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buggybambi · 7 months

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yours, cb. | carmen berzatto

summary: carmen writes a letter to you the day before he proposes, reflecting on your relationship.

wc: 1.02k | navigation post

rating: fluff, none! content warnings: none! if any need to be added lmk but as far as i know there are none:-)

“The first time I met you, I was so damn nervous. Richie told me you were back in town and I thought I was convinced that my first time meeting you, I’d screw it up somehow. Jumble all my words, forget my name. I almost did the first time I saw you. That night in the restaraunt with the only light on being one over a table by the fogged up windows. You still look so pretty under that light, you look pretty under anything. Richie told me, ‘she’s sweet’. Sweet doesn’t begin to describe you, angel. My angel.”

"Everything about you was.. so enchanting. I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever met. I never thought people could geniuenly fall in love at first sight, but with you, I realize what they're talking about when they say they laid eyes on their partner and they knew. From the moment I saw you I knew you were meant to be mine. And I yours."

You sat in your shared bedroom, your laptop in your lap as you scrolled through the numerous recipes Sydney had sent to you to review for the menu, since apparently you were hired as taste-tester. "What the hell is that?" You murmur to yourself as you stare at one of the dishes.

The front door opens and then swiftly closes, as you can hear footsteps approaching. You close your laptop just as Carmen appears a second later, practically jumping into your arms, laying his head on your chest. "Hi, bear. You okay?" You ask.

He lets out a soft "mm" as you begin running your hand through disheveled curls. "Just thought about you all day. Wanted to be here. That okay?" He checks, lifting his hand. You place a kiss on his head. "Carm, anytime you need, I'm here."

There's that grin again. There's that spike in his heartbeat when he looks at you, when he talks to you. The way he can feel himself falling deeper into love with you, no matter how long you've been together. There's a comfort in that, almost.

───

"The first time I kissed you, you may not have realized this (or you did any you're just too sweet not to say anything which totally sounds like you, babe) but I think my hands would have won an award for being the sweatiest palms, ever. You know when people say they feel fireworks when they kiss the person they love? I always thought they were being dramatic because until you, I hadn't felt that. But now I know what exactly they mean."

When Carmen wakes up and he realizes that you aren't there, he frowns. His favorite thing to do in the mornings when he wakes up before you do - which happens often - is to kiss you on the cheek and snuggle you for a few minutes before he has to pull himself away.

It isn't until he hears you humming down the hallway making your way back in that he smiles, sitting up to greet you. You come in, two mugs of coffee in hand. "Oh, hey, you're awake." You say, setting the mug down on his nightstand, kissing him before slipping back into your side of the bed, setting your coffee down.

Your phone buzzes in between you both, causing you to look down as your lock screen lights up with texts from Nat. "Am I your lockscreen?" He asks, recognizing the photo in the back. You smile at him, nodding. "Of course you are. You're my favorite person, Carm, why wouldn't you be?"

"And then our first date. The night I almost burned my apartment down because I was staring at you while the food cooked. How is it possible since that day you've gotten prettier? Well, I know the answer, it's because naturally you're gorgeous anyway. But each time I stare at you, it takes me back to that night in my apartment. Our apartment, we just had no idea it would become that then."

He kissed you right then, making you forget about Nat blowing up your phone. "You're my favorite person, too." He whispers against your lips as you smile, kissing him again.

───

"It's weird to think about, you know? How I'm going to propose to you tomorrow, and I'm writing this on old notebook paper, and you have no clue. Maybe it's silly of me to be writing this, it'll probably be some forgotten piece of paper. Or I'll read this to our future kids, if we ever have any, and tell them what I thought of their mom the first time I saw her: I was starstruck."

He looks over at you where you sleep, your arms wrapped around his torso where he sits up. He tries to keep still as he writes, not moving too much. He leans down, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"I can't wait to ask you to marry me tomorrow. To tell you everything I need to tell you, to ask you to be mine forever until death do us part. Mikey once learned Irish wedding vows (because of course he did), and I think it says what I can't. May you never steal, lie or cheat. But if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows. And if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life. And if you must cheat, then please cheat death, because I couldn't live a day without you."

His mind races with every memory he's shared with you. Looking around the bedroom you two share and have had so many laughs, tears and more in. The idea that he - a boy from Chicago with family issues who thinks he's an unlovable psycho - gets to marry you? Share a life with you, and maybe get to be the father of your children?

You're the one for him.

And for the rest of your lives, he doesn't know what he wants to be. But as for as long as you'd have him, he has an idea of what he wants to be.

"Yours, CB."

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 5 months

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Does the End Justify the Means?

CX-2 (Clone Assassin) x Reader

Summary- CX-2 never planned on forming a relationship, but once he did he had to protect it. Even if it meant killing hundreds to keep you away from Hemlock.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH FINALE. I feel like people forget that deep down, CX-2 is still a clone being forced to serve the Empire. Maybe I'm delusional though!!! MENTIONS OF BURNS AND TORTURE!!

Word Count- 5,253

"You know, CX-2. There was once a time where I considered scrapping you. The very cloning program that made you..." Hemlock started. "You were hard to control. My methods had little effect on you. Considering you had little to live for, well that didn't help."

CX-2 stood, arms crossed behind his back. He listened intently, staring at the grey border of the wall.

"You were too, hmm. Rebellious should I say?" He walked slow circles around CX-2, studying him. "That was until I found your little secret out." Hemlock laughed at his own wit. "Who knew a medic trainee would have an Assassin Clone falling so hard!" He seemed to think the situation was hilarious.

Silent, CX-2 contemplated killing Hemlock where he stood. It wasn't possible though, he was smarter than that. He probably had a weapon on his beloved as they spoke. Perhaps Scorch was with her now...

