarrassment, grinned even wider. “But it’s true!”

Sarah chuckled, glancing at her daughter. “She talks about him a lot too. It’s nice to see her so excited about karting and making friends.”

As the conversation unfolded, you noticed Lando’s natural charm putting Lily’s parents at ease. He asked about their background, how Lily got into karting, and even cracked a few jokes that made them laugh. Meanwhile, Lily and Leo whispered to each other off to the side, Leo clearly trying to get her to open up more.

“You see?” Leo whispered loudly enough for you to hear. “I told you they’re nice. And my dad’s funny too.”

“Funny-looking, maybe,” Lily shot back, her lips twitching with the beginnings of a smirk.

Lando caught her comment and laughed, shaking his head. “You’re going to fit right in, Lily. Welcome to the team.”

—-

It was a big day, and everyone could feel the excitement in the air. Leo and Lily’s first real karting competition, where they’d race against kids their own age for the very first time.

The track was buzzing with energy as the young drivers in their helmets and race suits lined up, ready to face off.

You stood on the sidelines with Lando, your eyes following Leo and Lily as they climbed into their karts. The kids were practically vibrating with excitement, especially Leo, whose energy could rival any race car engine.

“Think Lily’s going to give him a run for his money?” you asked Lando, trying to hide the grin tugging at your lips. Lando, arms crossed and eyes glued to the track, was already fully invested in the race.

“She better,” Lando replied, a sly smile creeping up. “Keeps him sharp. But let’s be honest, I’m rooting for Leo. No one beats my boy in his first big race.”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him. “You’re supposed to be impartial.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Impartial? Nah. He’s got the Norris drive. You can see it, right?”

You gave him a knowing look. “Uh-huh.”

As the engines roared to life, the excitement intensified. Leo and Lily lined up side by side, helmets on and determination in their eyes. Even though their visors were down, you could practically feel the playful tension between them as they exchanged last-minute words.

“Ready, champ?” Lando asked Leo, giving him a quick thumbs-up.

“Born ready, Dad!” Leo called back, bouncing on the balls of his feet, clearly pumped.

The flag dropped, and with a deafening roar, the kids shot off the line. The track was filled with the sound of tiny engines and the rubber burning against the asphalt. Leo and Lily were already making moves, weaving through the pack, their little karts moving with surprising precision.

Lando was shouting instructions at Leo, even though it was clear there was no way Leo could hear him over the roar of the engines. “Stay tight on that turn, Leo!” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Come on, you’ve got this, son!”

The laps blurred by in a flash. Both Leo and Lily were putting on an impressive display, but you could tell they were both determined to take home the win. As the final lap neared, it was clear it was going to come down to the two of them- Leo and Lily, neck and neck.

On the final stretch, Leo pushed forward with everything he had. You could see the fire in his eyes as he zoomed ahead. “Come on, Leo!” you cheered, pumping your fists in the air.

Lily wasn’t far behind, giving it her all, but Leo crossed the finish line first. The crowd erupted in cheers, and you couldn’t help but join in, clapping and laughing as Leo brought his kart to a stop and practically leapt out of it.

His helmet was off before his feet hit the ground, and his face was flushed with a mix of excitement and pride.

“I won!” he shouted, giggling uncontrollably as he ran toward you. “Mom! Dad! I won!”

Lando, a proud grin plastered on his face, leaned over and whispered to you, “That’s my boy.”

Leo reached you, practically bouncing with energy. “Did you see? Did you see? I beat Lily!” he shouted, his eyes wide with excitement.

Lily, who had come over with her helmet off, shot Leo an amused look. “Barely,” she said, crossing her arms. “Next time, I’m going to smoke you.”

Leo stuck his tongue out at her. “Yeah, right! You can try,” he teased, giving her a playful shove.

Before Lily could respond, a group of reporters rushed in, cameras flashing like crazy. “Leo Norris, the next Lando Norris!” one reporter called, practically tripping over themselves. “How does it feel to win your first big race?”

Leo’s eyes widened at the attention, but instead of getting shy, he bounced on his toes, giggling uncontrollably. “It feels amazing!” he exclaimed, his grin impossibly wide. “And my dad helped me! He’s the best coach ever!”

Lando leaned down and ruffled Leo’s hair, looking at him with obvious pride. “It’s all him,” Lando said, a smug grin creeping onto his face. “But yeah, I taught him a thing or two.”

Leo’s eyes darted to you, his excitement palpable. “Mom, did you hear? They called me the next Dad! That’s so cool!”

You crouched down to his level, cupping his face in your hands. “I heard, baby,” you said, laughing. “But remember, you’re going to be amazing in your own way, okay?”

Leo nodded eagerly, giggling again as Lando scooped him up before setting him down as Leo protested.. “Alright, champ,” Lando said, spinning him around in a playful circle. “First win, but it won’t be the last. Let’s go to the podium!”

As you made your way back to the pits, Leo couldn’t stop talking, bouncing around between you and Lando like a pinball. “Did you see the way I passed that guy on the corner? I was like- vroom! Zoom!” He made exaggerated car noises, clearly reliving every moment of his victory.

Lily, on the other hand, was quieter, watching Leo with a knowing smirk. Every so often, she shot him a playful side-eye, clearly already planning her next move to beat him next time.

As you were packing up, Lily’s parents approached, looking a bit shy but beaming with pride. They had always kept a respectful distance, never letting your fame affect how they treated you.

“Uh, hi,” Lily’s dad said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “We just wanted to say congratulations to Leo. That was one heck of a race.”

“Thanks!” Leo beamed back, his face lighting up. “But Lily was really fast, too! She almost got me!”

Lily, standing next to her parents, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Next time, I’m taking you down,” she said, smirking.

Her dad laughed and nudged her. “That’s the spirit.”

Then he turned to you and Lando, looking a little more nervous. “Actually, we were wondering… Since it’s both their first big race, we thought it might be nice to celebrate. Maybe grab dinner somewhere? Our treat.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Lando, who was grinning from ear to ear. “That sounds great,” Lando said, his voice warm. “We’d love to.”

Lily’s mom smiled brightly, her relief evident. “Really? That’s wonderful! We know a nice little place nearby. Nothing fancy, but the kids will love it.”

You gave Leo a playful look. “What do you think, champ? Dinner with Lily?”

Leo grinned, bouncing up and down. “As long as she doesn’t get mad when I tell everyone I won,” he teased.

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m not mad. I’ll just tell them you cheated,” she shot back.

“You’re on!” Leo laughed, already racing toward the car with Lily close behind, her competitive spirit no longer just playful but full of determination.

Lando shook his head with a chuckle. “Looks like they’ve got it all figured out.”

Lily’s mom laughed softly as she watched them chase each other. “It’s funny. We’ve never seen Lily so competitive before. She’s usually a bit… reserved.”

“Well,” you said, glancing at Lando with a smirk, “Leo has a way of bringing that out in people. Wonder where he gets it from?”

Lando gave you a playful shrug. “No idea. Must be you.”

[bitterrfruit]

wild cherries [3]

price x f!reader. 10k words cw: dubcon. thigh fucking. mild sadism. 18+ mdni [masterlist]

you try your luck.

You had a fitful sleep; wracked with feverish dreams of sun and skin, of plum bruises and cherry juice.

You woke up many times throughout the night with cold sweat damp on the back of your neck, cunt shivering and slippery as you dreamed of the cowboy’s tormenting hand, of his thumb intruding into your slit. Of your wet knickers being held in a tight and burly fist, being shoved covertly into a worn pocket. 

It was near impossible for you to get comfortable in your bed – you were unable to lie on your back, for any pressure on your marred buttocks stung hot like a fresh brand.

Before the sun had risen you had been briefly awoken by the raucous sounds of the ranch whirring to life; disturbed by the yelling of your elder brother and his ranchmen from your second-storey window, by the humming engines of trucks and tractors rolling off to toil. The sounds, at least, brought you some form of nostalgic comfort, and it didn’t take you long to drift back to sleep. 

The sky was powder grey in the morning, after nine, when you finally bothered to kick off your sheet and slip out of bed. Sun concealed by a sheer veil of dry white cloud. 

You slid your feet into your sandal slippers and wandered down the moaning staircase in your linen nightdress, rubbing fists into your puffy sockets and making your sleep-blurred vision all sparkly. You heard your sister’s voice in the kitchen before you spotted her. 

“Slow morning?” She murmured, soft enough in tone that perhaps she didn’t intend for you to hear it. 

Evelyn was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, frowning at her open laptop and tapping away contemptuously at the keys. You thought to ask her what she was working on, but knew the half-hearted response you’d get – a distracted oh, it’s nothing, while her eyes remain pinned to the screen. 

“Yep,” you croaked, scuffing over to the pantry and hanging off the open door. Perused the shelves for a box of cereal that didn’t have the word bran on it. 

“Eat quickly, will you?” She said, far more pointedly, and when you glanced over your shoulder she was looking right at you. Had that quirk in her lip that betrayed an uneasy vexation. “Miles is taking us over at quarter-to.” 

You frowned as you tugged a box of Honey Nut Cheerios from the back of the pantry, one with the cardboard flap ajar, and which you swear was the same box that had been there the last time you came to visit. 

“Taking us where?” You asked mindlessly, shuffling to the fridge to grab the milk. 

You heard a scoff from your sister as you poured the dry wheat cereal into an empty bowl. “To the neighbours’.” 

“What?” You spat, cocking your head around to glare at her. “Why?”

The adrenaline that rinsed you was sudden and sharp, at the thought of seeing the man again so soon after his incursion. Having to sit still, to pretend all is normal, to feign sweetness and ignorance as you stand in the presence of both he and your siblings in one room. Suddenly you didn’t want your cereal anymore. 

“We’ve got things to discuss with him,” she said grouchily. “And you have an apology to give.”

“Apology for what?” You snapped, resorting to petulance having been scolded. 

Evelyn only released an exasperated groan as she shut her laptop lid. “You know what,” she chided. “Second day here and you’ve already pissed him off.” 

“He wasn’t-” You started, biting your tongue just as swiftly as you had begun to blurt out that he was just as at fault as you. “He wasn’t pissed off.” 

“Miles told me he dragged you home by your ear, Bee,” she grumbled. “I don’t even want to know what you coulda done to get him that burned up.” 

“I didn’t even do anything,” you mumbled testily, tipping a splash of milk into your cereal. 

“Whatever. Just – be polite, and–” She sighed as she paused, “just don’t get into any more trouble, will you? We want him on our good side.” 

You snorted as you scooped a spoonful of your cereal and shoved it into your open mouth. “What are you going to discuss with him, then? Why do I even need to be there?”

“It’s – ugh. It’s a complicated situation, Bee,” she failed to explain, “but we need to be a united front. We’re a family, it’s a family business. A family ranch. We all need to be in it together.” 

You pursed your lips, fought the desire to furrow your brows in contempt. “Still don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Look, Miles can explain it better to you later. Just finish your breakfast and wear something – something presentable for once.” 

The Cheerios were stale and tasted like cardboard and dried syrup. You only shot your sister a foul look and huffed derisively, taking your cereal upstairs with you. 

Something presentable. Your sister had a way of insulting you without even needing to utter the words. That was her way of telling you that you had been dressing like a slut. Short sundresses were simply so much more practical for your escapades – easier to ride in, to walk in, let you feel the breeze on your skin. Ensured you wouldn’t bake alive under the summer sun. 

So you simply chose a slightly longer dress than usual. Dusty red plaid with a hem that brushed your calves, a wide neckline and little cap sleeves. Probably a hand-me-down from the seventies, one of the perks of so many generations of women living in the same farmhouse. It smelled like dust and patchouli. 

You scrunched your wild hair up into an uncombed ponytail, barely held in place by a floppy hair tie, and smeared some strawberry chapstick over your lips as you meandered your way down the stairs. 

Immediately crossed paths with Miles as he trudged down the hallway, black rancher hat still atop his head and a leather briefcase tucked under his arm. His tan button down was tucked into his jeans, a truly anomalous sight. 

“So why are we going to the neighbours’?” You asked pertly, as you immediately followed behind him towards the kitchen. 

He sighed gruffly, as you completely expected. It was always such a nuisance for them to explain things to you, to dumb it all down enough that you’d understand it. That, or, he was simply in a sour mood. Either just as likely. 

“We’re only going over for a conversation,” he deadpanned, dumping the briefcase on the island counter before going to the sink to get himself a glass of water. Evelyn was gone – busy making herself presentable, you assumed. As if she weren’t in a perpetual state of presentableness. 

You groaned. Their persistent vagueness was excruciating. “About what.” 

“It’s just – it’s all business stuff, Bee,” he said, exhaling sharply after downing the whole glass. Must have been hot out there. “Negotiations and junk – it’d bore you to death.” 

“Then why do I need to come?” You grumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the jamb of the open door. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, already exasperated with you. You seemed to have that effect on people. “Look, if you really don’t want to come then don't. I’m not gonna drag you there.” 

“Eve said we have to be a united front,” you disputed. Still wanted an explanation. “What does that even mean?”

He smiled a little at that, moustache stretching with the grin. 

“Good at likening things to war, that woman,” he snorted. “She just means it’d be less – less formal if we show up, all of us. Ol’ John’s probably sick of both our faces by now.” 

“Probably sick of mine, now, too,” you said coyly, mindlessly tracing the lines of the hardwood with the tip of your big toe. 

He laughed at you, full and from his belly, and the room lightened up with it. “Likely,” he chortled, “Especially if you keep sniffin’ round after ‘im.” 

“Wasn’t sniffing. Only looking,” you murmured, through a bashful grin. “You’re not mad at me after yesterday?” 

“No, hun,” he said, rubbing his forehead, concern still eking through the creases in his brow. “Only surprised you got yourself caught so quickly.” 

You snickered. “Not mad at him for grabbing me, neither?” 

He shrugged. “No. That served you right.” 

“M’kay, fine,” you conceded demurely. “I’ll come, then.”

There was another truck parked beside Mr Price’s blue Chevy as Miles pulled up his long driveway, a black pickup coated in a layer of dust. 

Evelyn and Miles had been murmuring to each other for the duration of the short drive, bickering about some deal or other, about what to say and what not to say. In truth, you paid little attention, despite your earlier curiosity. Miles was right, it bored you to death, even attempting to listen in on whatever business endeavour the contentious visit was going to cover. You quietly stuck your head out of the window of the back seat, eyeing the looming homestead as you drove around the bend, and Miles pulled to a stop by the front porch. 

The air smelled wet and heavy when you hopped out and onto the gravel drive. The blanket of rolling clouds had swelled, distended with imminent rain sagging in its blue-grey bulges. You could feel it sticky and warm on your skin, it made your hairs prickle up. 

Your siblings were still mumbling between each other as they slammed shut their doors, wandering towards the porch steps, briefcases and papers in hand. All business, so they said. How tedious. 

While their backs were to you, you slinked towards Mr Price’s truck. 

You wondered if he spotted the cotton sin you left in the cab. You wondered why you had even thought to do such a thing at all. What was wrong with you? Were you really made so delusional by his degenerate punishment that you would so debase yourself? 

Humiliation simmered sour in your belly, as you heard your siblings knock on the great front door. You imagined John revealing your foul little secret, making some sly comment about it as you greeted him. Might he chastise you for your outrageously licentious behaviour? Shame you for your petulant whorishness? 

Perhaps he hadn’t seen your panties at all, inconspicuous as they were. 

With a swallow you stood on the tips of your toes, fingertips barely grazing the dusty metal of the truck, you peeked through the passenger window. Eyes scoured the leather seat, between the seatbelts, below the dashboard. 

They were gone. 

You wrenched your eyes shut, wetting them so you could check again, and again – eagerly seeking a glint of white fabric anywhere in the truck’s cabin. No sign. 

With that, you knew that not only had he noticed them – he must have touched them. Must have picked them up, that sliver of pointelle cotton, must have looked at them closely enough to determine what they were. Might he have noticed the fabric was still wet, cold to the touch between his fingers? 

Your tongue ran along the back of your teeth at the thought of him holding them, feeling the material in his hands, against his skin. At the thought of him knowing it had been the only barrier between his finger and your–

“Honeybee!” Hissed your sister through sharp teeth, and you jumped – spun around on the heel of your boot with your hands pinned to your sides. 

John stood in the open front door. Arms crossed. All three of them looked dead at you. 

“Coming,” you bleated, walking towards them as casually as you could make yourself appear. Your heart was fat in your throat, and your skin was sheeny with anxious sweat and humidity.  

You caught John’s eye as you sheepishly scooped a stray curl and tucked it behind your ear. His expression was rigid as stone, eyes squinting, lips in a censorious curl under his beard. The weight of his glare was leaden and your feet felt heavy. 

Did he know what you were looking for in his truck?

There was a faint quirk in his brow, you saw, as you approached and stood slyly behind your older siblings. A glint of surprise. Perhaps agog at the bravura of showing up at his home after your transgression, bold enough to bare your face to him.

“Whole family, eh?” He asked gruffly, heavy stare only leaving you when Miles offered a pleasant chuckle. 

“Only polite,” Miles said warmly, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Lil’ miss has some making up to do, too.” 

Your cheeks turned apple-red and you fought back the scowl that tugged at your mouth. Lil’ miss. Good at calling on your father’s old patronising habits, Miles. 

John only seemed to find the comment amusing, letting out a low huff, cracking a faint smirk. 

“S’that so?” He coaxed, amused. Sharp blues fastened to you once again, and you could only pick at your fingernails. 

You held your tongue, hoping you could convey that he’s the one who needs to apologise without having to say it aloud. His smugness was unearned, you had just as much to reveal about him as he did you.

He knew you wouldn’t out yourself. You could see it in his sinking smirk.

“It’s a new day, eh?” He grunted, standing to the side and flicking his head to beckon the lot of you inside. “C’mon in, then.”

Your siblings filed in first, but you dithered by the door. John waited in the arch, thick arms crossed cavalierly over his chest, he looked down his nose at you. You hoped he’d venture in after Evelyn and you could slink in behind, but he stayed put. Waiting for you to pass him. Kept your eye as you glowered up at him, daring him to say something; to admit what he had found, to apologise for assailing you, to castigate you for your insolence. 

There was plenty you wanted to say to him, and the words itched at the very tip of your tongue. You stifled them with your teeth instead. Let out an impudent huff as you nudged past him, and he followed closely behind you, shutting the door. You felt his livid warmth on your back, heard his coarse breathing and felt it tickle your hair. The adrenaline thumping through your runny blood made your fingertips tingle, you closed them into fists. 

The foyer was grand, almost cavernous; stained walnut wainscotting on all the walls, old patterned rugs peppered every floor. The enormous staircase unfurled in the centre of the hall, second story mezzanine wrapped around its edges, ornate spindle balustrades wrapped the stairs and the loft. An enormous light fixture hung from the centre second story ceiling, fashioned of deer antlers and many coruscant lightbulbs. You wondered how long it had been there. How many Prices ago it had been made by hand out of the severed antlers of hunted game. 

Seems your siblings had been here for many meetings before, because they knew immediately where to go – put themselves in some sort of drawing room past the stairs, and you meekly followed them. Had Mr Price at your tail like a collie herding you where he wanted you.

Led you to the room containing two imposing leather sofas, facing each other, a large slab of polished wood serving as a coffee table between them. The furthest wall contained floor-to-ceiling glass cabinets, filled to the brim with upright rifles. Long and short, hunting rifles, shotguns, double-barrels. Some of them looked a hundred years old. Towering transom windows lined the eastern wall, bathing the room in the dim ashen glow of the cloudy sky outside. A spinning fan hung from the ceiling. 

You noticed that there was another man in the room, only once you had been ferried in and stood awkwardly before you decided where to sit. He sat opposite your siblings with a black brick hat on his knee. Blond-haired and brown-eyed. 

John must have noticed you staring blankly at him, because his hand landed on your shoulder. A purely cordial touch, and yet it made you wince like he had spanked you again. 

“Ah, this’s Simon,” he said amicably, “he’s my foreman.” 

Simon stood and reached over to shake your hand, silent type, and gave you a stiff nod when you slipped your hand in his and shook it. Big and calloused, like John’s. 

Seemed to be business from there on. Miles opened his briefcase on the coffee table and pulled out a manila folder, a few sheets of paper with words and numbers printed on them. Evelyn had her laptop open on her knees. John and Simon leaned back into the couch with apathy engraved in their stone faces. Seemed your siblings were the ones here to do business. They were buttering him up for something. 

You went to sheepishly sit on the couch next to Miles as he started droning on about some sale, something about acreage and borders and permits, whatever. You glanced at his papers in hopes of spotting a word or two that might have jumped out at you. 

The moment you landed in the leather, though, you winced and sucked a gust of air through clenched teeth – the mark of Mr Price’s savage hand on your bottom burned white-hot under the sudden pressure, and the incisive pain shot through you like a bullet. 

John’s murky glare was already on you when you looked across the room. 

Didn’t need to say a word to you, his lour spoke for him. He was scolding you. 

You wondered what he would say to you, if he let himself. What words his tongue formed behind his teeth as he glowered at you. Serves you right. Don’t you get caught. Does that burn feel good?

He opened his mouth to speak, and your stomach plummeted. 

“Why don’t y’go fix us some drinks, girl?” he said gravely, directly to you, crudely interrupting your brother mid-spiel. 

Your brows twitched into a bemused frown, jaw loose as you failed to summon a response to him.  

Girl? The condescension in his tone made your blood roil in your veins, turbid with shards of spite. You weren’t stupid — you knew it was a thinly veiled demand to go away. To let the grown ups talk, as if you were not one of them. 

“I—”

“Mm, good idea,” Evelyn cooed calmly – but the bulgy-eyed tight-lipped look she shot you snapped behave. “I’ll have an ice water.”

“Me too,” said John, arm hung insouciantly over the back of the sofa. “Lil’ slice o’ lime would be nice, eh?”

You scoffed. “Sure,” you grumbled, vitriolic facetiousness bleeding into the word. You pushed yourself up from the couch and thundered out of the room. 

“You’re a doll,” John called after you, and you could hear the smugness coating his throat, thick as honey. 

Prick. Prick. 

You murmured it over and over under your breath as you steamed towards the kitchen, your angry boots echoing out in clunks with every step on his parquet floorboards. Only once you found your way to the kitchen entrance did you stop in your tracks, eyes raking over the cluttered counters and the open door to an outdoor veranda. 

You didn’t have to pour them drinks. You didn’t have to do anything. You were as much an adult as any of them, regardless of how egregiously they patronised you, or how many years of life they had gained on you. 

No, you could busy yourself with something else entirely. 

You had a treasure to find. 

The panties you fatuously left in his truck just to spite him. You wanted them back. 

It made your head muzzy with unease to think of him sitting across from your siblings, chatting away about something innocuous, all the while your dirty little secret was tucked away in the back of his mind. Stashing it up like a slug in the chamber of a rifle. Ready to fire it whenever the opportunity presented itself, whenever you displeased him. 