He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. Opting to stare back at the wall again.

"Truly, I created you better than that. The problem with you clones is your loyalty. It would typically disgust me. Though, unlucky for you, this all plays out in my favor." CX-2 swallowed hard at his words.

There were not many things that scared CX-2, but the thought of Hemlock hurting you consumed him. Striking him with a never ending fear.

"You will bring me Omega. Unless, you want an accident to happen. That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" The man asked, taunting the clone. All while fiddling with his gloved hand.

For the first time in many minutes, CX-2 spoke. "I will retrieve the girl."

"Good, I do not doubt your abilities." Hemlock stepped closer, right in The Assassins face. "Dire consequences are at stake..."

CX-2 made sure his next stop was Pabu.

CX-2 had no intentions of forming any friendships, especially not a relationship. You, however, came natural to him. In one of Hemlock's attempts to have complete control over CX-2, a burn was implemented on his waist. He remembers the day vividly, as it was the first time he'd met you.

You were only on Tantiss because of your mother. She worked for the Empire as a medic, a famous doctor of some sort. While you never had the knack for the medical field, you enjoyed helping people. It was in your blood after all.

CX-2 was taken to a special room for clones of high status. You were there by sheer accident. A mishap guided you to his side.

"Uhm, hello sir." You introduced yourself. "I'll be your medic today. What's your name?" You asked, a little nervous to be assessing a clone by yourself. He wore black armor, head still covered. You'd never seen that style before, maybe he was new?

CX-2 just stared up at you, a hard gaze. Out of fear, you started to breathe a little heavier. He could have killed you there and no one would have batted an eye.

"Sir, is something the matter?" You pressed on, trying to mask yourself with professionalism.

He continued to stare, eventually pointing at the chart In your hands.

"Of course, uh. CT-4340?"

CX-2 didn't say a word, just tilted his head. You looked at him with doe eyes. "Are you CT-4340?" you hesitated.

"My code is CX-2." He commanded out, a modulated voice appearing.

You almost jumped at the sound. "I uh, seem to have the wrong chart. I am so sorry, I should get a higher official-"

Under his helmet, CX-2 resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His shoulder dropped, annoyed. This caused his side to jolt. The pain of the burn on him was strong, but he withheld any reaction.

You, on the other hand, seemed to notice the very small twitch his waist gave out. "Where are you hurt?" You asked, the words now flowing with a motive in mind.

CX-2 instinctively started unbuckling his chest piece. You flushed slightly, ashamed you couldn't be more serious in the situation. "Do you need help?" His head rose quickly, falling after looking at you for a second. He didn't respond, just continued to take his upper armor off.

Guess not...

The second you saw his skin, you suppressed a gasp. It looked gruesome, like something had repeatedly been burning him. With a deep breath, you shoved down any lasting fear.

Getting to work, you prepared bacta and bandages.

He was still, almost too still. You'd seen plenty of procedures and medics fixing up clones. There had been wincing, complaining, and fidgeting on lesser injuries. You would have expected tears and need of an anesthetic for any other man. But he was still...

You prayed you didn't hurt him more than he already was. You knew your hands were clumsy with inexperience. If you did, he made no effort to tell you nor pull away.

From then on you saw each other more and more. While your mother made sure you got plenty of experience working on clones, you were extremely busy. Never getting a second to actually talk to CX-2. A particular encounter with a clone in the hangar would change this.

You were helping a trooper with a broken arm- Simply wrapping it to prevent further injury. You crouched down, examining the break.

CX-2 was just passing by, heading to see what his next mission was. He barely took note that a soldier under his command broke an arm. Why would he? Clones die everyday, including ones under CX-2.

He did however take note of you. He recognized you immediately. He surprised himself, why would he care about some medic? He'd never remembered the ones that had worked on him in the past.

At this, he stared at you. He took in your silhouette, something deep down told him to bask in your every feature. So, he did.

Of course you felt the beaming eyes of CX-2. It made you nervous. Was there something on your face? Did you make him mad? It distracted you.

"Ow!" The clone exclaimed in pain, face screwing. He yanked his arm up. It was an accident, you were sure. A response to the pain you caused unintentionally. CX-2 didn't seem to think this when he saw the clone raise his arm to hit you.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have time to lean back or even register what was happening. The next thing you knew was that the unidentified clone was on his back. CX-2 stood over him, a vibroblade at his neck and foot on his chest.

Falling onto your butt, you gasped and regained some sense. "CX-2...."

He slowly turned around to face you. The two of you looked at each other. His hand still expertly rested centimeters from killing the clone.

Adrenaline pumping, you spoke. "it's okay. It was an accident."

He pushed the clone back with his foot, hand raising. With the vibroblade still wielded, he stormed to you. Your heart pumped viciously, though not in fear. If he was going to really hurt you, he would have let the clone hit you.

No, your heart thumped in your ears in anticipation.

He grabbed you by the forearm with his free hand, careful of the blade. He yanked you up, off of your position on the cold floor.

You briefly noticed eyes around the hangar now in your direction. You grew nervous, only at their judgmental looks.

The quickness of it all made your head spin. You stepped out, trying not to fall. His hand still gripped your arm, he stood unmoving. He let you catch your balance, just watching you.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" A vice admiral questioned, appearing from your left.

CX-2's modulated voice said your name. It was harsh and cold, but you somehow knew it wasn't directed at you. "She is my medic."

"And? What gives you the right to attack a clone for no reason?" The admiral demanded.

CX-2 didn't like being questioned. Before you could get a single word in, CX-2 pulled you with him as he turned to leave the hangar.

"Wha-" You decided not to protest, the man was on some kind of mission. One he had made for himself the second he saw a threat to you.