What could he have done with them? Perhaps he threw them away, tossed them in the trash where they belonged, or dumped them in the crick so he could be rid of them. Maybe he left them by the door, in anticipation of returning them. Maybe he has them in his pocket. 

You started with the coat rack by his front door. Skulking around on the tips of your leather toes, you stuck your fingers in every pocket of every jacket, no luck. 

Checked the laundry ��� fucking chaotic as it was in there, reeked of his sweat and the loamy smell of farm work. His boxers and sweat-stained t-shirts piled in baskets, plaid flannels tossed unlovingly over an ironing board, black triangular burns of a dropped iron painting the blue foam. 

The richly heady scent in there made you dizzy and hot on the back of your neck. Made your stomach flutter. Smelled like the barn. Like him bending you over the hay.  

No panties in there, either, and you dug through everything. Left it messier than it was when you got there, but you could be near certain he wouldn’t even notice. 

Upstairs, next. 

Crept up them as quietly as you could, begrudging the cries of the old wood as you made your way up. You noticed, as you made it to the landing, that all of the doors to old bedrooms were closed; those of his brothers, and his parents, sealed off like tombs. 

It made you swallow. The air was heavier up there, dense with dust and solitude. It was hotter, too, all of the warmth of the lower storey funnelled up the stairs and pumped into the mezzanine, and it was pyretic just to breathe it. 

One door was open, though, barely ajar. A tawny wax canvas jacket with a brown corduroy collar hung from the top of the old door. You recognised it immediately – John’s jacket. Old, worn-out, might have been his father’s, just like his hat. His bedroom, you were sure. You slithered towards it, holding your breath as devotedly as you might while submerged underwater. 

And as you got closer, you spotted it – a glimmer of white, the tongue of pointelle cotton sticking out of an open pocket on his coat. Right there. 

“Fuck y’think you’re doin’?” Came a bark from the stairs, and you jumped like a startled cat.

John came hounding towards you once he made it to the landing, and you immediately backed away from his door. You spun around to inch away, hoping you’d end up in a bathroom with a door that locked, but it became quickly obvious that you had nowhere to run. 

Exasperation radiated from him with each ragged breath – sick and tired more than furious, it made you shrink all the same. With a few short strides he was behind you, and you chirped in fright when he grabbed you by your ponytail and yanked you back like a puppy on a lead. 

He held your hair in a fist, pulling your head against his chest, angled back so you could look up at him from behind you. 

“Lookin’ for something?” He asked throatily, a low growl, accusation on his tongue. 

You yelped when he lightly tugged your ponytail, seemed to you like he did it just to make you squeak. “I was – I was just looking for the bathroom.” 

“Liar,” he grunted. 

“I’m n–”

“You’re in my good graces for now, honey,” he muttered, as his head craned beside yours, wiry beard grazing your cheek, “on account of your lil’ present.” 

Your ribs clamped shut around your lungs. Fingertips turned ice cold. Present. Such a euphemistic way to put it. A present. You froze when you felt his hand on your buttock, wide enough to cup it, fixing into place over the wound he had already left there. 

“But don’t you push your luck.”

Then he squeezed, and you shrieked, muffled quickly by a winded whimper — the pain as blinding and searing as a branding iron, shape of his hand all but cooked permanently into your skin. The palm of his hand may as well have been barbed, pierced the skin with a million little needles, it might have even hurt less. 

“That hurts,” you whined, cleaved to him by his grip on your hair. 

“Good,” he growled. 

Only then did he let you go, after twisting your body around to face the direction of the stairs. 

“Go’on,” he barked, goading you forward with a smack on your ass. “Get.” 

You meandered ahead like it hurt to walk. 

John hoped it did. He hoped that every time you moved, every time you sat down, every time you accidently brushed it with the caress of your skirt, you thought of him. Of every apology he struck out of you. Of every line you’ve ever crossed. 

Oh, what he’d give to see it. 

He reprimanded himself every time the image crossed his mind, of your supple little ass, defaced by his punishment. He simply couldn’t help it. He imagined that the weal of his hand was raised there, pricked with plum and cherry red, a marker of his authority. Of his territory. 

He had to be rid of you. Couldn’t focus on a single word lobbed at him by your diplomat of a brother while you were in the room with him, sucking up all the air and every drop of his attention. The dramatic suck of your teeth as you landed on the brand he gave you, just rubbing it in. 

Such a little shit, you were. Intractable animal. Asked you to fix a drink, and you couldn’t even do that. 

No, you slinked around his home instead, sticking your misbehaving little fingers into every room, filling his house up with the smell of you. Good thing he caught you before you snuck into his bedroom, leaving trails of you in his only refuge. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if you had. 

He kept a pointed glare hitched on your back as he followed you, limbs and teeth braced to chase and tackle you if you dared to bolt in any direction. But, a good girl for once, you made your way to the stairs, little eyes flicking over your shoulder every now and then to check whether he was still following you. He didn’t let more than two feet stretch between his body and yours. Not stupid enough to take that risk again. 

Far less revealing dress this time. He could still see down the neckline, and you had probably made sure of that. Could see the swell of your breasts, soft and round, their rise and fall as you breathed so meekly against him. Couldn’t see your pebbled nipples through the fabric, though. Skirt was quite a bit longer. For the best. 

He guessed your sister might have told you to wear it, proper as she was. Always painfully worried about image, and yet he could see right through her and your slimy prick of a brother. 

Still had no clue what to make of you. 

Were you cognisant of the effect you had on him? Were you toying with him for your own sake, or for theirs? 

Either way, he didn’t want it. 

Trouble. 

Your siblings waited for you at the bottom of the stairs, Evelyn with her arms crossed, and Miles gave him a suspicious glare through his pinched eyes on his way down. Mustn’t have liked the way John handled his little sister. Either too much of a coward, or too hungry for his bargain to say anything. Or, equally as likely, he was utterly blind to your exploits, enigmatic as you were. 

Didn’t matter. John could not give less of a shit about your brother’s notions. 

“Found ‘er,” he barked, watching as you grouchily wandered between the two of them and swiftly escaped through his front door. 

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose, an exasperated groan. “What was she doing this time?” 

John huffed. “Looking for the bathroom,” he said dryly, immediately questioning why he lied for you. So he buffered it; “Apparently.” 

“Sorry about her,” she said stiffly, it was evident you’d be receiving a scolding once the lot of you got home. “She’s – ugh. You know.” 

He had nothing to say to that. 

“Well – thanks for having us by, anyway, Jonathan,” she continued, suddenly perking up, returning to her prim and proper self. “Hope you’ll think about it? Just give us a call, will you? Or – drop by, you know, whenever. Door’s always open.”

He nodded apathetically. “Uh-huh.”

She returned with a nod of her own, a hopeful one, before she tucked her laptop under her arm and followed out after you, where you waited winsomely at the top of the porch steps. 

Miles sauntered towards him, then, thumbs tucked aloofly into the pockets of his jeans, until one hand landed on John’s shoulder. Gave him a squeeze, tighter than would be friendly. His jovial smile was translucent, and it faded fast, once the girls were out of earshot. 

“Don’t you fuck me on this, Jonathan,” he said derisively, snarled under breath. 

John chewed on nothing. His hands were in fists of their own volition. If he were to speak he’d say something regrettable, he knew himself well enough to be certain of that. So he said nothing, only glowered at the man who all but threatened him. 

“It’s the best offer we’re ever gonna get,” Miles rigidly insisted. “You know that as well as I do. We’ll be under in two years. Three if we’re lucky. This ain’t our world anymore.” 

John took measured breaths through his nose. Licked his teeth. The urge to maul the man like a bear rankled in every muscle. You probably wouldn’t forgive him, if he did such a thing. 

“You wanna keep that hand?” He asked hoarsely, monotone, through a clenching jaw. 

Miles grinned at that, as sunny as ever, before landing two genial pats on John’s shoulder. 

“S’alright,” he said, as he stepped back, fixing his black hat to the top of his head. Shot a glance at Simon, who hovered behind John like a shadow, until then unnoticed. “You’ll come around.”

You had left your bedroom door open when you put yourself to bed that night. 

Not to let anyone in, God forbid; though you did find yourself seeing the cowboy’s silhouette in your doorframe, a shadow in your periphery. Your heart flitted in your chest before you blinked him away. 

Instead the decision was some callback to your teenagehood. You had learned at fourteen that your cast iron doorknob squealed and clattered in dispute when you twisted it; loud enough to alert your father whenever you attempted to sneak out of the house after nightfall. Through trial and error, you discovered that if you left your oaken door ajar, only slightly, it would appear closed from the corner of the hall – where daddy would peek around before barking, good night, Honeybee. 

You were an adult now, though, and your father was long gone. For a time your brother tried to adopt the habit of monitoring you, but it was futile, even in your youth. 

You confounded even yourself with your precaution. You weren’t going anywhere, were you? No rules you intended to break? 

Your toes twitched. And your fingers twiddled. You squeezed your eyes shut, as if holding them closed for long enough would trick your mind into sleep, and didn’t instead focus the entirety of your attention on the still lingering sting of Mr Price’s hand. 

You couldn’t help but circle like a vulture the memory of the ground under your knees, the hay under your elbows. The barbaric clap of his hand on your skin, the grinding of your kneecaps into the gravelly dirt on every thrust. What you daydreamed his expression might have been as he hurled his retributive hand into the bare skin of your cheek. 

Might he have been frowning? Grinning? Did he inspect the damage of his handiwork very closely? Did he let his eyes linger on your curves and valleys longer than he should have? 

What went through his mind as he let his thumb venture down the cleft of you, as he pushed the tip into your slit through your sodden gusset? Might he have been marvelling in the wetness? Repulsed by its implication? 

What was he going to do with your knickers, your present as he called it? You imagined them tangled in his fingers, tucked into his fist in his pocket. Him pinching the fabric between his thick fingers as he spoke to his ranchmen. Would he tell his foreman about it? Would he show him?

Now you were entirely awake. Glaring holes into your plaster ceiling, listening to the hammering of your heart in your ears. 

Baking alive in your bed, you were covered only by your thin cotton sheet, and even that was too hot. You sweltered in it, a torrid heat that made your hair crispy and skin itchy. Sweat beaded along your brow, clammy on the back of your neck, and no matter how you laid, you found no comfort. No relief. 

Soon, you had slipped out of bed completely. 

You had not decided on a course of action, yet you crept through the gap in your bedroom door. The moonlit hallway moaned grumpily as you slithered down the stairs, ensuring the patter of your bare feet on the hardwood was as silent as you could muster. 

Plucked your father’s old Carhartt chore coat from its hook by the back door, canvassy and speckled with mud, and pulled it over your bare arms to provide at least some protection from the night. It was longer than your floral linen nightie, short and sheer as it was. You didn’t bother with shoes, your seasoned feet were well used to tip-toeing around the prairies bare. With a careful push of the screen door you stepped out onto the veranda, following your nose without the need for a torch. 

The night air was a cool relief, gentle and calming on your febrile skin. The quiet song of crickets filled the breezeless air, the occasional cry of a coyote in the far distance. Kept at bay by the guardian dogs that littered your ranch. Sometimes you thought you could sleep out there, curled up in the grass like a barn cat, if it weren’t for the gnats. 

You knew the path to Mr Price’s property so well you could navigate it with your eyes shut. Every rock to skip over, every fallen fence post, every tree marking the way. Nonetheless the swollen moon glowed unfettered by clouds, bathing the grassy hills in ultramarine and illuminating the way as you hopped his decrepit fence. 

You had a plan. 

Knew where the knickers were. In the pocket of his canvas jacket, hung on his door. He wouldn’t be expecting you to sneak in after dark, so surely his guard would be down. He’d be sat with his feet up in his lonely sitting room, cigar hooked in his finger, watching baseball highlights or whatever else solitary men busied themselves with. You were sure he wouldn't be sleeping yet. It wasn’t even ten at night, knowing him, he probably only turned in an hour or two ago. 

His ominous homestead came into view through the cottonwood trees, as you scampered between their trunks and over the vibrant underbrush. You creeped around the front of the house, silent step after silent step, hoping to spot an open window. 

And you found one, barely open, a sash window raised only an inch — you stuck your nosy fingers between the gap, carefully lifting the heavy pane by its dark-stained trim. Slipped inside like a little burglar. 

It was dark inside. You found yourself in what looked like a study, bulky mahogany desk in the centre of the room, spinning chair tucked underneath it. It was busy, filled to the brim with clutter and signs of life – seemingly untouched, layered in dust like it had been long abandoned. You supposed a man like Mr Price didn’t give much time to studying. 

You took a single step, and froze – your chore coat rustled loudly, dangerously so, even with a mere breath it threatened to alert your reticent neighbour to your intrusion. So you cautiously slipped your arms from its roomy sleeves, and gently left it in a pile by the very window through which you had trespassed. 

Now truly silent you inched towards the foyer like a spider. Every step whisper silent, moved on the balls of your feet, swallowed shallow breaths. 

The light was on in the kitchen – must be in there, you thought, and you avoided going anywhere near it. Instead you slithered up the staircase, one by one, where the faintest amber glow poured from an open door. As you retraced your steps to the landing, along the loft, to his door – the coat was gone. 

You would have cursed if you could speak aloud. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You could well have turned and left, abandoned the expedition altogether and prayed he didn’t hear you escaping. But you were in deep, now. Deep enough that giving up felt like a greater risk than persevering. Sunk cost. 

He must have hung the coat on the back of his door, or maybe dumped it on the end of his bed, or tossed it over the back of a chair. Perhaps he wore it out for the day, ensuring the panties were on his person, in case you dared to commit the very crime you now did. 

With kittenish fingers on the door, you eked it open, and its old dry hinges whimpered with the movement. Peeking through, you saw the origin of the faint light was seeping from a separate room; an ensuite, likely, though his bedroom was still bathed in darkness. 

It was different than how you had imagined it. You pictured something sparse, messy, beer bottles on the chest-of-drawers and a tissue box by the bed. A bachelor suite. 

Instead, it was well-kept. A painting of a pine-coated landscape hung over his bed, framed in ornately carved wood. His bed was made, an old hand-made quilt folded over by the head, and a plaid woolen blanket draped over the end. Little picture frames sat in a line on his dresser, too dark to see of who – but there were three of them, so you could guess. Two brothers and a pair of parents. 

His room smelled of him, warm and musky, rich with the terpenic scent of chypre cologne and cigar smoke. It made your mouth water. 

Then, you found them. 

Your little cotton knickers. Hung from the brass knob of the top drawer of his dresser. Bright white against the darkly stained pine. 

You swallowed and it went down your throat like broken glass. He hadn’t even hidden them. Brazenly hung them on display for anybody to see. 

Foolish of him. 

You glissaded towards the chest-of-drawers, plucked them from the knob with shaky fingers, and triple checked they were yours. And they were, absolutely – you could tell by the little satin rose of pink ribbon that adorned the front of them. 

Relief rinsed you warm and sweet once they were bundled in your hand, objective achieved. Yours again. You only needed to–

“Adding burglary to the list, are you?”

The rumbling voice blurted out from behind you and you sprung from the ground like a rabbit, squealing in the shock that wracked you. 

You swivelled in a blink with your heart in your throat, facing the man who had caught you. Still shaking with adrenaline, you could scarcely wrangle your tongue to utter a single word in your defence. 

“I’m – they’re–”

“Didn’t expect that,” he drawled. 

It was difficult to make him out, the tall silhouette of the prodigious man against the light of his ensuite bathroom, broad shoulders rocking as he sauntered in your direction. You watched in silence as he tucked in the tongue of the powder-blue towel wrapped around his hips. His tousled hair was wet and spiked – freshly showered, you guessed, the benzoin scent of his soap lingered in the air around him. 

“I’m – I’m not burg – burgling,” you stammered, finally finding your words, you straightened your spine. “I’m taking them back.” 

“No you’re not,” he grumbled, edging towards you, heavy thuds with each arrogant step. 

You were frozen in place. Shivering as though cold. Toes digging into the hardwood like it might fall out from beneath you. 

The moonlight glaring through his open window barely illuminated him on his approach; carving out the valleys of his gladiatorial chest, thick pectorals cast shadows over the well-padded abdominals of his bare stomach. His fuzzy towel sat precariously low on his hips, your impudent stare couldn’t help but trace the damp brown curls that trailed down from his navel. 

“They’re not yours,” you disputed, balling the soft panties in your fist and tucking your arms behind your back in a juvenile effort to hide them from him. 

Only once his face was doused in the silver light from the window could you make out his features; lids hung low over dark eyes, goading lips in a stern curl under his beard. 

“Yeah, they are,” he challenged, low voice oozing scorn. A shrinking foot away from you, you felt the heat of him radiating out from him, licking at your skin with warm little tongues. “They were a gift.” 

Your brows knit together as you endeavoured to stand your ground, tilting your head back so that you could glower up at him. You wrestled with yourself for any defences and found none. Nothing to say for yourself, no excuse to muster, no dispute to mount. 

“They were not a gift,” was all you said, puerile as you were. 

“Then they’re a fine,” he grunted, smirk fading, reaching a sturdy arm towards and around you. 

His indignant hand gripped your bicep, reeling it out from behind your back and pulling it towards him with absurd ease. You resisted – attempted to, at least – but any resilience in your arm was quick to falter, and he presented your balled fist palm-up like you had offered the prize to him of your own volition. 

Skittish eyes darted from your hand to his steely lour, you imagined yourself flipping a coin. 

Admit defeat; relinquish your cotton sin to its new owner, embolden him with your acquiescence, and find a way to live with the knowledge of their presence in his pocket. Or, better yet – snatch your knickers in a tight fist and scurry into the night, throw them into the woodburner when you get home, and pretend none of it had ever happened. 

Landed on tails. You impulsively yanked your fist from his grip, ducked past him with a hop and a skip, before bolting on your shaky legs towards his bedroom door. 

But as if he had readily anticipated that very move, predictable as you were, his thick arms had snatched you up before you had even noticed your capture. You squeaked in dispute, his arms like pythons constricted around you so tightly that they forced a desperate mewl from your throat. He riveted you firmly against his chest, tips of your toes barely grazing the hardwood beneath you.

Jaw pressed to the side of your head, his breathing was warm and strained against the burning shell of your ear.

“You want them back,” he rumbled, the barbarity in his voice sending cold terror down the nape of your neck. “You wear ‘em.”

Sipping quick and shallow breaths, you didn’t dare wriggle or buck in defiance of him. Not this time. There was a threat in his tone, ferine yet forthright, oozing from his throat like molten iron.

“Y-” you stuttered dizzily, heart thundering in your ears. “You want me to put them on?”

“Uh-huh,” he answered, cocksure, the vibration of his frayed voice prickled in your skin.  

He released you, then, and you dropped to your bare feet with a quiet thud. Fist clenched tightly around your ball of cotton, you sucked in a quivering breath before daring to move.

He crossed his arms imperiously, sniffed gruffly, already impatient. “Put ‘em on.” 

You nervously unfurled the white floral fabric from between your fingers. Checking them briefly to ensure you didn’t put them on back-to-front, you spread the waistband, and began to lean forward. 

“Other ones off first,” he groused, and you blinked at him over your shoulder. 

“I’m-” you began, cutting yourself off with a swallow as you meekly turned to face him. Warm blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks. “I haven’t got any on.”

You swore a smirk tugged at the corner of his ever-severe mouth, but he simply let a hoarse breath out through his nose. Letting your confession float unchallenged in the turgid air between you. 

“You’re a real troublemaker,” he chided, through gritted teeth. “Aren’t you.”

“I’m not,” you retorted, feeble and unpersuasive.

“No?” He sneered. “You break into my house in that pathetic little dress and no panties on, and you wouldn’t call that making fuckin’ trouble?”

“I-”

“Put them on.”

His order was as hard and piercing as a bullet, and it turned your blood runny as water, flooding hot into the most illicit parts of you.

Made obsequious, you followed his command. Bent forward and stepped your first toe through the leg of your panties, delicately placing your foot back to the floor, then followed the other. 

You drew careful air through wet lips as you shimmied the thin fabric up your thighs, forced to lift the slippery hem of your nightie as you adjusted them around your hips, a gentle snap as you flick the elastic of the hem to fix it over your unmarred cheek. You winced as the gusset sat flush with your pussy, cringing at the knowledge they had already been worn – they were dry, now, at least, no longer sodden with lust and sweat. Satisfied with their positioning, you floated the thin skirt back down to cover them, stroking your hips to settle the fabric. 

John stood across from you with his wide hand over his mouth, thumb and forefingers rubbing his cheeks as if releasing some tension in his grinding jaw. The rigid muscles of his arms strained and twitched under his ruddy skin. Tension visible from where you stood. 

With a huff, he straightened his spine, and your stare jumped to the long weight under his towel. Dawned on you that he wore nothing underneath it. Suddenly felt light-headed.

He grunted. “Show ´em to me.”

Your lips parted just slightly, toes curled, you obliged him. With impish fingers you clutched the lacy hem of your slip, coaxing it upward, you folded it into pleats in your fists. Up, up, up. The cool of the air between your legs was almost a relief. 

He inched forward. Closer to you. 

“Turn around.”

Sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, and worried for a moment you might chew it off. With your skirt hitched up, you spun around slowly on the tips of your toes until your nose was a few inches from his dresser. 

You felt his warm breathing on the top of your head, he was behind you. Sandwiched you between his body and his chest-of-drawers. Your only hope of escape was to do what you were told. 

With his thumb he grazed the hem of your panties where it sat against your disfigured cheek, and the sudden sting made you twitch.

“S’that hurt?” He asked roughly, and for a delirious moment you thought you might have heard some tenderness in his tone. 

You nodded flimsily. “Yes.” 

“Mh,” he grunted, whole hand ghosting over the sore skin as if to feel the texture of your wound on his palm. “Didn’t teach you a thing, did it.” 

“What was it s’posed to teach me,” you breathed, careful with your words. 

His paw raked over your side, fixing at your hip. “To stay the fuck away.”

“I can–” You panted, tongue heavy in your mouth, “I can go away. I can go.” 

His domineering hands were at your waist, the hem of your little dress scooped up with them. 

“Not now, you won’t.” 

Your stomach turned to lead. 

Suddenly possessed by the skittish need to bolt, you lurched to the side to un-wedge yourself from between him and the dresser – let out a squeal when he predictably ensnared you with leviathan arms. He wrangled you like cantankerous livestock, growling as he wrestled you until your back landed against the drawers. 

“Mister–” You yelped tightly, all air squeezed out of you by his restraint.

“Play stupid games, girl,” he snarled, “Y’win stupid prizes.” 

You whimpered, blinking up at him through fluttering lashes, a hair's breadth away from you. His eyes were almost sinister, pinned to you, inky black pools blown wide in the darkness. Predatory. 

“I’m sorry—” you squeaked, flustered and winded. 

Almost cracked a smirk. “Too late for that.”

Even as he threatened you, you were helplessly magnetised to him. His harsh glare oozed hatred and hunger and it made your heart buzz like a bee trapped in the cage of your ribs. He pinned you forcefully to his chest-of-drawers, a brass knob pressed into your spine, and like a broken filly your resistance turned to butter. Unctuous and supple. 