He guided you two through the complex halls and levels of the lab. You were beyond lost, but he seemed to know where he was going. After a few minutes of paced walking, you stopped him.

"CX-2, where are we going? I don't want to risk getting reprimanded by the admiral." You were cautious, the smallest of complaints could get you reassigned. Tantiss was not for the faint of heart.

"You won't." He would make sure of that. He continued to walk, this time a little slower.

Finally, you found some familiarity in the halls. You noticed he was leading you to the very room you met in. The examining room for special operatives.

He pulled you into the room, making sure the door shut behind him.

"Examine me." He demanded.

You were dumbfounded, "Excuse me?"

CX-2 actually rolled his eyes this time, even when you couldn't see them. In response to your confusion, he removed his left arm's armor.

A gash that went from the top of his shoulder to before his elbow was present. "CX-2..." Your sadden voice spoke.

You didn't actually have clearance to be in that room, nor the supplies. But you worked nevertheless.

"Please, sit." You asked. He followed your instructions immediately, sitting up on the exam bed.

Just as the day you met, you retrieved bacta and med patches. You coated the wound in extra bacta, then prepared the gauze wrap.

"So," You held his arm up gently, starting to wrap it. "How did you get this? Was it your latest mission?" Your hands carefully worked, moving under his arm.

"No." Was all you heard.

"Oh, how did it happen?" You asked, trying to make conversation.

His skin twitched as a subconscious response when you smoothed over it.

"Better if you don't know." He kept his eyes on the wall ahead of him. "Sorry I asked..." You really were. He said nothing.

After a few more moments, you made sure the wrap was steady in place. "I think you're done!" You smiled at him. He dropped his arm at his side.

After, he promptly nodded, but gave little indication on what to do next.

You looked around, feeling a little awkward.

"So... What division are you from?" You tried to ease the tension.

"Project Assassin." He said, being short.

"I haven't heard of that, wha-" He inturpted you. "Tell me about you."

You blinked. You'd only seen this man a dozen times, many of those in passing. Even so, a shot of nerves flowed in you each time. There was something special about him. It was like your heart knew something your brain didn't. You weren't a child though, you knew 'love' was something of fairy tales. That there must be a perfectly rational reason you were feeling this way around him.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Though, if that were true, why did you sit up next to him and tell him everything?

From that day on, the only medic he allowed to work on him was you. The number of visits varied, depending on how evil Hemlock was feeling. CX-2 tried to hide the backstories from you as much as possible, sometimes even ignoring your questions.

Though, late at night, when he'd sneak into your room, he'd tell you the truth. At first he would listen. Anything you'd tell him, you had his full attention. Then, right before you fell asleep, he'd whisper his secrets.

He'd whisper them to the only person he ever trusted, you. Then, it was your turn to listen.

You cried for him, the pains he had went through. He was the perfect clone in your eyes. The only problem was how stubborn he was, no matter how hard Hemlock tried- you were still the only one who could persuade him.

Despite his grunts of protest, you'd just hold CX-2 some nights. Using your fingers to rake through his hair, cradling his head. You tried you best to give him the comfort he had never experienced before.

Everything was going so well. You would continue your training, he would continue his missions, and at night, you would talk and he would listen. You would spoil him with affections under the nights bask.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

The day Hemlock found out about you was the worst day of CX-2's life.

CX-2 was called in for a meeting about his next mission, something he was used to. He only received orders from the highest of officials, so seeing Hemlock or Scorch was common.

"I have... a special mission of some sort. One I cannot risk incompletion of." Hemlock began.

CX-2 stood upright, ready for instructions.

"Now, despite what we have tried to instill into you- I do not want you to listen to any other orders. I think this particular mission requires your mindset." His words didn't effect CX-2, he'd heard worse.

"One of your fellow operative has been captured. Alive. I will not accept him risking our organization."

"My orders?" CX-2 asked.

"Find and neutralize him." CX-2 nodded at his words.

"You have 48 hours to kill him." Hemlock walked up to CX-2, arms folded behind his back. "If you fail, that...medic... you are so fond of? She will reap the consequences of what you sow."

It was impossible to cover up the way CX-2 breath hitched. If he didn't have a helmet on, Hemlock would see his eyebrows scrunch in anger.

"Yes, that's right. I know about her." Hemlock said, his voice mocking. "Oh, don't fret my little assassin. She will remain unharmed, that is... unless you fail your duty..."

"I trust you will locate him and rid the republic of any information?" Hemlock taunted.

"Yes sir."

How? How did Hemlock find out about you? He was so careful... He immediately headed to your quarters. Damned everyone else, he pushed through crowds and odd stares.

He banged on the door, fist closed. If you hadn't opened in the next 10 seconds, he'd shoot the door down.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You 'tsked.'

"Oh, CX-2." You breathed out once you opened the door. Unsure if he was there for pleasantries or business.

He shoved his way past you, pressing the button to close the door shut.

"Wha-" He stormed around your rooms, it was quick considering there were only two. A bedroom and bathroom.

He held his blaster up as he checked every crevice of the room. His eyes glanced back at you quickly to make sure you were still there and alive.

"CX-2." You raised your voice. His head shot your way. "What's happened? You're scaring me..."

He paced up to you, removing his helmet as he walked. "He knows about us." Was all he managed out, throwing his helmet to the floor in favor of grabbing your cheeks gently.

Your face dropped, heart pounding in your ears. "How? I don't understand!" You started to breathe heavily.

"I just had to make sure you were safe." His gloved hands felt cool on your hot skin.

Your mind wandered, what would they do?

"I have to leave now." He said, dropping his hands. "No, wait. You can't just drop that bomb and leave!" You had so many questions, and you didn't want to be left alone freighted.

"I do not have time, if I don't complete my mission he will kill you." Your blood ran cold. "I am so sorry I brought you into this. I should have never stepped between you and that clone." He readied himself to exit the room, turning and putting his helmet back on.

"CX-2!" His shoulders dropped, he stood silent. You walked around to face him.

He let you reach your hands up and lift his helmet off. "I'm not upset at you. I only want more time..."

"I can't."

"I know." At your last words, you pulled him down by the collar of his blacks. Now level, you kiss him. Scared it would be your last.

The few seconds your lips touched felt like an eternity. All the time you needed with him...

Eventually, he pulled away. "I-"

"I know... please be safe..." You asked only one thing of him.

He nodded, placing his helmet back on snug. He then walked out your door, your thoughts consumed with wishes of his safety.

CX-2 would fulfill his mission, killing the compromised Operative. Though, that was only the first time he'd have to leave your grasp to keep you alive...

CX-2 reminded himself why he was currently headed to Pabu. 'Dire consequences are at stake' echoed in his mind.

He would capture Omega. He had no care for the innocent people he might have to kill. In his eyes, all of his actions were justified in the name of your well-being.

He never told you of his endeavors, now being sent on more gruesome missions than ever. He knew you'd be disappointed in him, but he also knew he had to always protect you. No matter the cost.

While expertly leading a fleet of soldiers, the only thing that let CX-2 think straight was you. He filled his mind with memories of your laughter. Of the times you begged him to choose a real name, even when he protested. When you first touched, when you first kissed.

He worried for you until the second he had Omega tied up on his ship.

Even after, he was anticipating his reunion with you. He had the girl, he had what Hemlock wanted. He could see you again.

And he did... Hemlock was consumed with his experiments and testing on Omega. So much he that didn't bother CX-2 for a few days. Oh, it was bliss.

The time you shared reminded you of before anyone knew you were together. You both still had your duties as clone and medic, but spent any free time with each other.

You laid in your bed, a glance at the clock scolded you for being up so late. You paid little mind to it, just enjoying the feeling of CX-2's arms around you.

With your head now buried in his chest, you let your hands wander. Slipping under the top portion of his blacks. He used to shiver reluctantly when you felt his skin, now it seemed like second nature.

You loved tracing his scars, the texture consuming you. While they were painful memories, they were treated with love and tenderness. He looked at his scars and thought of you, how you took care of him so nicely and delicately. Not Hemlock.

A light flickered from his panel brace. The one that rested on your nightstand. It lit up the room, and CX-2 immediately reached for it. he pulled away from you, but was careful to keep a connection with his leg still feeling you.

"I have to go." He said, standing to put his arm and chest armor back on.

While he was always quick and determined when hearing from Hemlock or Scorch, he was frantic here.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing, do not stress. I love you." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and an affectionate rub of your thigh before putting his helmet on and leaving.

You sighed and leaned back when the door closed again. This was slowly becoming the new normal for you. You still savored every spare second you had together...

Just as you rolled over to fall asleep, the door opened. "Did you forg-" You jumped up, almost hitting your head on the baseboard of the bed. It was Scorch.

"Come with me. Now." He grabbed your arm and pulled you rough out of bed.

"Excu-"

"You are under arrest until further assessment." He forcefully put you in handcuffs.

You tried to resist, but put up no real fight in comparison to the trained clone. He grew tired of you and stunned you with his blaster.

You fell unconscious.

"You activated me?" CX-2 asked over Comms, like he would in any other situation.

"It seems we have another problem with our favorite girl." Hemlock said.

Omega...

"You see, she has managed to escape with the other children. Did I mention she also freed the zillo beast?"

CX-2 listened intently, not moving a muscle.

"You have been the only operative capable of capturing Omega thus far. I will see that you will find her again. Before she finds some way to leave the planet." CX-2 could hear the frustration in Hemlocks voice. It made him flicker a smile.

"Affirmative."

"Oh, and as a little motivater, I think it would serve you well to know your medic is currently held up in a cell." Hemlock went radio silent, leaving CX-2 to head to the exposed section of the base. The hole the Zillo beast left, and the way Force 99 was headed.

Your head throbbed, vision a little blurry. Raising your head from the cold of the floor, you noticed you were in a cell.

The room spun around before you sat up. Your whole body ached. Not to mention the confusion you were feeling.

Looking around, you saw other prisoners lining the walls. You knew exactly where you were. The hall where all the traitors and experimental clones were kept.

Were they going to experiment on you too? Was CX-2 okay? Did something happen to him that made Hemlock finally get you?

The building shook with a loud boom, it did nothing to help your nerves. It sounded like some kind of cannon went off.

"You okay?" A clone asked in the cell across from you.

"I don't know..."

With the effort and passion of a man whose entire reason for living was at risk, CX-2 and the other Clone Assasins were able to capture the rouge clones.

With his blaster barred in his hands, CX-2 guarded the three prisoners. He was occupied with the thought of what The Empire was doing to you.

You must have been so scared in a cell... He knew you didn't like small spaces. With his new fury, he closed his fist, doing yet another round of the platform they were on.

Boredom was unable to strike you, anxieties kept you busy. Your mind ran wild with the possibilities of CX-2. For a moment you questioned if he had just abandoned you as a whole, but quickly shunned yourself for bringing it up.

CX-2 loved you, and wouldn't dare leave you to rot.

"Look!" A clone yelled out, just as you saw a small girl and a storm trooper running by.

What were they doing?

They crept around the corner, swiftly blasting and taking out 2 storm troopers in the process. The girl got to work on the main computer that operated the cells.

"Hey kid, whats going on?" Someone asked.

"We're breaking you out."