You weren’t certain whether he had sensed your capitulation, or if he simply steamrolled ahead in his blind paroxysm whether you liked it or not. His titanic hands had you by the thighs, and he jounced you up, propping you up on the very edge of a drawer that stuck out a mere inch from the dresser. You chirped as the hard wooden edge cut into your raw bottom – hurt less, somehow. Distracted. 

He kept your thighs jammed tightly together by his legs, and used a single hand to cuff both of your wrists, pinned them to your sternum. 

Your vision was blurry, skin burning so hot you could sear something on it – you looked down, and his towel had been shirked from his hips, cock landed heavy on your belly. 

Heavy, the operative word – you could see the flesh of your belly pillowing out around its trunk, thick and lengthy, shaft leading down to a bed of dark curls at the base of his stomach. Your throat swelled shut as you stared at it, dizzy at the sight, as he hooked two fingers into the waistband of your knickers.

He yanked the front of your panties down with impatience, unveiling your mound and making the taut elastic cut into the flesh of your hips. Didn’t pull them off all the way, though, only allowed himself enough room to feed his cock through the gap between your cunt and the gusset of your underwear.  

The lips of your pussy spread like petals as he wedged his cock between them, and your breath lodged in your throat – but he didn’t pierce you with it, not at that angle. The aperture between your cunt and thighs was tight, tight enough for him to gain traction, and it made you whimper. 

Only once the round head of his cock was buried in the valley of your pussy did you realise how slick you were. Mortifyingly so. Your syrup had pooled there, undisturbed until he split you open, and now you painted his shaft with it. 

He cracked a proud smile. Canines caught the glint of moonlight. His breathing turned ragged and you felt it on your open lips, sucking down the hot air he exhaled, and it made you feel drunk. 

“Feral little thing, ain’t ya?” He growled, grinding his cock out of the slit of your thighs before driving it back in, the friction of his shaft against your clitoris made your eyes flutter shut.

You only let out a little mewl in reply, trapped against the hard dresser that shook and clattered with every movement. He fucked the fissure between your thighs and cunt in earnest, and it was somehow embarrassing; that he refused to grant you the dignity of fucking you properly, of surfeiting your starved cunt with even an ounce of real attention. He gripped his cock by the base of his shaft and guided it into the slim gap, offering you only the chafing of his iron-hard length against your pebbled clitoris as he rutted.

It was barely satisfying, but it made you twitch and shiver with a neglected pleasure – just enough to turn you syrupy sweet, not enough to truly sate the little creature in you that put you in this very predicament. You tried to tighten your thighs, firmer than they were already, in the desperate hope that it might augment the pressure of his cock burnishing your slit, might drive it in at the right angle to break into you. 

But it wasn’t about you. Your enjoyment was inconsequential to him. 

This was your punishment. 

You could tell he approached the zenith of his own pleasure as his breathing became frayed and arrhythmic, and his thrusts unsteady – he stilled, large fist gripping his cock, and while his blunt head was still tunnelled into your knickers, he began to shuck his dick from its base, jerking off into the gap. 

It was mortifying – besides the denigration itself, of having him masturbate himself with you – the downright pitiful desperation you were dripping with. Coating his cock in it and yet remaining ignored. The tingles of an orgasm fluttered around you like a butterfly you could not catch, coiled up and unwinded over and over with every inward and outward rake of his shaft. 

You had no freedom to move while you were entangled with him; legs pinned shut and feet dangling off the ground, hands manacled to your chest so tightly your fingertips went cold. You had no option but to take what little he gave you. 

He let out a stifled groan, and you gasped when you realised he was coming — you watched his face as he finished himself, as you felt his come pump into the gusset of your panties, filling up the gap between your lips as he chased a few final ruts. You felt his cock jolt with the aftershocks of his climax, and he rested the entirety of his weight against you, forcing the rest of the air out of your feverish lungs. His jaw was viciously tight, huffing through his nose like a bull, and his squinting blue eyes were glued to you. Lucent with spite and a potent satisfaction. 

“Y-you–”

“Don’t make a damn fuss,” he muttered wryly, short-winded.

You whined as he tugged his cock from between your thighs, returning your knickers to their chaste position with a snap of the elastic over your mons.   

“You shouldn’t have – have done that–”

He all but snorted at that, as he stepped back from you – let you fall to your feet from where he had jammed you against the drawers. Kept your hands shackled together, though. “What else did you come here for, then, eh?”

My panties stayed unspoken, because it would have been a lie. 

You flinched when he raised his free hand, but he only grazed your jaw with his thumb. “Wanted a fuck, did you?”

Your head nodded itself despite your lack of instruction. Subconscious. Too humiliating to confirm of your own will. 

“Ain’t gonna happen,” he grunted, as he finally released your cuffed hands, dropping down to pick up the towel he had left in a pile on the floor. 

You moaned, rubbing your tender wrist, light-headed after the blustering outburst. Felt his come between your folds, slippery and hot, it escaped through the groin of your knickers and ran down the inside of your thigh. 

“Why not,” you whinged, quietly, as though hopeful he wouldn’t hear it. 

“Gotta earn it,” he jeered. “I ain’t rewarding your fuckin’ behaviour.” 

You wouldn’t tell him even this was a reward, in itself. The frustration was blistering hot, thumping in your temples. “I hate you.” 

“I bet,” he snorted, as he fixed his towel around his waist once again. “G’on. Go home.”

You scowled at him, lips curled and brows knitted tight. You wanted to throw something at him. 

“Fine,” you griped, as you reached under your dress to pull down your defiled knickers. 

“Don’t you dare,” he snapped. “You keep ‘em on and you walk in ‘em.” 

Your jaw went slack. “Are you serious?”

“Does it look like I’m jokin’?” 

It didn’t. Not a bit. He wore that same rigid face that sunk in his features every time he scolded you, lips in a line under his dense beard, brows flat and heavy over his squinting eyes. Somehow made more severe while he was without a shirt, you could see every ireful twitch of the worn muscles that rippled under his sun-baked skin. He could hurt you worse, if he wanted to. The thought makes you sweat. 

“Fine,” you groaned, again, and you impudently rammed him with your shoulder as you stormed past him and out of his bedroom door. 

You heard his low chortle on your way out, but he didn’t call out for you. No more snide remarks. You bashfully returned to the dark study, picked up your father’s chore coat, and slipped out the same window you had broken into. 

The walk back was sticky and uncomfortable. Suddenly you felt like buzzing insects were hovering around you, landing on your skin, hoping to poke in and suck you dry. The baying coyotes sounded closer than before, just over the hill. The moonlit air wasn’t cool enough to mollify your temper. The wheaten grass was sharp and splintery under your bare feet. The come in your gusset was viscid and gooey, glued between your thighs with every step. 

Yet, you were grotesquely proud of it. Wearing the evidence that Mr Price wasn’t as mighty as he purported to be. He didn’t ride a high horse. He came in your panties and made you walk in it, as a punishment. 

Truly depraved man. You knew that confidently, now. If he thought he had deterred you, he was sorely mistaken. 

You didn’t bother being quiet when you finally returned home after a slow and sulky walk through the night. Dumped your jacket on the floor by the back door rather than hanging it on its hook, trudged up the crying stairs and shut your door with a clank once you got to your bedroom. You tore the linen sheet off your bed and left it astray, before falling immediately into your mattress, flat on your stomach. 

You fell straight to sleep.

a/n: far be it from me to insert a political statement into my cowboy porn, but as a non-american depicting a sanitised rural USA, i feel the need to make clear my stance on everything happening over there (and the ripple effects it is having on the rest of the world): fuck trump and all his nazi partymen, fuck everyone who voted for him, and fuck every non-american who would have if they could. if you are supportive of or ambivalent about the oligarch-cum-drinking, bold-faced-fascist ideology of he and his ilk, just know that every breath you take is a fucking waste of oxygen. and if you're upset by that sentiment then fuck you too. no middle ground on this! love ya 

[writingoddess1125]

The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you. Pt. 2

Due to popular demand I have a part two for you guys!

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk xFemreader

Healthy Mix of Angst and Fluff

Support me on Ko-Fi

Part 1 <- -> Part 3

Buggy

The crew was quick to follow orders, Cabaji grabbing you as others grabbed your sons. Dragging you from the restaurant you called a home and out onto the streets, screamed fill the air as the village was being ripped apart. Your boys crying out in fear as the crew harshly brought you onto the ship you once were apart of.

You yelped as you were thrown into Buggy's room. Your boys being tossed in as well, you quickly grabbed Dee and Bee and brought them to your chest. Running your hands through their hair as they sobbed against you, shaking like a leaf and terrified.

"Ssshh it's okay my loves it's okay" you whisper trying to soothe them, holding them tightly to try and ward away the bad dream. After a few hours they finally fell asleep, You carefully rolling up and placing them on Buggy's large bed. It wouldn't be best to let them sleep in your arms since they were fairly large and when asleep could kick and roll. You couldn't risk injury if you were going to escape with the twins.

You tucked them into the big stripped bed and sighed- Surrounded by more of this circus shit made them look way more like Buggy then you cared to admit. Smoothing Dee and Bee wild blue locks with your hand you sighed heavily. Trying to come up with a plan to escape- but the plotting was short lived as the bedroom door opened.

Buggy stared at you and then glanced at the boys as they slept soundly in his bed. He was holding a large tray and set it down on the side table, meeting your eyes as he picked up a fork and took a bite from each both and even a bite of the bread, before taking a seat clearly wanting to show it was safe to eat and feed the children. You looked at the food it was 3 healthy servings of pasta with fresh bread and 3 drinks, 2 milks and a ale. You looked at him in question but you didn't dare voice anything. Instead gently shaking the twins awake-

"Eh? Mom?..." Dee mumbled as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Dinner is here" You say calmly, holding a bowl out to Dee who gently took it in his tiny hands before waking up Bee with a bit more force and doing the same. Splitting the bread in half and giving each half to your sons to make sure they had full bellies.

You ate your own food, Watching as the twins hungrily ate there like they hadn't had a meal before, havjng to make sure they didnt mess up the nice bed. However you kept glancing back at Buggy, feeling his eyes on you.

He sat across the room stull, watching you closely as you wiped their faces clean with your dress and handing them their drinks and even taking your own ale and sipping it. You saw Bee wat hibg Buggy closely, the two staring at each other silently.

"What are you looking at Old Man?-" Bee snapped as he glared at Buggy. You snapping your finger quickly at him.

"Attitude-" You hissed in warning. However heard a shuffle to see Buggy snorting a laugh and turning away to giggle-

"Damn these really are my Kids- I was at least 90% sure before but now it's 100%!" He laughed, actually Wiping the tears from his face.

"Mom what is he talking about?" Dee questioned first, raising a brow at the Clown in their room.

"Yeah and whats with hi-" You smacked your hand over your sons mouth. Knowing that the following question would lead to a fight you didn't have the strength for.

"Boys this is your father... Buggy the Clown. He's a Pirate Captian"

"Our Dads a clown-" Bee deadpanned as his face looked at you in what can only be described as confused horror. You sighing mentally by this, as Dee stared at Buggy suspiciously.

"How do we know?-" Dee started, But Buggy pulled the hat from his head and bandana to show his blue locks that were identical to their.

"Our Dads a Clown!?" Bee said again this time

"I'm a porate clown-" Buggy shot back as he frowned at the boy. The two locking in gaze of equal stubbornness and attitude.

Dee started to say"Is that why you took us?" But was cut off gloriously by Bee"If you're our dad then you suck! Why did you grab mom by her hair and make her cry!" He proclaimed, Jumping up on the bed and pointing to Buggy angrily. You urging the boy to sit down, But Buggy's gaze softened.

"I apologize- I didn't see it was her or else I would have never raided you town. Instead just picked you three up to take with me" He admitted calmly. The seemed to take the wind from Bee's sails as he sat back down- You also surprised to hear Buggy apologize or be so vulnerable.

"I want to have you three here with me and be apart of my children's life" Buggy started as he stared at you- You started to protest but he held up a hand.

"60 Days, that's all I ask. If in 60 days you don't want me in their lives I'll drop you and the boys off at a Marine Base with some berry. Enough to be comforble for the rest of your lives"

It was a good deal- a damn good deal. It's not like you had a berry to your name or a place to return to. That and he genuinely seemed interested in the boys, you gave a defeated sigh.

"Alright... 60 days- then we will talk from there" Buggy smiled at hearing you agreeing to this. Excitement shining in his eyes as he jumped up from his seat.

"Perfect! You all rest here. I'll leave and bring some supplies for you all" Buggy said calmly as he stood up and quickly left, a grin plastered on his face as he left you.

You should have known that Buggy was planning something. For the next 3 days it was like he turned the ship into a child's dream. There was suddently a absurd about of toys, sweets, every game imaginable too seemed to have suddently appeared. Buggy all to happy to shower the twins in anything they asked for, played any game they wanted.

You inwardly sighed as you watched the twins start to warm up to Buggy, More like clinging to him. Bee seemingly the most interested in him while Dee seemed to just love sailing. Having to be coaxed down from the crows nest were he would hide all day. At the mess hall however is were they fit in the best- It was like Buggy had cloned himself the two perfect best friends, aka himself.

Dee had taken to keeping his hair up due to his time in the crows nest and also had become more confident- pushing his brother back whenever he messed with him a bit too much- As for Bee it was like Buggy 2.0- Loud, flashy and ready to find trouble. It had been only 3 days but so much had changed, Currently it being evening dinner time.

Sitting next to Buggy in the mess hall, who had made it a habit of keeping you close you glared as your son then Buggy who was just laugjing "Benny (Y/L/N) get your monkey ass here right now!" You yelled as you saw your son running down the tables of the mess hall. Singing a made of sea shanty that the rest of the freaks were actually drinking and singing along to.

"Let the boy have some fun (Y/N)! It's not like he's hurting anyone- Besides what's the worse that can happen! Stop with the snooty attitude" Buggy proclaimed with a laugh, you saw Dee get a mischievous look in his eye before slipping under the table. You give a sarcastic smile, knowing your twins all too well.

"Fine then, I won't be snooty for the next hour whatever they damage you gotta clean" You proposes with a smile. He laughed and nodded.

"Deal! Finally now we can have some fu-"

And like a symphony of madness all hell broke lose. Dee had popped put from under the table and grabbed Bee's foot nid step. The singing child falling into a massive bowl of mashed potatos which managed to spray everywhere- coating all the people at the table in potatos and the floor which made a few Crewmates who had been walking slip and slam into tables flinging more food and creating more mess paired with a hunk of cake landing right in Buggy's face. Wiping the frosting as he watched the two boys make a run from the mess hall cackling like two Imps.

"Boys!!" He yelled, trying to wipe more of the pink frosting from his face. You smiled and handed him a napkin.

"Have fun Captian!~" You said with a grin and patted his shoulder as Buggy sat there red faced and glaring at you half heartedly. As if taking your cue, you got up and left. Giggling as you hear Buggy snap at some crewmates to grab something to help clean the mess.

Deciding to take the time for yourself you went to the main deck. Leaning against the rails as you watched the dark waves of the ocean and the setting sun. You couldn't lie and say you didn't miss the ocean, or the time to yourself. You stood there watching as the sun set and plunged the ship into darkness, the lanterns of the ship turning on as well as the ship seemed to be sailing in darkness.

"Enjoying your free time?" A deep voice snapped you from your thoughts. Seeing Buggy walking towards you, his face washed of makeup and hair in a ponytail. Having clearly just bathed after getting the mess hall cleaned.

"Yeah, I forgot how nice it is being on this ship.. How are the boys?" Buggy smiled at hearing you enjoying yourself before shrugging.

"Got them washed up and put them to bed.....They seem to like me" He boated, seemingly proud he had formed such a strong bond.

"That they do" You reply. Watching as he put his hands in his pockets a bit awkwardly, that tough Captian Facade crumbling a bit under his own anxiety.

"(Y/N) Why did you leave?... Was it me? Were you ashamed of me or-" He started, the back of his hand brushing against his nose as the enxiety slammed into his chest.

"What?.. No that's not why I left Buggy- I was scared. How the hell was I suppose to go through pregnancy on a ship? Hell the labor?! That was 36 hours to give birth to both of them!" Buggy winced at the thought, you leaned against the railing and stared at him.

"It was the fact that I couldn't predict how you would react and no idea how to raise a baby here. So in a village with at least some stability seemed like the best option- Even if it ment having to do it alone"

You admit, Buggy messing with his gloved hands. Sadness bleeding through his gaze as he sighed.

"I suppose- I can see your point... but I would have put everything on hold if I knew-" Buggy admitted, before rubbing the back of his head a bit hesitantly.

"You know- We only got 60 days and I've been wanting to take a vacation. Drop off the crew maybe for a bit and I know this really nice island" Buggy said casually. Your eyebrows raising at hearing this- He wanted to stop pirating just for you and the twins?

"What?-" You started but he cut you off quickly. "I mean it would only be a little bit of course- unless something urged me to stay a bit longer. However I think being on the open ocean can be damaging for super long term- I mean the meals can cause scurvy and who knows what else" He quickly justified, even at this distance you could see his ears turning red. You couldn't help but giggle at this, which caught his attention quickly.

"I'd like that Buggy.. But I don't want to take you away from what you love" you say, Watching Buggy take a hesitant step towards you.

"Who knows... 60 days can quickly turn into eternity.. if you want it to.. and i lost what i loved once- Ill never let that happen again" He said locking eyes with you which made you smile brighter.

Shanks

It had been 3 weeks since Shanks arrived- and it had been one journey, The man clearly loved to be a father. Willing to do anything for Vivian, her having the powerful pirate wrapped around her little finger and not even knowing it.

Shanks having let his crew take the time for essentially a vacation on his dime while ge stayed in your guestroom. Excited every morning to wake up and play with his daughter. He bought her so many toys, a chest full of pretty dresses, a giant stuffed monkey and a play wood sword since she had been so interest in his.

She had even taken to tying her favorite green ribbon on his sword since "It looks pretty" and he didn't have the will power to take it off. So for the most part, it had been complete and total bliss.

It was early morning when you heard some loud Noises coming from the kitchen area of your home- Getting up from bed and put on your robe and walked to see what all the noise was.

You stood in the kitchen with a raised eyebrow, the only word fitting this situation was- Hilarious. There sat Shanks, sat on the floor with his back leanes against the oven holding a old muffin. His eyes were covered in a thick layer of green glittery eyeshadow (from your makeup bag) hot red lipstick that was sneered on other parts of his face. Some bows randomly scattered in his red hair. His coat that usually covered his missing arm dropped over your daughter who was still in her baby blue tight gown and she was dragging behind her as she adding things to the spread on the floor. A bag of sugar, some water, a scattering of teabags and whatever had been in the fridge- including half eaten sandwiches and cupcakes which Shanks was currently chewing on.

"Starlight, I don't think there is anyway you can make the wate- I mean tea any sweeter" He said calmly, Watching Vi try to pour more sugar into her little China set with her chubby hands. Shanks cringing a bit at this as she poured him a cup and handed it to him.

"See! Now it's perfect!" She chimed and giggled loudly. He gave a smile as he set aside his muffin and sipped the tea, trying to suppress the cringe from the unholy amount of sugar that was mixed with water and a hint of a poor teabag.

"It's delicious Baby Girl- Fantastic" He choked out, working through a smile as he forced himself to take another sip. You couldn't help bit to laugh, which brought the attention of both Red Heads.

"Mommy!" Vivian chimed loudly running towards you still wearing Shank's cloak and you scooped her up carefully.

"I must say Shanks, you look fabulous" You said with a smile. Shanks Grinning up at you as he sat on the floor.

"I always thought I'd look good in green" He said, Gesturing to the sloppy eyeshadow. Rolling himself up to his feet as he smiled down at you.

"By the way are you ready for today?" You raised a brow-

"Oh boy what do you have planned?" Shanks only gave a wide smile before grabbing a box from the kitchen table and holding up a lovely yellow sundress for you and a similar one for Vivian.

"Fun day out!"

Shanks hadnt beem kidding about a fun day, staring with a lovely resturant on the island, sailing, having in a meadow and then time out at the park the sun started to set. Shanks held Vivian who was passed out against him, walking back to your home. The two of you talking about the time you two where together in the past.

"Thank you (Y/N).." He said softly, Smiling as he watched the sun set and the two of you walked up hill.

"For what?" He smiled brightly at you "Making me the happiest man in the world" You couldn't help but blush at hearing this. Looking away bashfully as you came up to your home, Seeing a man standing there a bit awkwardly.

"Yasopp! Glad you stopped by, This is (Y/N) and my darling daughter Vivian. She's asleep right now but I'm sure she'd love to meet ya"

Shank smiled brightly at seeing his fellow crewmate. However the look on Yasopp face said otherwise.

"Its lovely to meet you (Y/N)... but Captian- we have to talk.." He said softly, Shanks frowning at the tone he gave before gently passing Vivian to you.

"I'll be in a sec" He said, nodding you quickly head inside to get Vivian ready for bed. Yasopp and him talked outside, Shanks looked angry. Staring at the letter and running his hand through his hair clearly stressed. You finished cleaning Vivians face and got her in her PJs, tuckering her in for the night. In the hallway you could hear the should of bottles shifting, turning to see Shanks in the kitchen grabbing the bottle of whiskey you kept on the top shelf- his face twisted in anger as he plopped on the couch.

"You have to leave.. don't you-" You finally blurted out, watching him open the bottle with his teeth and take a sip. His eyes shiny with unshed tears, he nodded soberly as he took a hard swig of the drink.

"Shanks you can't finally meet her and just leave her life-" You stressed, anger bubbling in your chest as you stared at him. He sat slunched in the chair a swirling of different emotions in his eyes.

"They need my help.. and I can't risk it (Y/N).... I can't risk them finding out about you and Vi... they would kill you both" He whispered, shock slamming into you. Your eyes drifting to Vivian's room were she laid sleeping.

"...How long will you be gone" You whispered finally, sitting down on your sofa sadly.

"I don't know..." He whispered, defeat written on his face. Holding the bottle out to you, which you took and started to sip before passing it back.

"When do you leave?" Shanks took another heavy swig of the drink and held it out to you. "Tomorrow morning..." You nod at this- Taking another sip of the whiskey.

"...I-Is she going to hate me?" Shanks whispered, Looking up at were he knew Vi was. You shook your head "She doesn't have it in her heart to hate.." You said softly. He nodded at this and messed with the ribbon she tied on his sword, staring at it hard.

"I love her (Y/N).... so much it hurts.." His voice cracked. But he instead stood up, taking a heavy breath.

"I'm going to get some sleep... you should as well" He said softly, Turning and walking back to the guest room. Leaving you alone with the whiskey bottle, as you put it back in its rightful place. You could have sworn you heard hushed sobs... but left them be and went to cry in your own bed as well.

In the morning, the nice breakfast was made. Shanks feeding Vivian her oatmeal and letting her talk his ear off, you knew he needed this moment. Needed to have this with her. Once breakfast was finishes the three of you started the walk to the docks, Vivian holding Shanks hand as they talked about the pretty ocean.