Seconds later, your cell door opened. You slowly walked out, unsure what to do. What would CX-2 do in a situation like this? He'd probably tell you to keep your head down and blend in. Stay out of trouble, 'for his sake.'

You did just that, creeping out of the cell and hiding within the groups of clones.

Apparently, the 'storm trooper' was a clone, so was the girl. They were on a mission to free their three brothers, recruiting clones as they did so.

Was this the big mission CX-2 was called to? To capture the people they were here to rescue?

"We've checked all the cells, they aren't here."

You knew where they probably were... The training room. The very room that tortured and left your beloved marked. You didn't dare say a word. As much as you hated Hemlock and his 'methods,' worse things would happen if CX-2 failed his mission...

"Well... they could be in the training room." Damn, another clone had though the same as you.

They decided to head there, a few turning for an easier escape.

What should you do? Warn CX-2? You weren't raised as a soldier, you had no training. No fighting experience. You knew how to save and help, not attack and kill.

A small hand was rested on your arm, the girl from earlier. "Hi, I'm Omega."

You looked down to her. "I know it's kind of scary, but we have to fight for what's right.." If only she knew your true intentions...

"You're right... i'll come with you..." All you wanted was to find CX-2.

So, you did. Following them to the training room, they planned an attack from the lower circle.. You, however, had a new idea. To come in through the main balcony. The one that led directly to Force 99.

You managed to sneak away and climb the steps that brought you to the main doors.

"Hey, you! Are you supposed to be here?" A trooper stopped you.

"Yes sir," You gave him your chain code, "I am a medic. Hemlock has requested my services in the Training room." You lied, faking a confidence you never had.

"I never heard about Hemlock ever needing a medic in the training room..."

"Well if you want to ask him, while the Zillo beast is one the loose, he has new prisoners, and while his top experiment is lost- Be my guest. I just don't think he'd be very happy with you questioning his methods." You crossed your arms behind your back, something you'd seen CX-2 do many times.

"Fine." He moved out of your way, letting you head to your destination.

You walked to the door, ready to put your mother's clearance codes in. With a steam they opened, leaving you to witness a terrible sight.

The 3 captured clones were out, fighting. You got there in time to see the big clone burst out of the glass, tackling a special operative.

With the sound of the door, the man with a bandana looked your way. Along with CX-2, who rose swiftly upon seeing you. You distracted him long enough for the clone without a hand to blast him in his side.

You gasped as you watched CX-2 fall in your direction.

With an electrospear in his hand, the bandana man stepped to him. He only managed to zap him once before you ran in.

"No!" Your scream pierced out, you threw yourself onto CX-2. Using your body to cover his.

You didn't care if you died then and there, at least you'd die in CX-2's arms. You'd at least die together...

"No, don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for a shock that never came. You felt a weak hand raise from under you to grip your clothes.

Tears streamed down your face violently. Pattering on CX-2's armor.

"You do realize the crimes he has committed..." The man panted out, he was also wounded.

"Please, it was for me... It was all for me..." You sobbed out. "Hemlock threatened my life..." You buried your head in his neck, holding him tightly.

"Hunter, no. We should kill them both now." The handless man spoke.

The man you assumed to be Hunter didn't have time to respond.

"I swear we wont follow you... Hemlock is probably on his way to his private ship... I swear..." Your words were muffled but they understood well enough.

"We are wasting time, lets go." Hunter commanded, the two of them left.

You gave out a whimper, "CX-2... Please... Stay with me." You pried his helmet off. He was in a rough state.

His eyes struggled to focus on one thing, but he still tried to find your face. "It'll be okay, just let me grab a med pack." You went to pull away, but he gripped you tighter.

"Let me.. hold," He coughed, "You.."

"You are not going to die on me. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" You tried to joke. He shook his head, 'no.'

"Then let me do my job, and help you." He still held you tightly. "Please... you deserve to live..." He let you go.

It was only half a minute, you grabbed a medics kit that was nearby and began patching him up.

Making quick work of taking his armor and blacks off. It reminded you of the first time you'd done this to him. A very similar wound on his waist.

You forced him a pill, and squeezed out as much bacta as you could from its packet.

"Can you roll over for me, baby?" You asked, helping him get on his side.

He complied as much as he could, and you were able to patch up his other side.

"Okay, this will hold you over. I know the closest procedure room, a droid can give you a proper examination." You helped him stand, an arm under his own to keep his balance.

"You'll be okay, we'll be okay..." You whispered praises and words of affirmation to him. The walk was extremely painful for him, you could tell he was hiding most of it from you.

Lucky for both of you, a droid was able to identify where the blast was and give him a proper cleaning of the wound.

He was still woozy, but forced himself to stand. "We have to go. Tarkin is on his way.." CX-2 strained out. He was stubborn and refused any medication that would cloud his mind.

"W-where? Your ship?" You were scared, not just for CX-2, but your futures as well.

He pressed a few buttons on his panel brace as you picked up his helmet.

"Turn left." He instructed you all the way to his ship, even with the pain starting to blur his vision.

The two of you somehow managed to make it to his ship, you opened the door with his panel brace and sat him in the co-pilot's seat.

You clicked away, starting the ship up. Though, you did need some guidance from him.

You had never flown a ship before, but knew you had to take the risk to save CX-2. It was wobbly, but you raised the ship and let Auto-Pilot blast you into hyperspace. It had a set of coordinates in, ones you didn't know the location of.

A groan made you turn to your lovers direction, you were at his side immediately. Crouching down you spoke, "Hey, its okay... We're far away. You can take the pain medication, its just us two."

He peaked open an eye to look at you, his face barred disappointment in himself. Almost like he was a lesser man if he took the meds.

"Take them. If not for yourself, for me." You pulled them from your pocket. He did take them, minutes later he felt the relief.

You took another look at his wound, it was stable for now. You figured that he would need a cleaning and new bandages in a few hours. Hopefully his medkit was fully equipped on his ship. If it was, you'd be able to last many days without needing to land.

You stood, pulling his head to your breast. "Shhh, rest now. We are both safe."

He truly did feel safe in your arms, like he didn't have to always be on guard. A huge change from his normal. One he'd hoped he could live out with you for the rest of his life...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I got a little carried away with this one... I just had to get this idea written down!!!

Tags-(lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

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choism · 1 year

Text

A Flashy Plan | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Crew!gn!Reader

Genre: Smut, Crack

Summary: A tough day and a tired crew calls for correction in the captain's quarters

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: sub!buggy, gn!reader, but you can imagine reader with a strap or a dick, unprotected sex (bad !), overstimulation, improper use of the chop chop fruit, buggy's head is elsewhere, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, buggy is a babygirl honestly, and a brat too

A/N: I said I would write it and I did! Look at me keeping promises for once lmao. I hope you all enjoy and dont forget to reblog with your thoughts <3

Today had been a rough day for the Buggy Pirates. There were two attacks, both just outside bordering islands, which meant they couldn’t stop for supplies for quite a while. Stopping meant bringing the attacking pirates near the island, which would cause panic, which would cause bounty hunters and marines to appear at the mere sight of their flag. No, they had to flee, and quickly.

Now, afloat the east blue with no real course yet, the crew was in sore spirits, especially their Captain. Buggy had been extra mopey– extra mean to everyone, and that included you. You and the captain had a…special relationship. Sleep together occasionally, cuddle occasionally, but that was the extent of it. It was just two pirates trying to find sense in this barren sea, and you two happened to end up naturally floating together, pun intended.

You were fed up. All of the crew had suffered losses today. They were starved, thirsty, and just wanted to rest but that was impossible when aboard the ship of the man to be King of the Pirates. Buggy was just making everything worse by poking the bear.

“You all suck! Not a very flashy move to flee an island all because of some lowly pirates. We could've done better.” He spits at nobody in particular, but he looks at you briefly and it sets something off inside of you. The crew disperses and you immediately make your way to the clown.

Buggy is back in his captain’s quarters, bent over the desk and presumably overlooking something, while mumbling to himself. You walk in and quietly close the door behind you, tip-toeing behind him and whispering in his ear, “So what wasn’t flashy about avoiding us getting caught by marines, hm?” You smirk and feel him stiffen at the desk.

“I- I didn’t mean you y/n! You were fine I just think that–”

You don’t let him finish, Spinning him around and pinning him to the desk, leaning fully into his space now,

“Think what? That we are no better than lowly pirates? You know better than to insult your crew during such a hard time, Bugsy.” The nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly, sending a shiver down Buggy’s spine. Outside, he’s the captain, but in his attempt to escape the harsh reality of a Captain’s burdens, he submits in the bedroom.

You, on the other hand? You like control, dominance. You like to feel like you have a grip on whatever flimsy string life is, and this is how you take that initiative. It’s a great dynamic and there have been no complaints from Buggy’s end. Well…Unless we are talking about his rear end…

“Fuck y/n wait, I- I’m sorry okay let’s just talk this out, oh!” You press your knee into his crotch, he’s already half hard from being talked down to of course. Buggy whimpers and trembles beneath your touch, anticipating what you’ll do next. You reach your hand up to hold his jaw and place light pecks at his neck, lowering your hand to grip his neck lightly.

“Head on the table sweetheart.” You smirk and step back, starting to unbuckle your belt.

“Why what are you going to do?” Buggy takes off his hat and his headscarf, letting his long blue locks fall around his shoulders in heavy waves. You would never admit it to him, but you find Buggy so gorgeous, if he offered up anything further than some situationship at sea, you’d probably take him up on it. You stare into his green eyes, giving him an answer without even saying anything. Buggy makes room on the desk and pops his head off, gently landing on the wood.

“Well? Take off your clothes too, slut.” The degrading name causes Buggy’s cock to jump in his pants, now fully hard from the unbelievable sexual build up. He makes quick work of his own clothes, now fully nude in front of his crew mate. You’ve gotten your own clothes off as well, having grabbed the spare lube Buggy keeps in his desk and slicking up your own cock. “Turn around for me baby.” You command him and he swiftly complies.

His plump ass is fully on display, his flush cock hanging heavy between his legs and leaking precum like a faucet. You lube up your fingers, warming it up and spreading it over his hole, making sure to get him ready for your fingers.

“Mm please, please do it already.” His head begs, looking at the sight with his eyes heavy, lips pouted and whimpering.

“You don’t get a say in this, you get to watch and look pretty.” You grip his jaw and he looks up at you, nodding. Now fully bent over the desk, some things falling over, you enter a single finger, crooking and prodding at him to stretch him properly for your cock later. Buggy lets out loud groans next to you, clearly enjoying the sensation. You add a second, and then a third finger, the lube slick sounds bouncing off the thin walls of his quarters, the crew is probably hearing everything.

You fuck into him deeply, hitting his prostate over and over, his cock leaking all over important documents on his desk as he ruts into it, chasing pleasure.

“‘M cum…gon’ cum…” He lazily says, and you halt all of your movements. “Fuck why please nng ah!” You swiftly enter him, filling him up with your cock and mercilessly fucking into his wet hole. Almost immediately, he comes all over the desk and onto the floor, but you don’t stop thrusting. Buggy lets out strings of ‘ ah ah ah’ with each thrust.