Walking to the docks he saw the ship being loaded up, Vivian staring in awe at the massive vessel and giggled at the sight of all the men who stared at her and gave friendly waves. Shanks taking a deep breath to look at you both. Hurt shining in his eyes as he swallowed a hard lump in his throat. Kneeling down he looked at Vivian, his hand cupping her chubby cheek as he took a shaky breath holding back tears clearly. "Princess, I've got to go for a while.."

"But why?... you just got here?"

"I know baby girl- But, see there is this trouble maker- His name is Luffy. Think of him as your big brother, he needs my help.. And I don't want to put you and your Mommy in danger while I go get him. So I have to leave-"

He said, Biting his bottom lip for a second as he let a few tears roll down his cheek. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a solid gold coin- it was quite large and he carefully handed it to Vivian. Her little fingers holding the big coin and touching the detailed design thay decorated it, his Jolly Roger.

"But I promise I'll be back.. but until I do- you have to keep this with you. It's special, it will protect you from Pirates- And when I come back, and I promise I will. I'll trade you that coin for your ribbon back okay?"

He said softly, watching Vivian smile up at him at the promise.

"Okay Daddy.." She said softly before jumping and hugging around his neck. He held her tightly, wrapping his arm around her as if he didn't want to let go.

"Captian-" Yassop said softly, Shanks nodding and carefully standing up. Handing Vivian to you a bit reluctantly, Vivian own eyes starting to water. You held her close as tears rolled down your own cheeks. Shanks leaning in and kissing the tears on your face and one gingerly on your lips.

"I'll see you two again, I swear" He said softly, Stepping back as he followed after his crew. The crew somber like their Captian as he boarded, yelling out commands to set sail. Looking back as the ship began to leave the harbor, Waving at the two of you. Vivian waving back gently as tears rolled down her chubby cheeks clutching the coin close to her chest.

You and Vivian standing on the docks as you watched the ship sail and disapear over the horizon. You sniffles and wiped your eyes of the tears you didn't know had still been running down your cheeks.

Your daughter looking at you and wiping your tears, giving you a smile just like Shanks "Don't worry Mommy.. Daddy said he'd be back"

Mihawk

You stood in your tiny kitchen, rubbing your temple as the days situation settled on your bones. Your son standing next to you chopping vegetables silently, Clearly ignoring the elephant in the room.

"Alucare- Do you want to-"

"No" He cut you off quickly, quickly cutting down on a carrot like it had wronged him. You sighed at this setting the kettle on the stove to start a pot of tea. Knowing damn well what was coming- right on cue there was a knock to the door.

Turning you went to let in the Warlord, he looked like a kicked puppy. Awkwardly standing there at your door with his hat removed, his eyes glancing up at you hesitantly.

"(Y/N)..." He said softly, surprising you that he had even remembered your name. He stepped to the side, inviting him into your home and guiding him to your dining room were he took a seat at the kitchen table.

You took a seat as well, Alucare not turning from preparing the vegetables. A awkward silence following the trio as there was only the sound of chopping.

"Mihawk.. It's been a while" You finally speak, the Warlord nodding in agreement. Silence falling over you two again.

"Oh for God's sake. Alucare sit down please, we are going to get this out" You said, Hearing the shuffle of your son moving from his spot and sitting next to you. You couldn't help but stare in awe- The two sitting across from each other made it seem like they were looking at some odd mirror, they looked almost identical except for the age and minor changes.

"Mihawk this is Alucare, your son. As we can clearly can see. Alucare this is your father Dracule Mihawk"

You introduce, swallowing thickly as the two continued to stare at each other. Silence falling again over you all, Mihawk sighed and rubbed his temple. Turning his eyes away from this odd sort of staring contest.

"Alucare.. That's a good name.. How old are you?" Mihawk asked, staring at his child for a moment before Alucare looked away.

"I'm 16..." He said softly, Mihawk nodding at this before his eyes landed on you.

"How come you didn't tell me- I would have been here, helped you. I have a home and more" He asked, his eyebrows betraying him in pure confusion and he frowned. You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck.

"I was scared- How would it look like if some random person claimed to have some famed Warlords child.." You mumbled, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal. "Besides it wasn't even until after are alleyway escapades that I understood who you were-"

"I see..." Mihawk sighed as he stared at Alucare again, who seemed to grow a bit uncomforble at the direction of this conversation.

"Alucare do you wish to ask something of your father?-" You encouraged. Wanting to create a olive branch between the two.

"What is there me to ask? It's not like it's a secret that we are related or his reputation. The only thing I would wonder is how you found out about us-" Alucare said a bit dismissively, you felt genuine surprise at this. He had never shown anyone disrespect before until now-

"There were rumors of you that traveled to a Marine Base I was at- how a child looked like the famed Mihawk... eyes and all" Mihawk clarified. Alucare only rolling his matching yellow eyes at this, standing up from his seat.

"I'll be dismissing myself. Thanks for the talk" He said calmly, walking out the back door and slamming it shut behind him. You sighed and looked to Mihawk

"Hes normally not like that, I don't know what to say" You admit. But the Warlord just stood up with a understanding nod.

"Hes angry... that I understood.. I'll return" He said before following out the back door as well.

Standing by the grove of trees next to the house Alucare let the cool blade of the knives brush over his fingers, sighing as he quickly released the blade at lightning speed at the carved target on the old tree hitting bulls eye. Alucare walking to retrieve the lone blade and repeat the process.

"Impressive shot-" The deep voice only belonging to Mihawk sounded behind the teen. Alucare glancing back at the man as he resumed his position and went back to throwing his blade.

"Thanks I suppose-" Alucare mumbled as he continued to task. Mihawk sighing softly as he glanced at the sky.

"What is the true reason you resent me- One that you don't wish to express with your mother around" He finally asked, staring at the sky. Alucare faltering in his movements for a moment, keeping the blade in his hands for a moment.

"If you had been anyone else she wouldn't have had to suffer so much-" He admitted, his eyes showing a deep sadness as he sighed "I saw the way they looked at her, despite her smiling and ignoring it.. how she acted as a human shield for me. Because we share blood- How she would sit on the bed after working day and night to put that home over our head... how tired she was and then emotionally carying the brunt of people looking at her in either pity, fear otlr disgust for my sake"

He admitted, throwing the blade once again watching the blade stick deeply into the tree the handle being the only thing that showed. Mihawk quietly listened and clenched his hands.

"I understand... if I had known I would have protected her... I would have protected you- Nothing I can say can make up for 16 years of hardship... but I do apologize" Mihawk said, bowing his head gently.

Alucare looked at him silently for a moment. Looking away for a moment and went to grab the blade.

"...How do you sharpen a blade-" Alucare asked, In his own way accepting Mihawk apology and extending a form of communication. Mihawk gave a hint of a smile on his lips as he stepped forward.

"I can show you-"

Tag List-

For all the people who requested Pt. 2

@lunanight1021 @lolavegas20 @cuteastrash @thatcharmingmushroom @marsilis @thesadvampire @amecchii @zaphira-san @matronofthevoid @mothmans-left-nipple

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear, I hope you're doing well <3

Could you write the Arcane characters in a alternative AU. Where Reader and they were playing as their Arcane characters?

Maybe they are in an interview, answering questions about the relationship of their and Readers relationship.

And the cherry of the top: Reader and the Arcane character are together in real life. Like beeing married or getting in a relationship during she shot for season 1 / season 2.

If you have any questions, ask me ^-^

ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5142 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀᴜ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ! ꜱᴏ ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʙᴀᴋᴀɪ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ!! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ! ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴛᴏʀ!ᴀᴜ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ!!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

JAYCE

The camera light blinks red, signaling that the interview is live. You shift slightly in your seat, crossing one leg over the other as you glance at Jayce beside you. He looks effortlessly handsome, dressed in a sharp, casual blazer with his signature boyish grin already in place. His fingers drum lightly against his knee, a telltale sign that he’s trying to contain his excitement—or nerves.

The interviewer, a cheerful woman in a sleek black dress, leans forward with an excited smile, the energy in the room electric with anticipation.

"Alright! We're here with Jayce Talis himself, and our lovely leading star, Y/N L/N!" she announces, her enthusiasm infectious. "You two have been the heart of Arcane, bringing Jayce and Y/N’s character to life in ways that fans cannot stop talking about. But what they really want to know is—what’s it like working together, especially since you’re a couple in real life?"

You glance at Jayce, raising a brow. He smirks, as if silently daring you to answer first.

"It's terrible," you deadpan, leaning toward the interviewer conspiratorially. "He steals my snacks on set. It’s honestly unbearable."

Jayce lets out a deep, hearty laugh, shaking his head as he dramatically throws his hands up. "Okay, okay—first of all, that's not true. I ask before I steal them."

"Do you, though?" You tilt your head, feigning deep thought, as if replaying all the times he’s casually reached into your snack stash without a second thought.

The interviewer bursts into laughter. "Oh, I can tell this is going to be fun!" She composes herself, still smiling. "So, no real set drama between you two?"

Jayce grins, stretching an arm along the back of your chair as he leans in slightly. "Nah, if anything, working together just makes it better. We have this natural rhythm, so even the heavy scenes feel easier to navigate. And, I mean, getting to kiss your real-life partner on screen? Not the worst job perk."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Yeah, except when we have to do, like, fifteen takes of the same kiss scene because somebody keeps messing up his lines."

Jayce places a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Hey, maybe I just wanted an excuse for extra takes!"

The interviewer gasps dramatically, eyes wide with faux shock. "Oh, so it was on purpose?"

Jayce shrugs, sending a cheeky wink toward the camera. "I plead the fifth."

You shake your head with a laugh, nudging him lightly. "This is what I deal with."

The interviewer grins. "Fans love your chemistry on screen, but was it ever hard to separate your characters' relationship from your real one?"

You hum, considering the question. "Not really? Jayce and I, our characters have their own arcs, and we’ve both been acting for years. So when we’re on set, we’re them. But once the cameras stop rolling…" You glance at Jayce, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’re just us."

Jayce nods, his gaze warm as he looks at you. "Yeah, exactly. Though, I won’t lie, there were a few intense scenes where I’d have to check in afterward—make sure we were good, y'know?"

You smile, reaching for his hand under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Always."

The interviewer watches the interaction, smiling softly. "That’s honestly so sweet. Now, I have to ask—what was the most difficult scene for you two to film together?"

Jayce exhales dramatically. "Okay, so there’s this scene—and I swear I still have nightmares about it—where Y/N's character had to slap me."

You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth as you nod. "Oh, yeah. That one."

The interviewer’s eyes light up. "Wait, tell me more!"

Jayce groans, running a hand down his face. "So, we rehearsed it a few times, and Y/N was so good at pulling back and making it look real without actually hurting me. But on the actual take, our director was like, 'Just go for it, make it believable!' and—well, I got decked."

You can’t help but laugh at the memory. "In my defense, it was believable."

"It was too believable!" Jayce exclaims, throwing his hands up while the interviewer cackles. "My cheek was stinging for, like, two hours! And the whole crew was trying so hard not to laugh."

You grin. "But hey, we got the shot in one take."

"At my expense," Jayce mutters, but his smile never falters.

The interviewer wipes at her eyes, still giggling. "That’s amazing. Okay, last question—who's the better actor?"

Without hesitation, you and Jayce both immediately point at each other.

"Her," Jayce says firmly.

"Him," you insist at the same time.

The interviewer gasps, clutching her chest. "A humble couple, I see!"

Jayce smirks, tapping his chin. "Or maybe just equally biased."

You nudge him again, shaking your head with a grin. "Fine, I’ll take that."

The interview wraps up soon after, the crew signalling that the cameras have stopped rolling. As the lights dim slightly, Jayce reaches for your hand again under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"That was fun," he murmurs, voice warm with affection.

You smile, tilting your head toward him. "Yeah. But you do steal my snacks, and we will talk about that later."

Jayce chuckles, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Looking forward to it, sweetheart."

And with that, the two of you walk off set, hand in hand, leaving the audience even more in love with your off-screen romance than ever before.

VIKTOR

The red carpet shimmered under the brilliance of flashing cameras, a sea of photographers, journalists, and excited fans stretching as far as the eye could see. The energy of the Arcane: Season 2 premiere was electric, a pulsating heartbeat of excitement and anticipation.

Y/N stood at the center of it all, draped in an ensemble that had already set social media ablaze. The way the fabric clung and cascaded, the subtle shimmer under the dazzling lights—it was impossible not to feel like royalty. The stylists had outdone themselves, but Y/N carried it effortlessly, exuding a natural elegance that made it seem as if they belonged in the center of all this grandeur.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed journalist from one of the top entertainment networks, smiled warmly as she extended the microphone. “Y/N, it’s such a pleasure to see you tonight! You were incredible in the first season—your performance was breathtaking. And, I have to say, your chemistry with Viktor’s actor was just electric. The world was obsessed. What was it like working with him again for Season 2?”

Y/N laughed softly, eyes instinctively flickering toward the other side of the carpet. Amid the throng of celebrities and flashing bulbs, they easily spotted him—Viktor. He stood slightly hunched, engaged in conversation with another reporter, his cane in hand as always. The crisp lines of his tailored suit hugged his frame in all the right ways, the dark fabric contrasting against the golden hues of the evening.

For a second, Y/N just watched him. The way he subtly adjusted his weight onto his cane. The way his lips curled into an amused smirk as he responded to a question. The way his expressive, golden-brown eyes flickered with an intelligence and warmth that had drawn them in from the very beginning—on-screen and off.

Then they snapped back to reality, offering the interviewer a knowing smile.

“Oh, he’s a dream to work with,” Y/N said smoothly, the warmth in their voice unmistakable. “He’s so incredibly dedicated to his craft—so much so that sometimes, I forget where the acting ends, and he begins. He brings so much depth and emotion to the character. There’s this unspoken trust between us, you know? It makes everything feel natural.”

The interviewer nodded enthusiastically, her grin widening. “That’s amazing to hear! And the fans absolutely loved your interactions last season. Do you feel that trust made the more intense scenes easier?”

Y/N was about to answer when a subtle shift in the energy of the crowd caught their attention. The murmurs grew, the camera flashes intensified—something was happening.

And then they felt him before they even saw him.

That familiar presence at their side. The faintest brush of fabric against their arm. The warm, smooth timbre of a voice they knew better than their own.

“I certainly hope so,” Viktor’s voice cut in smoothly, effortlessly slipping into the conversation as he came to stand beside them.

The crowd reacted instantly. The excited murmurs swelled into a buzz, camera shutters clicking furiously as fans and photographers alike scrambled to capture the moment.

Y/N turned slightly, tilting their head up to meet his gaze.

Viktor was already watching them, his smirk laced with quiet amusement. His tousled auburn hair, always slightly unruly despite his best efforts, caught the light just enough to make the red hues gleam. The sharp angles of his cheekbones were softened by the way his lips curved—subtle, teasing. He exuded a quiet confidence, the kind that was effortlessly disarming.

“Otherwise,” he continued, his golden eyes glinting with mischief, “I may have to reconsider our working relationship.”

The interviewer let out a delighted laugh. “And here he is! Perfect timing.”

Y/N arched a brow, playing along. “Oh? Is that a threat?”

Viktor’s smirk deepened as he shifted closer—just enough to make the cameras go wild.

“Not at all, můj drahý,” he murmured, voice dipping into something softer, something only for them. (My dear)

Then, with practiced ease, he slipped his hand onto their waist. The touch was light—too light, like a secret meant to be shared only between them. But the placement was unmistakable. Intentional. A quiet claim.

The reaction was immediate. The flashes of cameras doubled, the crowd erupting into cheers and scattered shouts.

The interviewer, clearly living for the moment, grinned at the two of them. “Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say your on-screen and off-screen dynamic is one of the best parts of this entire event.”

Viktor exhaled a chuckle, tilting his head slightly toward Y/N. “What do you think, láska?” (Love)

Y/N pretended to consider, eyes glinting as they met his gaze. “I think,” they said, letting the words stretch, “that you’re making me blush on live television.”

Viktor feigned innocence, though the amusement in his golden-brown eyes betrayed him. “Ah, but that is not acting, is it?”

The interviewer let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh, so the chemistry is real?”

Y/N gave a slow, knowing smile, fingers ghosting over Viktor’s where they rested against their waist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The moment hung between them, charged with that same tension that had captivated audiences in Arcane—but this wasn’t scripted. This wasn’t choreographed. This was them.

And then, as if sensing the perfect beat to end on, Viktor smirked and leaned in ever so slightly. Not quite a kiss, but enough for the fans to go feral. Enough to send social media into a meltdown.

With that, he slipped his hand into theirs, subtly guiding them forward as the interviewer let out a giddy laugh.

The cameras followed their every move as they disappeared further down the red carpet, leaving the internet in flames and the entire event abuzz.

And Y/N?

Y/N just squeezed his hand, heart thrumming in time with the chaos around them.

Because, scripted or not, there was no one else they’d rather share this stage with.

JAYVIK

The studio was buzzing with energy, bright lights illuminating the set as the cameras rolled. It was one of the many press junkets for Arcane’s latest season, and the cast had been tirelessly doing interviews all day. This one, however, was different. The interviewer smirked as they looked at the three actors seated together: Viktor’s actor, Jayce’s actor, and Y/N, who played an original character introduced in the show.

“So,” the interviewer started, leaning forward with an eager grin. “There’s been quite a bit of buzz about the three of you lately. Fans have been picking up on some… interesting chemistry.”

Jayce chuckled, leaning back in his chair with that signature confidence he exuded both on and off screen. “Oh? And what kind of chemistry would that be?”

Viktor, ever the picture of quiet amusement, tapped his cane lightly against the floor. “I believe they are referring to the rather rampant speculation regarding our… ‘off-screen dynamics,’” he mused, glancing at Y/N with a knowing look.

Y/N, who had been taking a sip of their water, nearly choked. “Oh, wow. We’re diving right in, huh?” They set their bottle down, laughing softly as they exchanged looks with their co-stars. “You know, this feels like a scene straight out of a rom-com,” they added, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” the interviewer grinned. “I mean, you can’t blame the fans! The three of you have been seen spending a lot of time together outside of filming. Dinners, events… even a certain candid photo of you two”—they gestured between Viktor and Jayce—“holding hands while Y/N was sandwiched between you both.”

Jayce gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, the perils of having affectionate friends.” He turned to Y/N with a teasing grin. “I told you that hiding between us wouldn’t stop the paparazzi. You can’t escape the spotlight, darling.”

“I was cold!” Y/N defended, throwing up their hands in mock frustration. “And both of you are unfairly warm. It’s like you’re living space heaters or something.”

Viktor hummed in agreement, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “They do tend to leech our body heat, don’t they?”

Y/N rolled their eyes playfully. “You two are just trying to make me sound like a helpless stray animal.” They crossed their arms with a smirk, trying to hold back a laugh.

The interviewer, clearly enjoying the banter, leaned forward. “So, no official confirmation on this adorable ‘dynamic,’ then?”

Jayce shot Y/N a playful look, the intensity in his eyes just enough to keep the joke lighthearted. “What do you think, darling? Should we confirm, or let them keep guessing? The suspense could be delicious.”

Y/N pretended to consider for a moment, tapping a finger against their chin in mock seriousness. “Hmm. I don’t know. Viktor, what do you think?” They turned to him, their voice a little more teasing, a hint of warmth in their gaze.

Viktor smirked, his dark eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. He tilted his head slightly, tapping his cane against the floor again. “I do so enjoy a good mystery,” he said, his tone low and smooth.

The interviewer groaned dramatically, throwing their hands up in mock defeat. “You’re killing me here. You’re making this way too complicated!”

The three of them shared a laugh, the kind that came from years of close friendship and camaraderie. There was something undeniable in the way their eyes lingered on one another, an unspoken connection between them that was as clear as the lights above.

“Well,” the interviewer continued, clearly enjoying the tension, “it’s clear the fans are going to have a field day with this one. The speculation is about to go through the roof.”

Y/N smiled, their eyes softening as they glanced between Viktor and Jayce. “Let them,” they said with a wink. “If they want a love triangle, we’ll give them one. But no spoilers.”

The moment lingered, just a little longer than necessary, before the interviewer moved on, but the warmth between the trio wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. And, even if they didn’t say it outright, the truth was clear. Their off-screen dynamics were anything but ordinary—and the fans were going to love every minute of it.

VANDER

The panel room buzzed with excitement as fans filed in, taking their seats and eagerly whispering to each other. You could hear the sound of murmurs grow louder as the lights dimmed, signaling that the panel was about to begin. On the stage, the moderator stood with a microphone in hand, smiling at the crowd. To the left, there was a screen showing various promotional shots from Arcane, with a particular focus on the Zaunite duo—Vander and Y/N.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Arcane panel!" the moderator called out, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Today, we’re lucky enough to have two very special guests—actors who bring to life the heart and soul of Zaun: Vander and Y/N"

The crowd erupted into applause, and you smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You and Vander—your real-life husband, the man you shared everything with—had been asked to participate in the panel together, and you couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the idea of sharing a piece of your relationship with the fans.

Vander leaned over to you, his deep voice low. "You ready for this?" he asked, flashing that signature grin of his that always made you feel like everything would be alright.

You took a deep breath, adjusting the mic at your collar. "I think so. Let’s give them a good show."

The moderator gestured toward both of you, prompting the conversation to begin. "So, Vander and Y/N—your characters have such a powerful, emotional relationship on screen. How do you approach that dynamic, especially considering the heavy weight of Zaun and the struggles the two face?"

Vander chuckled softly, his broad shoulders relaxing as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, Vander and Y/N are like two sides of the same coin. They have different strengths, but they share a lot of the same values. They both want to protect Zaun, their people. They both carry this weight of responsibility, and that means they have to support each other—sometimes in ways that aren't pretty."

You nodded in agreement, your eyes meeting Vander's for a brief moment. "Exactly. And for me, playing Y/N, it’s about finding that balance between strength and vulnerability. She’s tough because she has to be, but there’s always this tenderness with Vander that I think makes their relationship unique."

The fans in the audience were eating up every word. One raised their hand, and the moderator pointed to them. "Yes, you! What's your question?"

A young fan stood up, visibly excited. "I love the dynamic between Vander and Y/N! You two seem so natural together. Are there any moments from behind the scenes where you’ve laughed or had fun, even though your characters go through some pretty tough stuff?"

You grinned, sharing a quick glance with Vander. "Oh, definitely. We spend a lot of time laughing between takes. One of my favorite memories is when Vander had to give me a big, dramatic speech about protecting Zaun, and I... well, I might’ve cracked a joke in the middle of it. He’s all serious, and I just... couldn’t hold it in." You looked at Vander with a playful smile. "He definitely wasn’t expecting that."

Vander’s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Hey, she can’t help it. I’m pretty used to her sense of humor by now, though. But I gotta say, those serious moments are fun to film too. It’s all about the energy between us as actors. We have to trust each other to make it work."

The crowd laughed, and you could feel the warmth of their appreciation. Another fan stood up, holding their hand nervously. "Um, I have a question about the romantic side of Vander and Y/N’s relationship. You two are married in real life, so how does that affect your performances as characters who are also close to each other?"

Vander leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on his face. "We’ve been together for a while now, so our real relationship naturally informs the way we approach the scenes. We already have that chemistry, that trust. It’s a bit easier for us to navigate those intimate moments because we know each other so well."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling at his words. "I think what makes our characters’ relationship so special is that it feels real. Vander and Y/N are partners, both in battle and in life. There’s a deep level of trust between them, and I think that comes across in our portrayal of them, whether we’re acting or not."

The audience responded with appreciative claps, and the moderator smiled, clearly pleased with the answers. "You two clearly have an amazing dynamic. It’s so fun to see the real-life connection between Vander and Y/N. I think we all can agree that your chemistry makes the show so much more powerful."

=

As the panel continued, you and Vander fielded more questions, bouncing off each other effortlessly, occasionally teasing one another or sharing behind-the-scenes stories. One fan raised their hand, and the moderator called on them. "Hi! I have a question about Powder—the dynamic between her and Y/N in the show is so interesting. Do you two ever joke around on set about how close you are, since Powder is portrayed as your adopted daughter, but in real life, she's your... well, real daughter?"

The mention of your daughter—your beloved Powder, played by your real-life child—always brought a smile to your face. You laughed softly, glancing at Vander, who chuckled with you.

"Yes," you said, your voice warm. "It’s funny because, in a way, Powder is both our daughter on screen and off. She’s our biological daughter in real life, so there’s a lot of love and authenticity in those scenes. And while we’re both acting as parents, there are moments where we’re just a family, and I think that natural bond comes through."

Vander's expression softened as he looked at you, his love for both you and your daughter evident in his eyes. "It’s the little things, you know? The way we all laugh together between takes, or how Y/N and I share a look when Powder nails a scene—it feels like we’re a real family. It makes those emotional moments feel even more impactful."

"She’s really growing into a talented actress," you added with pride. "It’s amazing to see how she brings her character to life. On the show, Powder is vulnerable, but also capable of immense strength. And our real-life bond? I think it helps her channel that authenticity in her performance."

Another fan raised their hand, their voice filled with admiration. "How does it feel to work with your daughter? I bet it’s so special, especially considering the nature of Vander and Y/N’s relationship with Powder."

You smiled fondly. "It’s honestly the most rewarding experience. Having her there with us, seeing her grow as an actor and a person—it makes everything feel more real. The love we share as a family, even through the hardships and challenges the characters face, is something we can all relate to."

Vander gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze lingering on you. "It’s one of those things that makes the work even more meaningful. We get to experience it all together."

The audience clapped, and the moderator smiled warmly. "It’s clear how much love and chemistry you all share. It’s so rare to see a family working together so seamlessly, and I think it really enhances the show."

As the panel continued, you both shared more behind-the-scenes moments, occasional jokes, and snippets of life with your daughter, Powder. The fans couldn’t get enough of the heartfelt moments between you three, and by the end of the panel, the applause was deafening.

When the session wrapped up, you both stood, waving to the crowd. "Thank you so much for your support!" Vander called out, his deep voice booming over the mic.

"We’re so grateful for each and every one of you," you added, your smile genuine. "It means the world to us."

As you both walked backstage, the thrill of the panel still hanging in the air, you glanced over at Vander. "I think that went really well."

Vander wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked toward the exit, his touch warm and comforting. "Yeah, we make a pretty good team. But you’re the star, sweetheart."

You laughed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. "Not without you, we’re not."

"Not without all of us," he said, smiling as you both thought of your daughter, who would be joining you soon. "We’re a family."

"Always," you agreed, your heart full.

SILCO

The air outside the theater was buzzing with excitement as photographers clicked away, capturing the dazzling outfits of the actors walking the red carpet. The lights flashed like stars in a never-ending galaxy, and the crowd roared in anticipation of the next big award show. The red carpet shimmered underfoot, its length stretching before Y/N and Silco like an endless path of flashing cameras and curious eyes.

Y/N stood beside their husband, Silco, smiling for the cameras as the press tried to capture every moment. Silco was dressed in a tailored suit, sharp and sleek, his signature patch no longer a symbol of cruel ambition but a subtle accessory to his high-fashion look. His cold, calculating gaze from Arcane was long gone—replaced with a warmth that only his wife saw in private. Today, he was the complete opposite of the manipulative gang lord, his smile genuine, his posture relaxed.

Y/N, on the other hand, was wearing a stunning black gown, adorned with delicate silver embroidery. They felt the usual flutter of excitement in their chest as the cameras zoomed in, though the constant questions from the reporters were starting to wear on them. Despite their calm demeanor, they were a little overwhelmed by the attention.

"So, Y/N, tell us about your relationship with Silco in real life!" one reporter asked, his microphone pointed directly at them. "We know you two share a fiery rivalry in Arcane, but is there any truth to that animosity?"

Y/N smirked, playing along. "Oh, well, I can't say there isn't a little bit of tension, but off-screen, we're pretty... well, chill," they said, glancing over at Silco, who raised an eyebrow in amusement. There was a slight teasing edge to their words, a playful jab at the fierce rivalry their characters shared.

"That's right," Silco chimed in smoothly, his voice warm and friendly. "In fact, if you ever saw the bloopers, you'd see how much Y/N has managed to make me laugh. We’ve been married for three years now, and I can safely say, I'm the lucky one."

The reporters leaned in, intrigued. The shift in Silco's persona was immediately noticeable, his former coldness now replaced with a lighthearted warmth that contrasted sharply with his on-screen portrayal. "Wait, you two are actually married?" one reporter asked, his disbelief evident.

"Yep," Y/N replied, with a teasing smile. "We may have killed each other on-screen, but in real life, it's more about making each other laugh than anything else."

The reporters exchanged surprised glances, clearly shocked at how different their dynamic was in reality. Silco, who had made a name for himself playing the calculating, ruthless leader of Zaun, was now grinning at his wife as if she were the greatest treasure in the world. The contrast to his Arcane persona was striking. His usual menacing aura was replaced with genuine affection, his eyes softening when they looked at Y/N.

Y/N gave him a playful nudge, still basking in the strange delight of being married to someone who, in every other life, would have been their sworn enemy. "Yeah, if anyone needs to apologize for their actions, it's him. He’s the one who killed me in the show."

Silco chuckled darkly, the warmth in his eyes never fading. "I’ll say it again—it was purely professional. The script called for it." He leaned in close to whisper in their ear, his breath warm against their skin. "Though, between you and me, I think I got the better end of the deal."

Y/N laughed, nudging him again. "You just want to play the villain, don’t you?"

"Not at all," he said, his voice lowering to something more intimate, the playful edge still there. "But I do enjoy playing a good bad guy."

Before they could continue, another reporter asked, "So, tell us, what can fans expect from the upcoming season? Are there more twists in store for your characters?"

Y/N grinned, ready to play their part. "Oh, plenty of twists, but we’re keeping it secret for now," they said, giving the reporter a mysterious look. "Let’s just say there will be some very... unexpected alliances." They winked, giving Silco a subtle nod.

Silco, who had been quietly observing the interview, gave his wife a sly look. His smirk was mischievous, and the playful malice in his voice sent a thrill through Y/N. "Maybe more surprising deaths... or resurrections," he teased, leaning closer to their ear, his words dripping with intrigue.

"Silco!" Y/N gasped, though they couldn't help but laugh at his antics. The playful banter between them felt so natural, a stark contrast to the deadly silence their characters shared in the show. "Don't spoil anything!"

The reporters laughed, clearly enjoying the chemistry between the two. It was evident that their off-screen relationship was nothing like their on-screen personas. Silco's charm was magnetic, his warmth a complete departure from the cold-hearted gangster everyone knew him as. And Y/N? They were a perfect balance to him—unpredictable, witty, and fiercely loyal.

As the interview came to a close, the two posed for a final shot, standing close together, Y/N resting their hand on Silco’s arm. The contrast between their characters in Arcane and the reality of their relationship was impossible to ignore. The rivalry on-screen, the tension, the betrayal—all of it was left behind the moment they left the set.

Silco looked down at his wife, his expression softening for just a moment before the cameras flashed again. There was something in his eyes—a quiet, unspoken bond that spoke volumes. "I don’t think anyone’s ready for the full story," he whispered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear.

Y/N smiled up at him, their eyes sparkling with a shared understanding. "Then let’s keep it that way. Let them keep wondering."

The briefest of moments passed, where everything felt still, as if the world had paused just for them. Then, as if on cue, the reporters called for one more shot, and the two of them effortlessly fell back into their roles. Together, they walked down the red carpet, the world’s expectations for their on-screen rivalry continuing to clash with the reality of their unexpected love.

Their steps were synchronized, their bond clear for all to see. It was a moment where the distinction between Arcane and reality blurred completely, leaving behind only the undeniable truth: the love between Y/N and Silco, though strange to the outside world, was real. And that, they both knew, was the greatest twist of all.

[revelboo]

I just wanted to say how much I love your writing! I love all the tfp pet stories (poor smokescreen, he's doing his best), I love the tfo stories (finally got around to watch the movie), but my favourite currently is Waspinator. Our brave boy deserves so many cuddles <3 And I love the pictures from your figures, they're almost as much fun as the fics

Thank you! Waspinator is trying his hardest, but he’s scared out of his processor

Worker Bee Pt 31

Waspinator x Reader

• Getting jerked around as he darts erratically about, he’d left the cover of the trees hours ago, entered a stretch of grassland and brush. The last hour or so had been predominantly brown stretches of nothing, though. Where’s he going? Does he even know? You’d tried to convince him to stop, but he’s babbling and sobbing nonstop, too freaked out to listen. But he’d saved you. Actually attacked another of his kind for you, protected you when you’d been sure he was too scared of his own shadow to fight.

• “Waspinator protect mate. Safe nest. Safe nest for Waspinator and mate,” he mumbles, flying as fast as he can. Slowly registering that he’s heading into Autobot controlled territory and his anxiety doubles. Megatron had sent Barricade to bring him back by force. Had hoped he’d be forgotten, left alone. That he could be happy, but Megatron isn’t going to stop. Hates him, but still won’t let him go. Why won’t he let him go? He’s trembling uncontrollably, optics leaking coolant when he feels the faint hum of a distant biofield and he spots a red truck far below. Autobot? They’ll attack him, hurt you. Right?

• “Wasp, please. We need to stop,” you try again, squirming and still tied up in your curtain, all of his extra limbs clutching you to his frame as he flies in his giant wasp form. Still not listening. Tired, hungry, and really needing to pee, you groan. And slowly realize he’s distantly following the truck ahead of him. Watching it turn off the road and bounce across the dirt. After what feels like forever, it veers and drives straight into the base of a mountain. And disappears. “Wasp?” He’s arrowing down with you, aiming for the base of the mountain where the truck had disappeared.

• Flinching as the holomatter illusion of solid rock shivers over him, and you scream in fear to make his antenna flatten back. Right as sirens shriek. Transforming, he wraps himself around you, kneeling. Autobots might listen. Might also shoot. Wings buzzing aggressively as he tucks your head against his neck, he hisses as Autobots come running, weapons drawn. And he’s tensed, ready to bolt with you. Wincing when you see the weapons on the two of you and start screaming louder. ‘Release the human, Decepticon scum,’ one Autobot, the red truck growls, weapon drawn and humming. “Not Decepticon,” Waspinator growls, servos tightening on you. “Waspinator.”

• Are these the guys that sent the asshole he saved you from? Why would he come here? Heart racing as you look around at the giants and their big guns. ‘Let the human go,’ another black and white mech demands. Wait. Do they think he’s the threat? Scared out of your mind, you reach up to grab at Waspinator’s head, snagging his mandible to make him whine. They’re demanding he hand you over, that he doesn’t hurt you. Trying to protect you from Wasp? And he’s frozen, trembling against you as they yell at him. “Don’t you dare touch him,” you manage, voice breaking and one of them looks at you, mouth opening slightly. “He’s mine.” Hoping you’re not wrong and they don’t just blast both of you as the black and white mech turns and an even bigger alien is striding forward.

• Curling more around you as he hisses warnings, wings buzzing, Waspinator wants to scramble backwards and run with you. Too scared to speak, because they’re going to hurt him. Maybe hurt you. Shouldn’t have come here. He’s supposed to protect his little mate and he’d brought you somewhere dangerous instead. Failed. Screwed up like he always does. ‘Are you trying to defect? Renouncing the Decepticons?’ A deep voice asks, and his head lifts, wilting under the stare of the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime. Is he defecting? “Yes?” He growls uncertainly and the Autobots exchange a look. If it means having a safe nest where Megatron can’t reach him or you? He’ll agree to anything.

Previous

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[holylulusworld]

Gap Filler (4)

Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy,

A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.

Catch up here: Gap Filler (3)

Walter watches you sit down on your sofa, his eyes glued to your middle. He wonders if you are already showing. No, this can’t be. You’re not far into pregnancy, and he would’ve recognized any change.

“My eyes are up here, Marshall,” you huff, knowing he only came here for the baby, not you. “Did you come here, believing I won’t leave because of the baby?”

“What?” He furrows his brows. “No, of course not. You believe I’m the worst…” Walter shakes his head. He looks at the spot next to you on the sofa, wondering if he’s still allowed to sit next to you. “I’ve fucked up everything good in my life since Rachel left me. The thought of losing you alone made me go crazy. I did the only thing that came to my mind and hurt you first.”

“You’re an asshole, Marshall.” Averting your gaze, you try not to show Walter how much his actions hurt you. “I would’ve done anything for you, even given up my job. I was ready to have a baby with you, and then…”

Walter sighs deeply when you start to silently cry. “When we got together, I swore to never let anyone hurt you. And then, it was my breaking your heart.”

You harrumph and shake your head. “As if you could break my heart, Marshall.”

“Y/N…” He murmurs your name. “Can we please talk about…the baby? Is it okay… Are you okay? Did I stress you and make things harder?”

Protectively, wrapping your arms around your middle, you remain silent. You can feel the tension in Walter, but for the first time, you don’t want to help him relax or calm down.

You want him to be tense, and scared, and downright terrified of losing the person he loves—because that’s how he made you feel.

“Y/N?”

“The baby is fine,” you snap at Walter. “Not thanks to you, though. After you told me you’d leave me for Rachel, the first thing I did was get a checkup. I didn’t want to risk my baby’s life over an asshole leaving me.”

Walter moves a little closer as he says, “Our baby, Y/N. Please don’t take away my chance to become a father over a stupid mistake. I’ll do anything. Name it, and I do it.”

“Careful, Marshall,” you bite back. “One day, someone will take you seriously and tell you to bathe in honey and run over a field to let bees sting your ass.”

Marshall dips his head to look at you. He grins before bursting into laughter. “I have missed your bad sense of humor.”

“I wasn’t joking,” you glare at him. “I could’ve easily told you I want you to go to hell. You can’t come here and act as if you didn’t call me a gap filler, Walt! You acted like I and the time we spent together meant nothing to you.”

“I—” Walter’s heart hurts watching you cry again. “Baby, I’m so fucking sorry for being an emotional train wreck and everything else. I was never good at talking about feelings and being weak. I hate it and get angry. What I did that day is unforgivable.”

He sniffs and wipes his eyes. “Still, I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I quit my job, and I must move out of my apartment at the end of the month. See the boxes.” You point at the few boxes in your living room. “I already started packing up my things. What do you expect me to do? Beg my landlord to let me rent out my apartment again. What about my job? It’s gone, and then… Rachel is coming back…”

Walter looks at the boxes, nodding to himself. “Move in with me, or let’s both move to a new town. You can take the new job,” he says without thinking twice. “That’s what I wanted to ask you in the first place. But then I heard about the job and…fucked things up.”

“Walt, that’s not a good reason to move in together. You broke things off with me over a misunderstanding. What happens if we have a fight or argue about shit? Do you want to leave me and the baby?”

“Y/N, I swear that’s what I wanted all along. Not only because your bed is too short and small for me.” You laugh at his words, but the tears are still falling. “I hate myself so much for hurting you. We could’ve had it all, and now, everything is in ruins because of my stupid mistake.”

You cradle your face. “Dammit, Marshall. What do you expect me to do now? I can’t go back to my old job, and I can’t move out of town because the father of my child lives here. It’s all so…”

“Fucked up?”

“You already said that more than once,” you grumble. “I want to start new somewhere else, and at the same time, I want to stay here. My life is here. My friends, my colleagues, the asshole I love…”

“I love you too, baby,” he chuckles when you throw him an angry look. “So, how about you move in with me for now? We can decide to move again later.” Walter hopefully glances at you. He wrings his hands as you stare at the boxes on the ground.

“I can’t believe I put up with all the shit you pulled over the years.” You are still downright pissed, but don’t want to lose Walter either. “I will call my boss, asking if I can still come back.”

Walter watches you get up from the couch to call your boss. He listens closely, hearing your boss make a noise he has never heard before. Did your usually cold and professional boss just squeal? “Did she…” He looks at you, furrowing his brows. “Never mind.”

“She said I can come back.” You cross your arms over your chest, shooting Walter an angry look. “Don’t think for one second you are allowed to even get near me for the time being. I’ll sleep in your guest room until I find a new apartment.”

“I can work with that.” Walter hastily moves toward you to cup your face. “I will do anything to earn your forgiveness. You’ll see, I’m a man of my word…”

[waitingandwishing]

Incorrect HXH quotes with y/n

1. Gon: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Killua: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! y/n: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Leorio: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Kurapika: My moral code, is that you? Gon: ... Gon: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my dad left me but do you guys need a hug?

2. Kurapika: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? y/n: Have everyone stand. Gon: Bring three more chairs! Leorio: The most important ones can sit down. Killua: Kill three.

3. Gon: What does 'take out' mean? Killua: Food. y/n: Dating Kurapika: Murder Leorio: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

4. Gon: Where's Killua, y/n, and Leorio? Kurapika: They're playing hide and seek. Gon: Where? Kurapika: I don't think you get how this game works.

5. Gon: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? y/n: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Gon: Three of us saw it, y/n. How do you explain that? y/n: *points at Kurapika* Sleep deprivation. *points at Leorio* Paranoia. *points at Killua* Delusional personality disorder.

6. killua, talking about y/n: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

7. y/n: Are you ready to commit? killua: Like, a suicide attempt *flashback to the train* or a relationship?

8. y/n: I’ve been dropping him the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. gon: Wow. They sound stupid. y/n: But he's not. He's really smart actually. Just dense. gon: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” y/n: I guess you’re right. Hey gon, I love you. gon: See! Just say that! y/n: Holy fucking shit. gon: If that flies over their head then, sorry y/n, but they're too dumb for you. y/n: gon.

9. y/n: My hands are cold. kurapika: Here, let me hold them. y/n: My lips are cold too. kurapika: *covers y/n's mouth with his hand*

10. y/n, trying to flirt with kurapika: I think both of our families suck.

11. Killua: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars. y/n: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

12. Store Worker: Would a Mr. Killua please come to the front desk? Killua, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to y/n and Gon Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? y/n and Gon, simultaneously: We got lost :( Killua: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

13. y/n: Killua and I don’t use pet names. Gon: I see. Hey, what do bees make? y/n: Honey? Killua: Yes? Killua: Gon: Don't ever lie to my face again.

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Warmth of Another pt.3

Part One | Part Two

"Hey guys~ Welcome to the official Wednesday BTS Livestream!"

Emma fluttered around with her phone in hand, getting into character as she greeted the ever speeding chat.

"And that's BTS as in 'behind the scenes,' not the ever popular Bangtan Boys. No collabs happening here."

As Emma, or Enid in this case, hops around from set to set, the rest of the cast watch the antics, waiting for their chance to make their cameo. Catherine, Luis and Issac do their Addams family schtick, hinting at what's coming for the gothic family. Next was Georgie, playing into Ajax's ship with Enid a little. They have a moment before Moosa zooms around them, buzzing like a bee.

Suddenly, the chat goes mach speed. Slightly confused, Emma looks around only to find the show's star and newest cast member watching a monitor together. To be able to see the small screen, you and Jenna were standing close, her back almost pressed against your front. With a smirk, Emma bounds towards you.

"And of course, you can't forget our favorite ink blot! Hiiii Weds~!"

On cue, Jenna's face falls and relaxes into her signature empty stare before turning to the camera. You, on the other hand, lean back and fall into a cool, lopsided grin.

"Enid. What did I say about filmin-"

"Tell the fans about the upcoming season!"

Thankfully, no one noticed the twitch of Jenna's lips.

"As you can see," 'Wednesday' begins, "we have a new student." She points towards you as you wave. "They're just another thorn at my side, like all the others."

"I dunno, Addams. I feel like you'll find me handy this year," you say as you lean against Jenna's shoulder. She glares at you only to be met with a cool stare. The chat fills with gibberish as the staring contest continues. Emma whirls the camera around back to her.

"Welp! That's all for now, folks! Look forward to seeing our adventures on Season 2!"

The chat continues on before Emma realizes that just behind her, you had pulled Jenna into your arms and gave her a soft kiss.

"OOPS KAY BYE GUYS!"

The blonde turns to look at the two of you, each looking sheepish.

"And now all of China knows you're queer."

You scratch the back of your head in embarrassment. "Sorry... Didn't think you'd turn back around."

"To be fair," Jenna starts. "You should've known how erratic Emma is when Enid takes over." You all laugh.

"We'll at least we won't be the only ones subjected to your newfound smoopiness." The blonde pulls you both into a hug. "Now the whole world will see!"

You let out a soft groan and silently curse your lack of impulse when it comes to giving Jenna affection.

"At least I don't have to be careful anymore."

It was certainly worth it.

[flemingsfreckles]

Grandkids Pt 2

Jessie Fleming (parent fic)

Synopsis: you and Jessie ask your daughter about her rumored boyfriend, it’s doesn’t go as well as you had hoped. Also based off this request! Follow up fic to this previous fic.

Warnings: mentions of sex, birds and the bees talk again, nothing too explicit, some angst

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this will probably have a part 3 :)

“Ame?” You knock on your daughter's bedroom door, calling her the nickname she got as a little girl from Jessie.

“It's open.” She replies.

You give your wife a smile and a quick squeeze to her hand before you open the door. You and Jessie both walk in, closing the door behind you your daughter spins around in her chair.

“What?” You watch the expression on her face change looking nervous. “Who died?”

“No one died.” You reassure her.

Your daughter looks between you and Jessie. “Then what’s going on?”

“We just wanted to talk to you…” you pause, giving Jessie the chance to talk, she’s been silent since you left the office, you look over at her and she’s looking at the ground.

“Then talk.” your daughter spins back around, turning her head back into the textbook on her desk. She had gotten Jessie’s knack for school, always working her hardest, trying her best. Your son had gotten your interest in school, or more lack of interest in school.