“What? Can’t handle me being a little rough? How do you expect to handle those ‘lowly pirates’ if you can’t even take a cock properly without cumming instantly?” He’s a whimpering mess, drooling and looking at his own body being fucked. Buggy can’t even form words, the overstimulation causing him to get hard again quickly.

“N…” Buggy starts to say but you can’t hear him. You grab his hair and lift up his head, forcing him to be face to face with you as you pound into him,

“Spit it out.”

Buggy laughs half-heartedly, “Not flashy enough.”

You reattach his head and flip him over on the desk so his legs are in the air and his cock is flush against his stomach. You enter him again, fucking him even harder than before. “Is this flashy enough for you, clown? Wanna be fucked dumb like the cockslut you are?” You feel your own orgasm approaching quickly, you wrap a hand around Buggy’s pathetically leaking cock, fisting it so you can finish at the same time.

Soon after, you both finish, Buggy making a mess of his own stomach, some of it even reaching his face. You pull out of him slowly.

“How’s that for a flashy plan, captain?”

#tw clowns #tw clown #buggy x reader #buggy smut #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy #buggy opla #buggy one piece #one piece x reader #one piece smut #opla x reader #opla smut

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stardustizuku · 7 months

Text

I’ve recently been thinking on why there’s people who interpret Kuro in such a drastically different way.

And something I notice is that you can easily tell how someone experiences the series, based on what they think of the GWA.

The way you interpret the Green Witch Arc is indicative of of how you have been interpreting the story so far, and how you’ll interpret it going forward

Generally, there’s two interpretations:

1.- The Reaction Ciel had to the mustard gas, are his true feelings coming afloat

2.- The Reaction Ciel had to the mustard gas, isn’t how he feels.

The first interpretation (and I’m really not trying to be mean about it this time) comes from a very, uhm, shall I call it Teenage-Like? mindset of how pain and trauma works.

I call it Teenage-Like, because I’ve seen it in mostly literature aimed at teenagers, be it fanfics or YA. It comes from an inability for teenagers to actually voice how they feel towards their parents. A helpless feeling of being ignored.

I don’t wanna point fingers but this is the basis of a lot of Self Harm tendencies (physical, emotional, psychological, or others like EDs or digital self harm) come from. A need for people to notice you are in pain. But because you feel like you cannot voice it yourself (or don’t deserve it, it can vary) you start to lash out. Put yourself in higher risks, to have someone find out there is something wrong with you.

So the moment the main character finally breaks down, or has a moment of weakness, it’s interpreted as someone finally being truthful.

This is how Ciel’s reaction is interpreted by the first half.

The mustard gas is simply a trigger of pain, that causes all of Ciel to unravel. He’s in pain right now, cause he’s always in pain. He’s avoidant to Sebastian, cause he’s always been scared of him. He doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t trust adults. Finny is the only one who actually cares.

This makes the fact that Sebastian ,essentially, slapped him to get him to react, come off as cruel.

The boy is finally being honest, and you just tell him he’s being childish? Horrible.

Obviously, that’s not my interpretation.

Okay so, what happens once you’re not a teenager? Once you don’t have an adult figure to take care of you? What happens once you start avoiding telling your parents the pain you’re in, not because you think they won’t care, but because they’ll care too much and get worried and you don’t want them to get worried?

You start to realize pain is not the end of the world.

While, when being a teenager, getting sick meant someone gets to take care of you and maybe notice you aren’t okay, as an adult getting sick potentially means - not going to work. Which means your won’t have money to buy food, which means you’ll probably go hungry.

So getting sick becomes less of a way to get away from the responsibilities you have, and more of a burden.

That’s why you’ll see, in media aimed at adults,mental breakdown less depicted as an opportunity to be honest, and more of a sickness that needs to be healed.

You can have a more honest and truthful conversation, while you are sound of mind. There’s no power dynamic between friends, like it would with adult figures and children. So this song and dance, isn’t necessary.

You don’t have to be sick to be understood. And your friends will rather try to help you, than understand you when you’re suffering. That’s the nature of adult relationships.

This is more or less the framing that comes from Ciel’s breakdown (in the second interpretation).

The Mustard Gas isn’t showing Ciel’s true nature - it’s showing Ciel at his most vulnerable. This means, not in his sound mind.

Saying things he normally wouldn’t, hurting people he normally would hold close, and clinging to people he generally would never try to get close to.

Simply put, it isn’t just “a bit of pain to make him unravel” but a “Ciel is getting psychologically tortured by a weapon used for chemical warfare”.

He’s past being honest. He’s having such a severe reaction, that he cannot function. He’s being tortured and broken, to the point he is no longer himself.

He isn’t being “truthful” he’s scared.

And fear can make you do things that, in your sound mind, you would never do.

The point is that, Ciel isn’t saying what he truly feels or being “honest”. It’s him scared out of his mind, saying everything and anything to make the fear stop.

And the biggest proof is how he treats Sebastian.

The fact that Ciel asks Sebastian to “go away” or “not come near” is perhaps the most glaring reason as to how badly this Gas messed with him.

I’ve said this before but to Ciel, Sebastian is a lifeline. He’s the only tool he has for his revenge. The thing that, even after he lost r!Ciel, he was willing to sacrifice it all to achieve.

And at this point in time, Sebastian is also the only emotional anchor Ciel has.

As far back as the second episode, Ciel has asked Sebastian to stay. Even when he’s having flashbacks, even when he’s having an episode. In fact, Sebastian leaving him is a great source of anxiety - since as seen in BoC in the Asthma Scene, without him Ciel feels powerless enough to die.

He feels more protected with him, because he KNOWS Sebastian will protect him and that Sebastian will follow his orders.