“We need your attention for this.” Your daughter throws her head back and lets out a huff before turning around again. She crosses her arms and looks between you and Jessie. You sit on her bed, across from her. You look at Jessie who’s standing still just by the door. You pat the side of the bed and she snaps out of her stare and moves to sit next to you.

“We overheard some things Riley was saying when you two got home today.” You pause, hoping your daughter wouldn’t make you drag this out and would jump in confirming or denying the boyfriend. She doesn’t. “He mentioned a boyfriend.”

You watch your daughter break eye contact with you, her eyes finding her hands fidgeting, just like Jessie did when she was nervous. You also notice the redness starting to form on her cheeks.

“Amelia?” You don’t want to force her to tell you, you want her to do it on her own, but it didn’t seem like she was going to offer that information voluntarily. She doesn’t look up from her hands. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I guess.” She mumbles. You practically feel Jessie tense up next to you at your daughter's mention of the boy.

“Okay.” Now you were racking your brain for what to say next. “That’s fine we’re not upset, you can have a boyfriend. What’s his name?”

“Nick.”

“Nick, how do you know Nick?” You question.

She glances over to you. “School. He’s in my advanced calculus class.”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Couple weeks.” She shrugs as if she’s unsure.

“Have you gone on dates?” You realize it’s starting to feel like you’re interrogating your daughter, but you had questions and wanted to know.

“Yeah. We hang out at lunch, we’ve gotten dinner with a group of friends, we study after school together sometimes.”

“Alone?” Jessie finally chips in.

“I mean, we’re at school, but yes, it’s usually just us,”

“You will not be allowed to be alone with him anymore, you will not make us grandparents for at least another 10 years.” Before your daughter finishes, Jessie cuts her off.

Your daughter's jaw drops. “Oh my god, is that what this is? You’re trying to give me the sex talk again?”

“Amelia we just want to check in with you, you’ve never had a boyfriend, we just wanted to kind of cover our expectations.” You try to explain to her that this is more than just a sex talk.

She just looks at you.

“We’d like to meet him, especially if you’re going to continue seeing him.” She nods at you. “He won’t be a distraction, if there’s a negative change in your school, your behavior, your attitude, that we think is due to him, that’ll be a problem.”

“He won’t be a problem.”

“He’s welcome to come over, but you two won’t be alone in the house together. No behind closed doors activities, especially not now while this is new and we don’t necessarily trust him.”

“Ughh” your daughter covers her face, obviously not enjoying the conversation being had, she knew where it was going and what you were implying.

“Look, Amelia, none of us are comfortable having this conversation, but,” you let out a sigh, looking at Jessie and then back to your daughter. “If you have any questions or I don’t know concerns, confusion, regarding the physical intimacy that comes with,”

“Oh my god.” Your daughter plugs her ears with her fingers. “I know how sex works, I don't need to be taught.”

“Amelia, act like an adult.” You give her a stern look and she drops her hands.

“If you’re dating, that part of your relationship is going to come up. Your mom and I just want to establish this open line of communication regarding anything you may have questions about. We’d rather you come to us than consult the internet.” You glance at Jessie, trying to give her the option to jump in and talk but she stays silent. “We get that you’re nearly an adult, sex is a natural thing, we just want you to be safe and smart about it. We’re not going to tell you what you can and can’t do with your body, you’re legally a consenting adult. We just, if it’s something that’s going to happen or you think might happen, you can talk to us.”

“Can I talk to both of you? Or is just Mom okay with this?” Your daughter is now looking at Jessie but pointing at you.

You look at your wife, her jaw is clenched, as if she’s been holding back snarky comments the whole time you’ve been talking.

“Ma?” Your daughter tries again to get Jessie to speak. The two of them stare at each other, no words being exchanged. You take the moment to realize how alike your daughter and wife are. Their freckled faces, both sporting an embarrassed blush on their cheeks, their hair, your daughter’s much longer than Jessie’s but similar in color and texture. In this moment their stubbornness, them both sitting, not speaking at each other. You daughter had always been Jessie’s little girl, your son clinging more to you, you knew your daughter would want Jessie’s approval, she’d want confirmation that she could go to Jessie if she needed something.

Jessie pushes herself off the bed, not uttering a single word shaking her head as she walks out of the room. Youre stuck for a moment. Completely stunned by what just had occurred. Stunned by your wife’s lack of regard for your child who just wanted some reassurance. Once you snap out of your stunned state you look over to your daughter. She's blinking rapidly, her lower lip is being held tightly between her teeth but the way it was quivering still noticeable.

“Ame.” You stand up and go to wrap your arms around your daughter. You were ready to rip into your wife for her immaturity but first you had to comfort your daughter. “It’s alright.”

“Does she hate me?” You can hear your daughter sniffle slightly as she speaks.

“Oh honey! No, she doesn’t hate you.” You squeeze her tighter.

“Then why won't she talk to me?” Her voice breaks as she asks you, breaking your heart. You feel a tear from your daughter's face hit your forearm.

You give her a kiss on the top of her head. “She doesn’t hate you honey. She just, she’s having a hard time, I think shes just realizing that her little girl isn’t so little anymore. It’s hard, you used to be so small. But that’s still not fair for her to behave like that.” You feel your daughter nod into your chest. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Okay.” You release your daughter from your grasp, looking at her teary face. “Amelia, we both love you, she’ll come around.” She nods again and you turn to leave her room.

“Thank you.” Your daughter says right before you leave her room. “For treating me like an adult, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you both sooner about him, it just never felt like the right time and I wanted to make sure it stuck and I was worried I’d just be scolded and told I wasn’t allowed to date, except that’s what it seems she wants.”

“She’ll come around, I promise.” You give her a smile as you close the door behind you. The smile immediately dropping when you see Jessie standing in the living room.

“Bedroom, now!” You say through your teeth as you glare at your wife when you step out of your daughter's room. You grab her arm and pull her behind you across the house and into your room, shutting the door hard behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” You try to keep your voice quiet, Amelia already being upset you didn’t want her to overhear your fight and blame herself. Jessie says nothing, cowering away from you.

“Seriously Jessie, she asked me if you hated her! Our daughter thinks you hate her, do you realize how fucked up it was to walk out? All she wanted was something from you, you said nothing to her! She wanted to know she could come to you, that she could trust you with questions and you failed to show her that she could!”

“I, I didn’t know what to say.” Keeping her eyes on the floor Jessie quietly mutters.

“Anything, anything would’ve been better than what you did! She’s in her room crying, she thinks you’re disappointed in her, she’s done nothing wrong!” You raise your voice accidentally.

“I know.”

“You better fix this, tonight.” You give her a hard look before you walk out of the room, not caring how hard you closed the door behind you.

You wander out to the living room, slumping down on the couch. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You had felt confident going into your daughter’s room, you and Jessie had just talked, she had agreed that you’d talk to her as an adult, give her the opportunity to ask questions, and Jessie had completely abandoned that plan.

Part of you understood how Jessie felt, it was hard realizing your kids weren’t kids anymore. It was hard, but you knew it was coming. You had 17 years to prepare and it definitely didn’t feel like enough time. You accepted Amelia was an adult now, you had given her more freedom, asked less questions about where she was going, you expected her to behave like an adult, and she had. She had proven to both you and Jessie that she was more than capable of being her own person. She had a job, she did well in school, she was home on time, she was a good kid who turned into an equally good young adult.

The longer you sit on the couch the more uncomfortable you become. It was as if you could feel the tension between the two sides of your house, your daughter's bedroom off to your left and your shared bedroom with Jessie off to the right of where you sat. No noises or signs of movement coming from behind either door.

It takes time but finally your bedroom door cracks open and your wife steps out. She makes the move toward your eldest child’s bedroom stopping in front of where you sat. “Can you come with me?” You push up from where you sat and follow her to the doorway.

You stand behind Jessie, she was going to have to make the move, you weren’t here to help her. She knocks, Amelia answers the door without a word she gives you both a glance and then turns back toward her desk.

“Amelia,” Jessie starts as she walks into the room, she sits back on the bed as you two had before, this time you stay by the door. Jessie pats her hand on the comforter, inviting your daughter to come sit next to her. Amelia sends you a pointed look before slowly making her way to sit.

Jessie holds out her hands to your daughter, Amelia places her own into Jessie’s. “Amelia, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for walking out before, that was not the right choice, I just needed to take a moment, I’m sorry I made you think I was upset with you.”

“It’s alright.” Your daughter shrugs.

“No, it’s not. That was a bad example of how to deal with my emotions. I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m not upset with you, and I certainly don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I just needed to process a little bit more.”

“You told her?” Your daughter now looks at you, annoyance on her face.

“She did.” Jessie steps in to defend you to your daughter. “I was being selfish, your Mom called me out on it, she told me I hurt you because I was too caught up in my own feelings. Don’t be mad at her.”

Amelia looks between the two of you. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Jessie takes a deep breath, letting the air out of her lungs before she starts. “I don’t want you sleeping with him.” Jessie is able to get out before your daughter interrupts.

“I’m not Ma, we haven’t, we won’t-” Jessie gently shakes Amelia’s hands, giving them a squeeze.

“First off I want to meet him, before you two continue on dating, I need to see if he’s a good person. If we don’t think he’s a good person, that’ll be a different conversation, but I trust your judgment so I’d like to think he’s a good person. He will be respectful of you, and respectful to us, he’ll be respectful to your brother, he’ll respect your time, he’ll respect your friends. He will understand that while, yes, he’s your boyfriend and you’re his girlfriend, you are not his, you’re your own person.”

Your own eyes widen at the speech your wife is suddenly giving your daughter. It wasn’t the first time Jessie had been stern with your kids, she had been before when it came to them being disrespectful or doing something potentially dangerous. This was different, she wasn’t necessarily being stern, but firm in her expectations and you couldn’t help but feel proud of her for first owning that she messed up with your daughter earlier, and now giving her the fair and adult conversation that she had previously feared.

“You two will not be allowed to sleep over at each other's houses, you will not be out extra late with him. I know you say you haven’t slept together and you won’t, but I’ve also been a teenager so I know how quickly that can change. And I’m not an idiot, so don’t try any of that sneaky shit missy. Your Mom and I played that game, we did all the sneaking around when we first dated, we know all the tricks and all the places you can hide.”

“Gross.” Amelia mutters under her breath.

It’s now your turn to feel the embarrassment as Jessie brings up how the two of you used to sneak around as teenagers, being only able to see each other on National Team duty, you made good use of hotel rooms, training rooms, closets, bathrooms, all while hiding your relationship for the first two years.

“I’m also not ignorant enough to realize you don’t need to have a sleepover to have sex. I don’t know why parents think it’s only at night. Regardless, the door stays open when he’s over and in your room. And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, if you’re going to have sex with him, just please be smart about it. You can come to me or your Mom, I promise. I’d rather you tell us it might be on your mind, than sneak off and do it in his car in a dirty alley with no protection and then we have grandkids, we can discuss birth control if it comes to that. But no sex in a sketchy alley. And don’t rush into it, don’t you dare let him rush you or pressure you in anyway into it! Am I clear?”

“Yes.” Amelia says, nodding while still avoiding eye contact with you and Jessie, choosing to stare across at her desk chair.

“Any questions?”

Your daughter shakes her head and Jessie reaches for your daughter's phone on the nightstand and hands it to her. “Now, invite him for dinner on Friday.”

“Ma, no!” She snatches the phone from Jessie’s hand but doesn’t make a move to text Nick.

“Invite him Amelia, if he’s a decent person, you have nothing to be worried about.

“I’m not worried about him, I’m worried about you two, you’re both going to interrogate him and scare him off!”

“No we won’t.” You reassure your daughter, you didn’t want to scare the boy, you just wanted to get to know him. Dinner seemed like a safe way to do that.

“You might not, but she will.” Your daughter cranes her neck to look at you, her arm pointing at Jessie in front of her.

“I’m your mother, I'm allowed to interrogate him. Invite him Amelia, if Friday doesn’t work we’ll do a different day but I’m meeting this boy.”

[stardahlia]

Can we pretend it never happened. Pt2

Summary: Wheeljack gets badly injured on a mission with Bulkhead and Bumblebee, the others are busy fighting over an energon mine to help. Having assisted Ratchet several times in the medbay, you’re brought along in hopes of getting Wheeljack up and moving quicker. A certain tyrant decides to throw a rock in that plan.

Warning/tags: SFW. Active battlefield. Injuries. Reader will never live it down. Unhappy medic. Swearing.

Characters: Tfp Megatron. Tfp Ratchet. Tfp Bumblebee. Tfp Bulkhead. Tfp Wheeljack.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours, You’re.

Extra: This is an indulgent part two for the delusional. Also, this can technically be read without having read the first part.

3… 2.. 1. GO! _____________________

You have a toolbox sitting on your lap, trying not to vomit from Ratchet’s horrible driving as you pull thick gloves onto your hands. The after effects from going through the ground bridge both helped to distract you from the nausea, and make it worse. Thankfully you receive a nice dose of adrenaline when Ratchet suddenly swerved to avoid getting hit by the vehicons actively firing at us. Why couldn’t we have just snuck onto the battlefield? You know why, that being Wheeljack having limited time, but still. Maybe this’ll teach the asshole wrecker a thing or two. …. It didn’t, he’s still a bastard and a half when you two make it to where Bee and Bulk are protecting him. Actually, he’s almost worse. You and Ratchet were trying to attend to his wounds, key word trying, but you kind of began to wish the boulders you all were taking cover behind would shift just enough for a stray blaster shot to knock Wheeljack out. Currently, You’re halfway under his chestplate, a modified welding torch in hand as you try to stop any energon leaks you can reach.“ I swear I’m going to weld your wires wrong if you don’t stop pissing us off!” The wrecker chuckled, doubting you’d do anything like that, you’re too much of a goody two shoes to do anything like that. “Can’t help it, Pocket Doc, it’s part of my charm.” Even though you can’t see his stupid faceplate right now, you’re pretty sure you can hear his grin. Unfortunately, your silence alerted Ratchet that you really were about to cross the oblivious mech’s wires. As much as Ratchet would love to have petty revenge inflicted on the wrecker, a blaster shot narrowly missing his helm reminded him that there was a time and a place for this, here and now being neither. “Save it for later, medical malpractice is best performed with fewer witnesses.”

A Cheshire grin spread across your lips when you felt Wheeljack’s body stiffen ever so slightly, although the mech tries to cover up his unease with a chuckle and another bad joke. You’re pretty sure that if Optimus was here, he’d give both you and Ratchet a stern look, the thought making you giggle a little. Wheeljack stayed still long enough for you and Ratchet to mend the worst of the leaks that you two could get to without opening him up. “Heads up everyone, the big bad’s comin’ in!”

You heard Bulkheads warning a second before the sound of an aircraft slicing through the air met your ears. Your focus is ripped from the sound when you feel Wheeljack move, panic flaring at the thought of being crushed in half. “Hey-HEY!! Stop moving!” At the sound of your shouting, Ratchet quickly holds Wheeljack down long enough for you to wiggle our way out, before being sent falling off the side of his chassis as he tries to get up and rejoin the fight. Ratchet was a second too late to catch you, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to have a lovely bruise on your back and shoulder as you wheeze on the ground. “Scrap- Wheeljack! You are in no condition to fight! We need to retreat before you cause any more injuries!” Ratchet was not happy at seeing you trying to struggle to refill your lungs with air, the wrecker's determination to get himself killed in action was only adding fuel to the fire. The constant blaster fire they’re under spurred his anger on further. You hear Bumblebee beeping as you breathe in gasps of air. Turning your head, you see him looking at you with those big optics full of concern. Not wanting him to lose focus and get shot, you wave a hand in a dismissive manner before forcing yourself to get up, coughing and breathing heavily. By the time you could finally breathe normally enough to talk, Bulkhead had finally convinced Wheeljack to retreat, unfortunately that was about the same time Megatron arrived. Said shark faced mech circled above the battlefield. Now that your lungs were in working order, you decided to put them to use by voicing the question that nagged at you. “What the hell is he doing here? Usually he only appears when Optimus is part of the fight-”

When you looked up to watch the tyrant fly, he coincidentally chose that moment to land. Right where you could see him no less. What caught your attention the most wasn’t just his process of transforming, but the fact he landed in a kneel, red eyes piercing as he stood up straight. You didn’t want to assume, especially not when it came to someone like him, but damn was it hard not to. The feeling in your chest annoys you, and with the way Megatron is smirking you feel like he knows, which pisses you off even more. “I’m going to kill him.” As much as Wheeljack agrees with your statement, he can’t stop himself from angering you further, even as he is being held upright by Ratchet and Bulkhead. “You might wanna lower your ambitions, Pocket Doc, mechs both larger and stronger than you have tried.”

You didn’t bother to look at Wheeljack, still glaring daggers at Megatron who held your stare, even though he was very successful at angering you further. A crooked grin spread on your lips, complimenting your glare as you spoke with venom. “I’m no mech.” Bumblebee began to worry you might try something stupid, so to avoid any accidents he quickly scooped you up, breaking the staredown you were having with their worst enemy, and irritating your aching back. “Wh- Bee? What are you doing-” A shot from a vehicon whizzing past you cut you off, and promptly shut you up too. The adrenaline and Bumblebee returning fire made you fail to notice Megatron practically sneering for one reason or another. Ratchet was just about done with this strange thing going on between his leader’s most hated enemy and his own assistant, they needed to retreat before Megatron finally attacks or something even weirder happens. “Agent Fowler, open the ground bridge at our coordinates, now!” To your bewilderment, and probably the autobots too, Megatron still hadn’t said anything nor had he attacked them. Actually, scratch that last part. Just as the ground bridge opens and the autobots begin their retreat, you spot Megatron aiming his arm cannon at you as it charges up. Your heart just about leapt into your throat, your surprise amusing the tyrant judging by the smirk showing off his sharp dentas. As Bulkhead and Ratchet carry Wheeljack through the portal, Bumblebee covering the three while keeping you secured in a servo, you ignore your fear in favour of glaring at Megatron. Except, an idea crosses your mind, one that could get you killed but was also deliciously devious. Instead of giving him any kind of entertainment or satisfaction, you turn your head and ignore him. Dismiss his threat of death like it was unimportant scrap.

A short break in the blaster fire gives Bumblebee the opportunity to retreat into the ground bridge, and even as you feel the weird vibrations of the portal you keep your focus on anything but Megatron, who didn’t fire his cannon as you and Bee left the battlefield. As you feel yourself travel through the ground bridge, a question pricks at your thoughts. ‘What the hell?’.

_____________________

And CUT! I both love and hate Megatron, I’m delusional but also hyper aware of who he is, what he is. Tfp Megatron feels like a gentleman which makes me wanna swoon, but his cruelty and manipulation makes me want to avoid him like he’s made of asbestos.

A dance of toxicity.

Hey that’s a pretty good name for a fic.

[24kmagiic]

Dearest Gentle Reader,

With thawed grounds, buzzing bees, and the heady bloom of peonies, Spring has made her entrance—and so too has the first scandal of the Social Season.

Last night’s magical mishap set tongues wagging—but by morning, Duchess Bennett had gifted the Ton something far juicier.

Her Grace was seen departing the Hall of Ancestors arm-in-arm with none other than His Grace Niklaus Mikaelson—early, I might add. The pair was then spotted returning on foot, hours later, from a secluded estate at the edge of the Hollow. Alone. Disheveled. And—dare I say—unapologetic.

A simple detour to wait out a spring storm, perhaps? Or the latest move in an intricate, enchantment-laced courtship? The Ton, of course, will draw its own conclusions.

Now, dear reader, I dare to ask what none of you will say aloud: What will become of Her Grace’s reputation after spending the night in such close quarters with the Original Hybrid? And more importantly… what will the consequences be?”

Take from that what you will, Gentle Reader, for the Ton surely has…

Until the next overnight scandal slips into daylight,

-Lady Mistledown

A Courtship of Convenience

May 3: Fake Dating The Kingdom of Mystic Falls Spring 1812 AD

“A scandalous storm left them stranded, but it’s the aftermath that’s truly soaking the Ton.”

Bonnie angrily balled the gossip scroll tight within her fist and palmed her forehead. Her anxiety was through the roof, her reputation was muddied, and her patience was worn thin. All because of one man.

“I will not have my good name soiled by a Rake,” she fumed. Before she could strategize, a loud knock sounded throughout the estate. Her magic flared the moment she sensed him, and despite her improper attire, she lifted the haunches of her petticoat and ran out of the room, leaving her ladies in waiting befuddled.

Bonnie stormed past a group of servants, nearly knocking one off his feet. She muttered an inaudible apology as she continued down the hall, past the great hall, and into the foyer, where her armed guard stood with a fixed expression.

“Your Grace, would you kindly invite me in? While efficient at his job, your guard is seconds from meeting his untimely end.”

At the perceived threat, the guard swiftly moved into a defensive stance. Bonnie raised her hand and nodded.

“At ease, Sir Donovan,” she commanded.

With a nod of acknowledgement, Sir Donovan stepped aside, allowing Bonnie to approach the threshold. Summoning her magic to the surface, she inhaled deeply as she lifted her glowing hand, sending it straight across Klaus’s face. The added strength of her magic sent him rocking on his heels.

“Bonnie!!” Sheila Bennett came into view, absolutely astonished by her granddaughter’s appearance and actions. “That is not how you treat our guest!” Bonnie huffed. “And why are you indecent?!” Sheila’s eyes were filled with ire. “Miranda!”

As if she were tethered to her grandmother, Miranda Gilbert appeared immediately.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Please dress Miss Bennett appropriately and alert the kitchen staff of our esteemed guest’s arrival.”

“Grams, have you read this filth? They’re insinuating that I… that we…” Bonnie swallowed the dry patch in her throat, unable to force the words out.

“And you’re giving them more reason to talk dressed like a harlot! Jesus, child! Look at your hair!” 

Bonnie’s gaze flickered to the mirror in the foyer. She shrieked, remembering she hadn’t removed her hairpins.

Niklaus stepped forward, holding his finger up as a sign of respect. “May I interject?”

Both women’s heads turned toward Niklaus sharply.

“No!”

“You’ve embarrassed yourself enough for today. I’ve called His Grace here to do damage control. Allow Miranda to dress you properly so that you may join us for breakfast.” 

Before she could protest, Sheila shot her a stern look. The decision was final. Bonnie’s shoulders slumped as she turned on her heels, letting Miranda guide her back to her chambers. Once she was out of sight, Sheila turned to Niklaus, who wore an amused expression despite the faded handprint of her granddaughter on his cheek.

“I apologize for her outburst,” Sheila began.

“No need,” Niklaus assured with a wave of his hand. “However, I do require a formal invitation,” he reminded, peering at their threshold.

Sheila gasped softly. “Of course, Your Grace. Do come in. Though I feel compelled to remind you that if you try anything…” 

“…Ah, yes. My invitation is revoked,” he finished. “I assure you, I come in peace, Lady Bennett.”

“Good. Then I don’t need to remind you what will happen if that changes,” she said with a stony look. Niklaus nodded before following Sheila into their Great Room.

“I’m sure that Granddaughter of yours will gladly put me out of my misery should I step out of line.”

Sheila’s icy tone softened, and her shoulders slumped just a tad as she regarded the creature before her. Niklaus was an oddity—a freak of nature. The first of his kind, he was known as the Original Hybrid and stemmed from the family of Original Vampires. 

Sheila’s great ancestor, Ayana Bennett, cast the spell of immortality for their family after their mother, Esther Mikaelson, begged and pleaded for mercy following the death of her youngest child, Henrik. Rogue wolves had mauled Henrik due to what the Mikaelson family referred to as Niklaus’s negligence.

The spell backfired, and while they could live forever, they couldn’t walk in the sun without daylight rings and were forced to feed on the blood of innocents to sustain themselves. Niklaus on the otherhand was different. Due to the duality of his nature, he was part Lycanthrope, Part Vampire, making him naturally resistant to the daggers used to immobilize them, and he could walk in the sun without assistance.

“You really shouldn’t provoke her. You know her magic is unstable,” Sheila reminded as she fed the fireplace with more wood. Niklaus moved with supernatural grace to assist her with the task. “This is how you two ended up in this… situation,” she said, taking the moment to segway into why she’d summoned him to their estate.

Niklaus grinned. “She’s an easy target. Very temperamental and easy to get a rise out of.” He used his supernatural strength to splinter a piece of wood and fed each piece into the fire. The hearth roared to life, and warmth engulfed them both. Though winter was weeks behind them, there was still a chill in the morning and night air that could frost your toes.

“That temper will be her undoing,” Sheila tsked.

“Hers and mine,” Niklaus teased.

“Since we’re here, I demand you tell me what happened between you two in that cottage last night. Based on what Lady Mystledown has written, it sounds scandalous. We’ve had zero time to get over her mishap at the party, and now this.”

Niklaus smiled as his mind lingered on last night’s events. His smirk prompted a disheartened look from Sheila, causing him to sober immediately. “Nothing significant happened, I assure you,” he corrected, relaxing when Sheila did.

“Then what was that damn smile?” Sheila removed the distance between them, standing toe-to-toe with Niklaus, ready to smite him if necessary.

Niklaus, feeling every bit of Sheila’s late ancestor’s ire, braved a step back.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, though he couldn’t stop grinning. “Just relentless teasing and bickering,” he assured. Sheila rolled her eyes before calming.

“I see why she’s always yelling at you,” she muttered.

“I tend to have that effect,” he agreed, before finally settling for professionalism. “May I propose a solution to save reputation and keep the Duchess’s name out of the Societal Papers?” 

“Short of an engagement, I doubt what you’ve come up with will suffice.” There was a pause. The longest she’d ever heard Niklaus go without speaking. “…Dear Goddess…”

“Just until the Social Season is over. Then, she’d be free to do whatever she desires.”

“How will you convince her to go along with this?” Sheila reached for the glass provided by her servant, smiling when she felt the familiar burn trickle down her throat: precisely how she enjoyed her morning tea.

“I’ve already taken matters into my own hands,” he said, smiling wickedly. “And I’m afraid, she won’t have much of a choice…”

Bonnie Bennett screamed at the top of her lungs. Klaus covered his ears and watched as the birds in the trees hurriedly flew away, disturbed by the outburst. The Earth began to tremble, and the trees swayed as the ground started moving like water. Sheila had been right about taking her someplace secluded to break the news. 

He reached out and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly to snap her out of it. Bonnie slapped his hands away and sent a burst of magic towards him, sending him through the air at blinding speeds.

“You did what?!”

“Based on your outburst, I think you understood me quite fine.”

Bonnie screamed again, and this time, a tree splintered.

“You told the queen—the queen—that we’re engaged?!” Bonnie felt a sob rattle her chest. “What on Earth were you thinking?!”

“Oh, I don’t know; maybe save your reputation?”

“My reputation wouldn’t have needed saving if you had simply taken the route I told you to!” Bonnie was so angry she wanted to spit.

“And I see we’re back to square one,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Look, it’s just until the season is over. I’ll play the villain and dump you when it’s over. It’s what everyone expects will happen.” 

“And how do I benefit? I’ll be known as a soiled fool, dumped by the Rake who’d hop into bed with anything with a pulse!”

He laughed at that—a genuine, belly-deep laugh that stirred her insides in a way she hated to think about.

“Don’t tell me you believe that? Tell me you don’t believe the same papers that ruined your name.”

“I didn’t have to read it. I’ve seen it,” she insisted. Klaus sobered instantly and stepped before her, invading her personal space. Bonnie didn’t budge.

“And what have you seen? Tell me,” he pressured.

“I’ve seen the women you’ve been with,” she said, faltering only slightly when his eyes darkened with something primal. “I’ve seen how you use them and discard them when you’re done,” she said. Her mind wandered to a scandal in particular involving Lady Caroline Forbes. She’d been betrothed to Lord Tyler Lockwood… until she encountered the creature before her.

“Ah, I see,” he said, craftily picking up on which incident Bonnie must have been referring to. “All smoke and mirrors,” he said finally. “Lady Forbes was in a bind, much like yourself, and used me as a means to escape. Ask her yourself the next time you see her.

“In no world would we ever cross paths again,” she said, clearly offended by his insinuations.

“If you don’t accept my courtship, then I’m afraid you might.” 

Bonnie shuddered. Lady Forbes’s name had been sullied beyond repair. She’d been stripped of her title and disgraced, forced to run a house for women of… similar fates.

“You foul beast. Are you threatening me?”

Niklaus chuckled at the insult. “Depends on what you’re prepared to do about it if I am.”

The pair locked eyes in a battle of intense wills. The longer they glared at one another, the more her anger faded from intense distrust and distress to… mild curiosity.

She wondered if the golden ring in his irises was ever-present or only appeared when…

“Careful, Miss Bennett,” he smirked. “You may get lost in them.”

“You wish,” she countered weakly with a roll of her eyes.

“I suppose now would be the perfect time to inform you that the queen has summoned us to her manor. We must leave at once.”

Bonnie stomped her foot and kissed her teeth. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

“Of course you can,” he countered. “Reputation is everything, and love… well, that’s optional.” He stepped away from her, bowing slightly. “I trust you can find your way back?” 

Bonnie balked, but could say nothing as he’d already vanished. “That weasely son of a…”

“It seems love is no longer a luxury—it’s a decree.”

Stay tuned... Find the 1st installment here...

Find the 3rd installment here...

[aihaloos]

So T3 huh.

Okay okay just some thoughts bc I'm not good at analyzing + theorizing. The indented ones are the more unserious ones to cope

(I think it's obvious I have a favourite (Muu))

The static prisoners are definitely static and dead, unfortunately. Mahiru has a black veil over her head, a usual piece in a deathbed for women.

WE DON'T GET A NEW HARUKA SONG NOOOO my baby boy I'm gonna miss you 💔

I'm not sure about why Yuno cut her hair, but it might be for mourning. Some people do that. (Yuno and Mahiru could be considered friends, couldn't they?)

One thing's for sure, she looks great with short hair, even if I'll miss that pretty ponytail of hers.

Fuuta is definitely recruited into the cult. It's screaming in your face. There's a really good post by @/snakes-and-fluff about how he needs a purpose, and Amane clearly, with her cultish and extremely strong beliefs, managed to rope Fuuta in it.

He looks silly but I love that for him lol. Also yes Amane my daughter go manipulate your big brother into joining your very toxic belief system!! I love you so much/plat (/nsrs)

Speaking of Fuuta, he definitely was the one to directly kill Shidou. There's no way Amane could've done it by herself, but Fuuta definitely could. Shidou wouldn't have fought back since duh, he's suicidal + has a soft spot for children. He still sees Fuuta as someone to look after, and knowing Amane is the one behind this, he wouldn't fight back past some instinctual need to live.

RIP DILF (D stands for both Doctor and Dad) I'm gonna miss you and your beautiful wife

With Shidou gone, obviously Mahiru would lose medical care and die. Haruka also wouldn't have any obstructions, the system doesn't protect him from himself unfortunately, and Shidou can't give medical care.

Looks like the guilty prisoners this time around get a headpiece. Muu seems to be wearing a beekeeper's veil with brambles, which is interesting.

She def got the most drip other than Yuno, keep slaying queens <3 I love you/plat

I think the veil ties into her queen bee symbolism. A queen bee who's obstructed from her subjects. She has no influence and no external protection. It basically removes her power as a queen bee.

The brambles I'm less sure, but it *might* be a reference to Jesus' crown of thorns. The "king/queen" being sent to the crucifix. (Not sure abt this bc I'm not familliar with much literature. This is probably a huge stretch.)

And just like Jesus she did nothing wrong 💔 Just a bit of compliance with an already corrupt system yk.... free my girl Muu she doesn't deserve this 💔💔💔 (Yes I'm a Muu apologist now shhhh)

I don't have much to say about Kazui and Mikoto. All I know is that they look depressed.(/lh)

I sure hope we get Midokoto this trial though. Since John's confirmed to be a new alter I need to know who the first alter is. I don't think John is gone but I just. Yk. Wanna know.

Also guys see this is why you don't smoke. You either end up depressed or dead. Give up smoking now !!!111!1!!!11!!!! (And join our very cute cult by my very cute very sweet very darling cult leader daughter Amane) (Please come join us we have a magical girl anime featuring her)

Also LMAOAOAOAO KOTOKO FR GOT MUZZLED.... The wolf symbolism didn't fail us guys 💯💯💯 (This one is more obvious than Muu's idk what you want me to say)

I think it's interesting both alive guilty prisoners got a headpiece as a restrainer. I wonder how the two sleep with those on...

[writingoddess1125]

The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you. Final Part

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk X FemReader

Healthy mix of Angst and Fluff.

Support me on Ko-Fi

Author Note at End!-

Buggy

Dee woke up first, feeling the scratching of wood on his face. Sitting up quickly he saw they were in a cell- more accurately the brig of a ship. Sitting up quickly he felt his head throbbing in discomfort, he saw Bee also knocked out and shook him hard.

"Get up-" He hissed, smacking Bee across the cheek which snapped him away.

"What the h-" Dee slammed his hand against his brothers lips quickly. Bee noticing were they were and rubbing the side of his head. Dee carefully removing his hand-

"We have to be quiet..."

"Do you remeber what happened?" Bee questioned, Dee shaking his head. It was all too fuzzy for him to remeber.

"Doesnt matter.. we just gotta get out of here" Bee nodded at this and both kids stood up, Dee deciding to climb to the top of the cell greatful he had been in the crowsnest for a while and learned how to climb the mast.

"Hey this ship is old enough, I think if we push in this plank will pop up and we can try and shimmy our way up"

Bee followed his twins lead and climbed up next to him- Both beginning to push on the plank and pry it from its position. Dee greatful they were both skinny kids slipped his way through the open planking the dim space before pulling Bee up behind him. Once in they looked around.

They stared in awe- realizing this is must have been were they were stashing the treasure- it was small just big enough for the twins to stand with an inch of head space above them.

Bee grabbed some gold coins and shoved them into his pocket with a greedy smile. However Dee eyes went to a series of 3 boxes nearly stuck in a corner, kneeling down as he grabbed one and cracked it open seeing some odd looking fruit.

"Did you find food?" Bee said appearing like the Imp he was and peering down at it- it was boxes of fruit. Both boys groaned at the sight, You forced them to eat fruit most the time since they didn't really have a taste for healthy. Bee picked up the first one he saw and held it with one hand and frowned-

"That's it? Just some old fruit? They don't even have chocolate?" He grumbled figuring better tasting stuff was more valuable.

"Just shut up and eat it- We don't know if we will get food again" Dee argued back, Grabbing one from the box as well. Insync the two took a bite of their respective fruits and shivered in disgust as they tasted it. Bee barely able to swallow the first bite and quickly chucked it at a wall-

"What the hell was that!?" He yelled, Dee chewing his own in disgust before his eyes widened as he covered his brothers mouth. But it was far too late. Heavy footsteps quickly marched above them and both boys hit as the secret hatch above them opened- they saw a large pale man frowning as he looked at his secret treasures, he had a big purple fur coat, a wide brim hat that matched, way too small of eyes that made him look squashed like a pug. As he looked around clearly keeping an eye on his treasure Dee unfortunately was not keeping an eye on Bee who had grabbed a gold Dagger from the collection of goods and stabbed the captians hand. The large man yelled and jumped back-

Just like with all things- It seemed improve was Bee's go to!

Like two little rabbits both boys rushed out of the hiding hole and rushed out the Captian's Quarters while the blinged out Captian yelled and yanked the knife from his hand.

Dee and Bee ran through the halls of the ship, This wasn't like their dad's so it was difficult to navigate. However as if luck was on their side they rushed to the Main Deck- there they saw the ship and crew-

It was like they got flash banged by glitter- All the crew mates were wearing sequence in some way while the ship looked like someone had dunked it in cheap glitter and rhinestones.

"Did we get kidnapped by literally the lamest pirates?-" Bee questioned as the crew looked at the twins in shock.

"The hostages are escaping!!!" A crewmate yelled as all hell broke loose, The boys scrambled and darted in different directions. Dodging and lacing through the grown men at best they could- the boys were quite literally running laps around these idiots and having them knock into each other-

"Enough!!" What was assumed was the first mate held a gun up and fired directly at Dee clearly not caring about keeping a hostage for ransom anymore.

Dee stood in shock as the bullet came right at him- Before silence. Bee stood there in shock as Dee slowly looked down, There sat the bullet perfectly stuck to his chest. Carefully he pulled it off him and dropped it to the ground. Shocked just as much as the Crew members.

"THEY MUST HAVE EATEN A DEVIL FRUIT! THROW THEM OVERBOARD!!"

The Crew yelled before the grown men all charged at the boys- Dee picking up an oar and ready to defend himself. Till the oar didn't come off his hands- he started to wave it around wildly to get it off, Hitting the men in the process of doing so.

"Sorry!!" He yelled as he tried to kick off the oar from his hands but it smacked a guy in his teeth and landed perfectly back in his grasp sticking once again. His feet sticking to the ground as he bent backwards as a guy jumped at him and jumped into the sea around them.

"I-Im sorry!-" Dee cried as he spun around and the oar stuck to him swung and smacked another pirate inbetween the legs.

The oar finally unsticking from his hands and falling to the floor with a unflattering thud.

He looked to hear cackling as he watched Bee have the damn time of his life- He bounced like a spring everywhere, going incredibly fast as he punched different crewmates with the force of the abilities.

It seemed everytime Bee swung a wave of force would come out of him sending men flying at kicks and punches. He laughed loudly at this and looked on at the destruction he was causing.

Once all the crew mates were knocked out the hard steps and laughter from the Lower Deck caught their attention. The massive Captian clapping in praise as he walked up to the Main Deck.

"The Tack Tack fruit and the Bam Bam Fruit- Fitting you two would stumble upon it! One makes you Just sticky enough that nothing on the outside can harm you just stick, while the Bam Bam fruit lets you double your natural abilties every time you hit it twice"

The Captian bellowed as he stared down at the two boys- Pulling off his coat with a laugh revealing the many gold chains on his body and heavy rings on his fingers.

"Behold a true devil fruit! The Bling Bling Fruit!" He yelled as he clapped his hands and his whole body turned into glittering gold before punching the ground hard shattering thay part of the deck, The boys jumped out of the way of the impact.

"Too bad it won't keep you from being crusted to death!!" He yelled as he began to jump and use himself as a human Canonball- The boys barely dodging the attacks, the few times Bee tried to make a hit the mental just hurt his hands and made him jump away.

The Blinged out Captian continue to terrorize the boys, as well as landing blows on them that they barely were able to escape.

The Captian laughed loudly as the two boys were just trying a means to escape at this point, The older man hitting Dee who flung overboard barely able to stick to the side of the ship to keep from hitting the water.

"DANNY!" Bee called out as he rushed to pull his brother up. As he did so he saw the Captian power up and jump ready to crush to two under his weight.

"BLING BLING CRUSSH- OOF!-" He cried out as a Special Muggy Ball suddently smacked into his back exploding and propelled him into the ocean past the two kids. Both boys frozen as they saw The Big Top ship came into View, Buggy at the front as massive hooks came to the side of the blinged out ship and pulled it close.

"DAD!!!" Both boys cried out, Buggy and You rushing from the Big Top to the smaller pirate ship quickly and towards the twins. Buggy using his Chop Chop abilities to grab both twins from so close to the rails and pull them close.

"Oh thank Heavens you're alright!!" You cried out as you kissed their faces, tears rushing down your cheeks as you held them both close.

"How did you find us?" Bee fried out, As you smoothed your hand over his and Dee's face.

"You don't make your ship shiny cause you turn into a sailing Lighthouse thay anyone can track-" Buggy pointed out as he gestured to the glittery ship.

"Are you two hurt? Oh my goodness is that a busted lip!?" You cried as you looked at Dee's face.

"We are okay, we did most of the damage anyway! And the bullets didn't hurt me!"

"Yeah We were beating them all up too! And fought the whole crew with our awesome abilties!!" Bee yelled excitedly.

Buggy froze at this like a record scratch, staring at his sons with the most deadpan stare he could possibly muster as his eye twitched.

"Boys- Please elaborate on what the hell you mean by that?-" He asked as he put one of each hand on his shoulder and kneeled down to their eyelevel.

Bee grinned widely at this as he giggled excitedly, before snacking Dee and his hand sticking to his brothers face. Dee glared at this and yanked him off him aggressively before kicking his brother in the shin- making Bee cry out and hop on one leg, of course after that second jump he shot through the air.

Buggy giving his signature scream in shock before his hands flew out and grabbed Bee quickly before he flew into the ocean.

"YOU TWO ATE DEVIL FRUITS?!" He screamed out as he brought back bee carefully and proceeded to grill them on finding out how and why-

"Yeah the Tack Tack fruit and the Bam Bam fruit!!" Boy boys said in unison.

They ate a devil fruit- both ate a devil fruit... you turned away and felt your body stagger a bit as the words that Buggy was screaming in panic about to the twins was mumbled on you-

Both of them... Cursed to never swim... while you're out on sea... and both of them are pre-teen boys that don't listen...

You didn't remeber your face smashing into the main deck due to you fainting- However you sure as hell felt it when next thing you know Buggy is fanning your face and holding you in his lap in panic. Your boys standing around you as well and a few crewmates with a wet rag for you and a first aid kit.

"Buggy... please tell me your genes did not win and have not one...but both our twins eat a devil fruit"

You whimper out, Buggy wincing at your words a little and nodding that unfortunately it was true-

"Oh dear Gods..." You sigh- almost ready to faint again.

"Mommy I promise we won't cause any trouble" You heard Bee said, his voice softer then normal as he was clearly worried. Dee nodding in agreement as he too looked worried that you were mad at them.

"I know my loves- I... it's just very dangerous"

You say softly, Sitting up with the help of Biggy who rubs your back in comfort. Dee and Bee stand there nervous for a moment, before Dee whispers to his brother who grins and reach into his baggy pants pockets.

"Here Mommy! I have just the thing to show we will be okay- TAHA!" He yelled out as he pulled out two large handfuls of treasure.

Both you and Buggy's jaw drops at the sight. "Where did you get that!?" You yell and Dee smiles at this.

"On that ship we escaped" He said proudly, Buggy started in saying to bring it to the treasure room but the boys refused. Saying it was theirs and they would hide it in the best spot! Running from the both of you laughing as they plotted their treasure spot.

"I suppose a Pirates life is for them" You said with a tired chuckle, staring at the two as they ran away to the lower deck. Buggy helped you stand fully this time, not bothering to chase the kids for their nice lump of treasure.

"They will be amazing pirates for sure- and great men"

Feeling a arm around your waist, glancing up with a raised brow to see Buggy wide grin.

"You know, I haven't gotten that much time with the boys especially in those important younger years. I did miss so much and wish I got to experience those baby years as a Dad"

You slowly raised your brow as your eyes narrowed at the man who continued to grin with mischief in his eyes.

"What if we-"

You sent him a glare that made him smile nervously.

"Hell Fucking No-"

Shanks

It had been about 6 months since Shanks had returned into Vivians life. It had been slow going but getting there. The two had days were it was just them together and you could see that spark in Vivian's eye slowly coming back as her and Shanks hung out more-

Today was one of those days, Both having returned from a day out boating and having a picnic.

"Hey Mommy! We're home!" Vivian yelled put holding the empty picnic basket in her arms as Shanks smiled at you.

"Hey you two, How was today's boating adventure?" You ask, Smirking at the proud smile on Shanks face as Vivian began to mindlessly chatter about how much fun she had with Shanks. The man was clearly doing everything in his power to make it up to Vivian.

"I'm glad you two had fun"

As you speak this a wash off a odd feeling it you- You lean against the countertop, feeling lighthearted and dizzy. Assuming you had first thought you may have over worked yourself or not had enough water.

"(Y/N)?.." You hear Shanks call out to you as you felt odd. Closing your eyes as you staggered and fell being barely caught by a panic Shanks who called your name but the words warping before you feel unconscious.

When the doctor had arrived he had done every test imaginable and came out with grim results. An illness that couldn't be cursed and only be drawn out- he did everything he could in terms of medication however you all knew it was grim. Vivian took the news worse then anyone, insisting that you could improve if she did more. You and Shanks both having to slow her down and keep her from having a breakdown at that.

It had been a month since your diagnosis and you knew you were rapidly falling apart. Your legs being the first thing that went- you lips starting to get a sickly shade of blue and pain coursing through your form at all times. Vivian having decided to try and become a sort of care taker for you despite Shanks being there who helped you daily, she was desperate in wanting you to get better and it broke your heart to see-

"It's okay Mommy, you'll get better. Just takes time"

Laying in bed you watch Vivican fuss with your blankets talking about keeping you warm so you could get better. However you knew you wouldn't... your time was approaching and there wasn't anything to be done.

"Vi.. could you do me a favor and run to the market to get my favorite icecream?" You ask softly, watching her nod and run downstairs to do as you asked. Leaving you and Shanks alone, there was a few moments of silence before you sighed.

"Shanks... when I'm gone please take Vivian with you... she can't be alone" Shanks opened his mouth, most likely yo protest you dying but you held a hand up calmly.

"I know what will be happening to me... and in truth, I don't want to suffer either.. which is the second thing I need to ask of you-"

You saw his eyes water at this, bowing his head at the words. You knew you were asking too much of him- But he was the only one you trusted now and needed his help.

"What do you want done?..." He asked softly, his voice barely over a whisper.

"First... I want to have a nice dinner with all of you- And I want to tuck Vivian in... after she goes to bed.. me and you share one final drink together"

You say calmly, reaching over to grab the bottle of pain pills the doctor had given you. Holding the bottle out to him, his resolve cracking at this as tears rolled down his cheeks. Clutching the bottle hard and nodding.

"Okay... I can do that... And after?" He spoke between tears and trying to control his emotions. Tears running down your own cheeks at this point.

"Cremation.. and my ashes spread in the sea... the most beautiful place you can think of"

Shanks nodded at this tears running down his cheeks as he slipped the bottle into his jacket pocket for later.

When Vivian got back she was met with a surprising display, both her parents in the kitchen cooking. You seated on one of the chairs slowly and carefully cutting up ingredients while her father was stood adding it to different pots and mixing it with a spoon.

"Ah Vi, Thank you for the ice cream love. Wanna help us make dinner?"

Vivian smiled widely at this and nodded. It turned into a wonderful time together, the family making a wonderful curry dinner that was filled with laughter and nice stories- You and Shanks talking about your guys dating in the past, Vivian felt like she was in cloud nine. You were smiling and cheerful while Shanks was attentive and kind.

Once having your fill and eating the ice cream together Vivian watched you and Shanks together. After the family time Shanks carried you upstairs to Vivian's room were you read to her, kissing her forehead and tucking her in to the best of your abilities.

That evening once Vivian was put to bed Shanks laid you back in your own, careful in his task as he tucked you in with his hand and added several pillows to make you comforble.

Once laid out he grabbed two bottles of Rum. With shaking hands he added the crushed up pain pills in one and mixed it calmly before handing it to you.

Tears rolling down both of your guys cheeks as you both sat there together. Shanks leaned over and gently kisses your lips, sniffling as tears rushed down his cheek.

"I want to say I love you (Y/N)... and you have blessed me with not only your presence but our beautiful daughter.."

You smile at his kind words, returning the kiss and caressing his cheek.

"I love you too Shanks, you are a wonderful man who made me a Mother to a beautiful daughter.. I know you'll take wonderful care of her"

Holding your bottle up you both cheers and take the first sip of many, At this you two drink that night and for the final time.

When day rose, you were gone. Vivian had been woken up by the sound of the doctor talking, rushing out to see him and Shanks talking calmly his face red from crying. She rushed to him and peered into your room were a white sheet covered your form. Her eyes widening and her body running cold at the sight- She didn't even hear the words from Shanks as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

She stepped forward and he followed silently behind as she took a seat on the bed and touched the outline of your hand. Tears running down her cheeks as she looked on at your covered form, her hand hesitating in wanting to lift the shroud but stopped herself. Instead looking at Shanks who was silently crying while standing there.

"W-Was she in pain?" She asked, Shanks shook his head no at this. Vi nodded softly at this, before standing up from her seat and stepping towards Shanks and pressed her face against him- slowly her sobs began to fill the room as she wrapped her arms around his leg and cried. Shanks placing a hand on her head as he let her, she needed to cry.

The next few days had been a blur, Vivian had said her final goodbyes to you, crying by your side before the doctor took your body to he cremated. Shanks took control, he had organized the memorial, picked up the ashes to bring with him on his journey to sea and been with Vivian every step of the way. Vivian keeping the rights to the house and bakery when she wished to return, as well as packing up her room to be set onto his ship.

It was so much going on and all too quickly, yet it seemed like he was watching it in slow motion. Watching how Vivian looked out at sea or held the apron you always wore, it was hard for her yet she seemed to understand and accept it as well.

"Vivian.. are you ready?" Shanks called out, Stepping into her empty room as he crew took the last few boxes to his ship. She was standing there looking out the window holding your apron. Snapping from her thoughts she looked at him and nodded, folding the apron and putting it in her suitcase before following Shanks silently.

Once to the ship Vivian hesitated for a while, standing there as she watched the ship bustle to set sail as quickly as possible. She turned to look at the island, holding her suitcase still as the wind picked up through her red hair.

Vivian stood there, tears running down her cheeks as she looked out at what had once been her home with you.. her life that she knew with you was gone.

Feeling a hand on her back she looked up to see Shanks, looking as glum as her as he looked down at her. No words would be a comfort to her, they both knew that... but ironically they would only have each other from now on and the memories of you to keep them floating.

Mihawk

It was like clash of the titans in your home- Ever since you and Mihawk's tumble on the couch.

Mihawk and Alucare seemed to be constantly and silently fighting with each other. While they claimed it was training you were pretty sure Alucare taking a razor to the back of Mihawk's head was not apart of training or the need for Mihawk to quite literally toss his son to the other side of the island as punishment.

However it seemed in some way they were getting along- mainly when the two did real training in the orchard by your home. Since Alucare had a interest in blades Mihaek had taken up to training him- even procuring a curved sword he called a kilij to train him with. Alucare had taken up to this training well and had been getting better everyday. It had genuinely turned into a rather picturesque family envirment for the past few months much to your delight.

Today was just the same, Alucare and Mihawk up at dawn to train- Then silently fighting with each other, you cleaned up from breakfast and right on cue Mihawk walked in having let Alucare leave for school taking a seat at the dining room table.

You two shared a small conversation with each other as Mihawk unwined, you pausing however to take a break.

You rubbed your lower back in mild discomfort, you didn't notice Mihawk's gaze on you. How his eyes lingered on your form as you moved through the house.

"Dinner? Sure we can have dinner together next week, sounds like fun- Oh before I forget let me get you some tea-"

"Let me" You heard him say, and stand up quickly. Gesturing for you to take a seat quickly as he went to make the tea.

"It's okay Mih-"

"You're back hurts. It's more then acceptable to make my own tea and for you to rest.. You shouldn't work yourself so hard" Mihawk says calmly and surprises you by how he just took over the kitchen and sets down a cup of lavender tea, you raised a brow at this since he normally drank black.

"It's just mild back pain-" You pointed out, narrowing your eyes at him. Something was clearly up.

"Let's go to the doctors... if you are uncomfortable it's safer" He insisted as he took a seat and sipped his own tea ignoring your hard stares.

"...You know something don't you?-" You point out adding some honey to the lavender tea. But he stays quiet and continued to sip his tea.

At first you refuses to go to the doctors, hoping to prybit out of Mihawk what he was hiding- However the man just kept pestering you to go. It only took a few hours of his nagging for you to decide to go.

A few hours passing and Alucare returned, Clearly having decided to skip classes again to just return home. Walking in cautiously to see Mihawk in the kitchen and you nowhere to be found.

"Where is mom?" Alucare asked as he saw Mihawk quickly chopping vegetables-

"She will be returning shortly-" was all he said, but Alucare knew that tone. The old man was up to something.

The door slammed open and both men turned in surprise looking like two startled black cats with their fur raised- You were never one to flare your temper but oh boy did you look pissed. Holding a paper in your hand and glaring hard at Mihawk.

"You knew!!" You yelled pointing at him, Alucare stepping to the side out of the line of fire. Mihawk lowered the cooking knife and turned to look at you as you stomped forward.

"What did the doctor say?" He asked calmly, a almost playful tone on his face as you tossed the paper directly to his chest which he caught and began reading through carefully.

"You knew you got me pregnant again! You knew this whole damn time didn't you!!" You yelled, Alucare jaw dropping at the news and clearly now wanting to leave the room.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" He said calmly as he read through the paper, a smirk on his face as he read through it. You snatch the doctors paper from his hands that indicated you were in the early stages of pregnancy.

"You knew!- You ass!" You blush flustered as you hold the papers. Mihawk staring at you blankly and shrugging slightly like he didn't know what you were talking about- You placed your hand on your hips and narrowed your gaze.

"Damn it Mihawk we are both too old for a baby! Besides I can't fit a newborn in this house its-"

"Come move in with me" Mihawk said, this surprised you and Alucare together over how serious Mihawk seemed about this.

"I have missed the birth of one of my children already.. as well as you being forced to raise him on his own- I will not allow it a second time... I want both of you to move in with me" He explained, Gesturing to both of you with his hands. An air of silence followed.

"Mihawk- I couldn't just mooch off of you, I mean what would they think if just a random person moved into your home? I-I wou-" You were cut off again with a raised hand.

"You wouldnt be mooching off of me, you will be my wife and if anyone who dares come to my island has an issue with you as my wife they will learn quickly not to-"

Pause. Wife? Your eyebrows raised at hearing this, your cheeks feeling far too warm and chest fluttering.

Alucare looking slightly surprised by this as well.

"Wife? Since when have you married my mother?-" Alucare demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I planned on asking next week, however things have changed with the arrival of your sibling. So I'm asking now" He said bluntly.

That's when it clicked, thay dinner that Mihawk had asked you to join him at- That ment he was most likely going to propose then to you and ask you anyway to be his wife-

You covered your mouth in shock at this revolution. Mihawk smiled calmly at this, as he stepped closer to you. Alucare scrunched his face up in disgust at being caught in this sort of emotional situation.

"...If you're still interested I'd prefer to ask now. The ring order won't be ready till tommorow however..." Mihawk admitted as he placed his hands on your hips. Tears welling up in your eyes and you nodded.

"Yes, I will marry you-" You whisper out, Hugging the man you were so close to castrating just moments ago. Mihawk returning the gesture calmly as his hand settled on your waist.

"We will be moved out by the end of this week, it will be a bit of a sail to my Island so I will make sure everything is safe for the journey" He stated calmly, Alucare looking ready to barf at this point.

"I get no say in this do I-" Alucare asked as he stared at both of you.

"No."

"No-"

And that was that.

It seemed Mihawk really did manage to do as said, by the weeks end he had purchased a larger ship since he didn't think the Hitsugibune sea craft he usually used would carry you all comforbly and keep you safe. So he purchased a larger sea vessel, hiring also some local men to pack up the house and load everything onto the ship- Since your house was tiny it didn't take long.

Mihawk hadn't let you lift a finger- when you offered to help move things or even to cook lunch to bring on the journey he had refused and took the task himself. Alucare had also been weirdly okay with this all, he hadn't made a lot of friends in school so he wasnt attached to that- He'd explored all of the island and neighboring islands as well so he didn't care about the area-

Just like Mihawk had said, by the end of the week the small family was ready to depart- everything had been packed, enough food for up to 6 people to last a year instead of 3 as well as every supply imaginable.

You held Mihawk's had as he escorted you on the ship- still helicopering you. One hand on your lower back as he lead you on board.

"Mihawk Dear I'm not made of glass" You giggle softly, seeing the rather focused look on his eyes as he made sure you were fine while on board.

"I'm aware, but I wish for your safety only Darling" He says softly, Making you blush deeply and turn away in surprise. Alucare followed behind and rolled his eyed at the flirting between his parents.

Alucare looked at the island he had called home for the last time, feeling the tug of the small ship as it pulled from the docks ready to set sail.

This was the start of a new life.. and while he would never say it- he was excited for whatever was to come.

Author Note:

WOW! This sure has been one hell of a journey! I'm so glad that all of you have enjoyed these stories and have given me the chance to write for so many of you! These series has gifted me my first 800+ followers to my page and I couldn't be happier!

As a way to celebrate and yelp organize these stories I have organized them and put them on AO3! That and with some extra stories to go with them! They are also separated into individual stories as well!

Twice as Difficult Buggy x Reader and Twins

Memories that Wait Shanks x Reader and Vivian

Copy and Paste Mihawk x Reader and Alucare

Thank you all again and I hope to see you all soon!

Tag List-

@lunanight1021 @lolavegas20 @cuteastrash @thatcharmingmushroom @marsilis @thesadvampire @amecchii @zaphira-san @matronofthevoid @mothmans-left-nipple @hoe4fiction @manyimaginativemuses @alyholmes02 @arianyo @chaoticpercy-jacksonkid @lansy-4 @skeetyeetyote @untoldshortsofthefandoms @dank-memes19 @peachycuptea @kenqki @psycheflame @commanderfreethatdust

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Sweet Revenge Leads to Rotten Teeth: Chapter 3

Masterlist

The smell of fresh paint and drywall filled your sense as you moved from room to room. Even if you hadn’t been debriefed on the hotel, it would have been apparent that the building was new. Charlie glossed over most of the floor for residents, focusing on the amenities they had added. A pool and gym, extensive library, a craft room. It was a far cry from heaven, but it was certainly nice.  

This might just be a pleasant mission after all. 

As you moved forward you took notice of Alastor. His expression was mild, lips curling up gently, his eye unfocused. He looked rather bored. Thought this didn’t surprise you, you'd met his type many times. Arrogant and self-absorbed divas. They only care if it’s about them or could benefit them. Friendships are transactional, they live for themselves and no one else. They don’t apologize. If they are wronged, they don't believe in getting fair, they believe in getting even.  

He’d honestly make a great archangel.  

It was clear from their brief interaction earlier that Alastor and Lucifer did not get along. That also didn’t surprise you. Lucifer was the extract opposite, or at least he had been. Kind to a fault, and ready to help at a moment’s notice. Charlie resembled him not only in looks but in demeanor as well.  

The memory drifted in. Back when you were giving all the little creatures their sound. Lucifer would rush to finish his work early so you wouldn’t have to be alone. He used to get so upset when the animals would struggle. A fawn tripping while learning to walk or a bee struggling to fly in the rain would send him into near tears.  

That was the Lucifer that had been your best friend through thick and thin.  

That was the Lucifer you had fallen in love with.  

That was the Lucifer that had lied to you without an ounce of remorse. 

That was the Lucifer that crushed you under his heel into the dirt.  

Your breath hitched as you pulled yourself out of the memory. You hadn’t thought about it in a very long time, and you planned on keeping it that's way. With Lucifer roaming the halls that would be harder than usual, but you were sure you could manage.  

You stopped outside another door, grateful for the distraction. Charlie bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement.  

“I saved this for last; I think you'll really like it.” She smiled wide as she swung the door. "This is our conservatory.”  

She flourished her arm outwards, displaying the room. It was more like an orchestra practice room with how large it was. Light warm wood floors and colorful pieces of acoustic foam lined the walls. Floor to ceiling windows allowed light to cascade in.  

“I was hoping to start doing music therapy, so I made sure to stack as much as I could.” She began scampering about the room. Showing off all her instruments to you. You smiled and sighed as she moved about.  

She’s more like her father than she’ll ever know.  

“For percussion I didn’t really know what to grab so I stuck with drums and a xylophone.” Charlie said  

“Glockenspiel” you corrected.  

“Gesundheit” Alastor quipped next to you.  

“What?” Charlie looked at you puzzled.  

“That” You pointed toward the instrument in question “Is a glockenspiel, this” with a wave of your hand the percussion instrument appeared. “Is a xylophone. A very common mistake my dear.” You moved the instrument next to its look-a-like cousin. “There” you remarked.  

“Well now we have both!” Charlie said that ever-present optimism still firmly in place. Alastor rolling his eyes at the interaction did not go unnoticed by you. What you saw as a valuable teaching moment, he clearly saw as a waste of his time.  

Typical.  

“That was all I really wanted to show you. Do you want me to get you set up in a room?” Charlie beamed up at you, far more relaxed than before.  

“Actually, do you have an office, or head of operations? I would like to get a grasp on your redemption plan before I settle in.”  

“Oh, uh yest I have an office.” She fidgeted with her hands briefly.  

“Splendid” was your reply as you followed her a few floors down.  

As Alastor, Charlie and yourself entered the office the only thing of note that you saw were childlike drawings and figures on a cork board. Rainbows and smiling faces shone on each page.  

Charlie sat forcefully in the desk chair, spinning around before stopping herself to face you.  

“Right” She started, confined kicking up in her “Let’s get started.”  

You sat on the other side of the desk, manifesting a notebook, pen and laptop. You heard a growl coming from the other side of the room but didn’t bother to deign Alastor with a response. Pissing him off further.  

“May I see your resident files please?” You began writing the date in your notebook, expecting Charlie to move and retrieve the information. When you noticed nothing in your periphery you looked up at her puzzled.  

“Resident files?” She asked, hesitancy laced in her tone.  

“Yes” you confirmed, “The files for your resident.” Charlie stiffened up, chewing on her lips and avoiding eye contact with you.  

“Do you not have any information on your residents Miss Morningstar?” You asked. Snickers could be heard from the peanut gallery across the room, but you continued to deny him the attention he so clearly wanted.  

“What kind of information are you looking for exactly?” She asked, still not making eye contact with you.  

“Names, nicknames, contact information, room assignments, dietary restrictions, preferred therapy treatments, projected redemption timelines, sessions notes, special living accommodations.” You laid out the thing you could think of off the top of your head. Charlie just sat there and stared at you like she did outside.  

“Anything?” You asked.  

“I mean if they have one, I have their phone number saved on my cell.” She offered.  

Alastor was cackling at this point, leaning against as wall holding himself. Clearly trying to contain his joy at the princess’ failings. Charlie shrunk in on herself, frown deep as she stared at the wood grain of her desktop.  

“Alastor if you have nothing to contribute to this conversation you may go.” Your stated.  

“What?” He asked, looking at you as he wiped tears of joy from his eyes.  

“I said get out, Mr. ‘Radio Demon’"” you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you said his earlier given ‘title’. “You’re being dismissed.” You ordered.  

Your stern tone and order sobered him up as he gave you an indignant look.  

“I beg your pardon-” 

“Go on then” you cut him off before he could finish.  

“What?” He asked, his face a mixture of perturbed and confused.  

You looked him up and down before gesturing at him with your hand, clarifying.  

“Beg.”  

You could see rage fill his eyes as he turned and stomped toward the door. A smile curved on your face; oh this wasn't over yet.  

“Wait” you stopped him before he could exit.  

He turned around; a smug smirk held on his face as he assumed you were calling him because you realized you actually needed him  

 “As if’ you thought.  

“The Atwater Kent Model 9” you stated to him. Amusement filled you as you saw his eyes go from confused to horrified to enraged.  

“What?” Charlie’s question almost startled you. You had forgotten she was there. You turned to her smiling as you explained.  

“Fun fact Charlie, a majority of sound quality form a radio comes from the receiver, not the transmitter. That silly little filter of his is replicating Atwater Kent’s Model 9. A pretty middle of the road bread board radio if you ask me.” You could see him begin to distort in your side view. His anger now manifesting into a demonic form.  

“Not as renowned as the RCA Radiola III, not as economical as the Crowley Pup. I mean even Atwater Kent thought so considering the Model 10 came out the same year and was bounds better. Not to mention the Model 12 the following year.”  

Charlie began looking at you concerned. The shadows in the room shifting, the crack in of bone as Alastor's joints began popping and rearranging themselves.  

“So I’m assuming the choice is... sentimental?” You finally turned to acknowledge him. Oh and what a sight you saw. He truly was doing his best to look monstrous. Antlers extended, teeth elongated, neck disproportionate to his body. If you were an unfortunate singer in his path, you would be quite frightened right now.” 

But you are neither of those things.   

“That was all. You may go now.” You stared at him, not breaking eye contact. As he made to lunge at you, you raised your hand. With a flick of your finger, like sending away an insect, Alastor was forced out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.  

Silence hung in the air as you stretched your arms above your head, wings shifting subtly behind you. After a moment you put your hands on the desk and sat up.  

“Alright then, I think your first task is clear, get started on making some resident files. If my timing is correct, it should only be about one in the afternoon, so you should still have plenty of time to work.”  Your things misted away as you walked to the door. “Does that darling little girlfriend of yours know where I’ll be staying, or must I tract down that pesky deer from wherever he is sulking?”  

Charlie blinked, shaking her head desperately trying to clear her mind and comprehend everything that had just happened. “Uhh yeah, Vaggie knows your room.” 

“Perfect.” You opened the door, stopping mid-way. “If I may impart some wisdom?” You asked  

“Go for it” Charlie replied.  

“Knowing how to read people is a necessary skill for what you are endeavoring to do. If you can’t tell friend from foe, this ship will fill with water before you even think to get a bucket. Rule number one, everyone has a tell.”  As you stood there, Charlie cleared her throat.  

“Even you?”  

You smirked “Precisely my girl, even me. Hopefully by the end of my time here you can tell me what it is.” With that you closed the door and headed back down to the foyer.  

- 

You weren't entirely sure if the room selection that you received was due to trying to make a good impression, or if this just was the standard suite, but regardless you were satisfied with your digs.  

Magic swirled around as you molded the room to your liking. Exerting the space inside, making it far bigger than it appeared on the outside. Once you were satisfied you allowed yourself a moment to breath. Walking over to the reading nook you had installed by the window.  

As you walked the plush carpet soothed the soles of your feet. Fluffy and bouncy in a way that as you walked across it, your feet left little impressions. As your arms raised above you to stretch your wings sprung out to follow suit. Sure you could hide them, and most likely would after today, but during such as tumultuous day; having their weight behind you was reassuring.  

Amidst the pops and groans as you stretched, a whisper of rustling floated to your attention. No other being would have caught it, but sound was your essence. You gave everything its song, and nothing escaped your ears unless you let it. You swiftly turned and ground your heel into the head of the serpent that had been slithering through the carpet.  

Lucifer emerged from the floor, palm soothing his head. “Was that really necessary?” He exclaimed indignantly.  

“Really?” You questioned. “You’re the one who snuck into my room, and yet your the one complaining?”  

Lucifer rolled his eyes in response. “Cut the crap Y/n. What are you doing here?”.  

You rolled your eyes right back at him. “What’s the point of even sending a letter if no one reads it?” You snapped back. 

“Why are you here? You specifically. It could have been any angel and yet the angel of music herself had to show up?” He questioned.  

You closed your eyes and sighed. You had been so close to finally relaxing for once.  

“Contrary to what you may believe, I am bound to follow explicitly given orders like all angel folk are. Why am I here? The boys above me said it had to be me and poof here I am. Trust, that I don’t want to be down here just as much as you don’t want me down here.” You spoke firmly. The conversation was grating. You hadn’t spoken to Lucifer in years and the first real conversation you have with him is being accused and accosted in your quarters.  

Lucifer stiffened up, still trying to appear in control and angry. “I just find it curious that after all these years it’s only after Lilith is gone that you show up.” 

The mention of his wife sent a pang through your chest, but you couldn’t dwell on it now. “Oh is she gone? I hadn’t noticed. I have a sound scape to run and armies to lead. I don’t keep tabs on you Luci.”  

Hurt seemed to dwell on his face for a moment before he shook it off. “Don’t call me that”  

You hadn’t even realized that the old nickname had slipped out.  

“If that was all you came here for you may go.” You crossed your arms, praying that was the end of it.  

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” Lucifer asked, his faced darkening.  

You scoffed. “Again, the letter. I am here to help Charlie get this place fully functional. Something you clearly haven’t done considering the rainbowed state of her office.”  

“How dare you.” Lucifer started walking toward you.   

“How dare I what? Tell you the truth?” He stopped. “I’m here to help your daughter, equip her to actually redeem sinners and go home. All Hell does is remind me of the depravity of humanity.”  You turned from him. You couldn’t let him the truth of it all behind your eyes. That the depravity of humans didn’t bother you. What did was being reminded of what you lost, what could have been.  

You sat in the window nook, looking out over the city. “Here’s my offer. I’ll do my best to stay out of your way, if you do your best to stay out of mine. When we must collaborate we will be civil.” You turned to see him over your shoulder. “For Charlie.”  

Lucifer sighed. “For Charlie”.  

As the door closed behind him, you let your head fall to the windowsill. Your mind was far too chaotic now to relax. Emotional turmoil raced within out, bouncing about your skull. Leaning back you summoned a lap harp, content to play out your sorrows into the air for an audience of none.  

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