Again going with the analogy of a dog - He feels more comfortable having the chained beast by his bed, simply bcs others are trying to hurt him and the beast won’t eat him right now.

So him asking Sebastian to go away, is throwing away his biggest safety net for a surrogate for r!Ciel, just means he’s reverting to the mentality he had during the cult.

If Sebastian is constantly telling him “it’s okay, they can’t hurt you anymore, you’re outside the cage, you can do what you WANT”

Ciel clinging to Finny is him going “no, im staying in the cage bcs at least the cage is familiar”

And no matter what the first camp tells you, staying in the cage, trapped inside your pain ISNT the healthy option.

(We could argue Ciel’s need for revenge rather than healing is also unhealthy, but no one in the second camp would even call Ciel anything other than a villain in someone else’s story)

So, Sebastian slapping him and going “no, that’s not what you want”, isn’t as cruel as it would be in the first interpretation. Because as we see, he’s right. That’s not what Ciel wants. And it’s proved by the next scene where Sebastian talks to Ciel about what he truly wants.

Rather than Sebastian telling Ciel to “get over it”, it’s closest to a “snap out of it, something’s wrong”

This is further proved by the fact that, Sebastian first instinct isn’t to scare him. He does back away, he does try to wait and gently coax him. But Ciel literally cannot reason with him.

That small but significant difference in interpretation has wildly different outcomes in how you perceive both, the characters and the story.

If you pick the first, you’re reading Sebastian as an enemy. Someone who does not respect Ciel. You see his attempt to eat Ciel’s soul as a breach of trust, and proof that he doesn’t care for him.

But if you pick the second option, you see Sebastian as an ally. Someone who’s running out of time and ways to save Ciel. His actions, while crass, ultimately help Ciel. What he was trying to do, was help.

Yana, very clearly, wanted the second interpretation. However, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you it’s the only interpretation. People are free to pick and chose how they read the text, irrelevant of how little of the actual text they’re reading.

But I will say, picking the first is symbolic of a less mature way of thinking. Common on those who like to infantilize trauma and trauma responses. It’s the easy, safe and comforting way of reading the text. As I said, it’s common in those who want their pain to be acknowledged.

That reading of Kuro is one that speak to me, that you’re not really ready to confront pain. And someone with that mentality, is not someone who’s reading of the text I find particularly interesting. Sure, you can share it, I’ll never stop you, but know you’re speaking to me in an entirely different language. You’re interpreting the text so differently, that I don’t think it’s even the same text anymore.

Again, you’re essentially writing analysis on fanfiction. And I’m not all too interested in dissecting your own trauma sloppily painted over British Aesthetic.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebaciel #this is a bit less refined than both the Twitter thread i wrote and other essays #but I had to share my thoughts on this

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frvnkcastles · 2 months

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A MAN WITH A BLACK HEART OF GOLD ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When there’s a death in the neighborhood, you call Frank for comfort and protection.

Warnings: Mentions of death, anxiety, fluff mostly!

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s note: Taking a quick break from requests for this little thing I whipped up after experiencing this very thing myself. A dead body was found in my neighborhood and it freaked me out, but thankfully it was updated on the news that a crime wasn’t involved. Still, I wouldn’t mind if I had Frank next to me tonight!

The last thing you expected coming home from getting the groceries for next week was a bunch of police cars and an ambulance on your street. The sight instantly made you nervous, your grip on the bag of food tightening as you walked through the crowd to get to your door. The police were swarmed by the building across the street, giving you access to your own home, but before you made your way inside, your neighbor caught your eye.

”What’s going on?” you queried with both curiosity and dread. You knew there was plenty of crime in the city — if not through reading the news, then through knowing Frank. You had befriended the Punisher himself a few weeks back, and he had already taught you a lot about staying safe and protected, but even with everything he had shared with you, you felt uneasy that something had happened so close to your doorstep. You were used to hearing about what went down at night from him, but right now, it was barely evening and whatever had happened, it was right across the street from you.

”Apparently they found a dead body in one of the apartments”, your neighbor whispered, and with shock punching you in the gut, you swallowed. ”They won’t say what happened, though. Maybe it was natural causes”, she continued, and weakly, you nodded. Maybe she was right. But you had heard enough from Frank to know that there was some seriously fucked up stuff happening in your city, and it made you sick to think something like that had happened in your neighborhood.

You headed inside, working completely on autopilot as you got in your apartment and started unloading the groceries. You enjoyed every second you spent with Frank, in fact, you had gotten quite attached to him, but right now, you regretted ever listening to his haunting tales of criminals and crooks. All it did was make you overthink, your brain going in evil loops as you wondered if there was a murderer on the loose — maybe a serial killer, even? Maybe he was targeting people in your area. Maybe you were next.

You spent the evening refreshing the website of the local news, waiting for something to pop up. When it finally did, all the article said was that a corpse had been discovered and the police was still investigating whether or not it had been a crime. You gnawed on your nails anxiously. How hard could it be to tell if someone had murdered them? Even you knew there would have to be signs of a break-in or a struggle or something. Or maybe you had just watched too much TV.

Either way, it was driving you mad. And you knew what could make you feel better — calling Frank. You just didn’t know if you were in the stage of your relationship where it would be okay to do. Your encounters tended to be initiated by him, as he would either show up on your doorstep or behind your window unannounced, or you’d run into him at a coffee shop or a diner in a way that you suspected wasn’t random. You knew he was a busy man, and the last thing you wanted was to scare him off by being clingy, or worst case scenario, to endanger his life by calling him at the wrong time.

But it was Frank. Frank, who was always so good to you, Frank, who was way more talented at giving support and comfort than he gave himself credit for, Frank, who never judged or laughed at you if it wasn’t meant to be laughed at. God, it was no wonder you were already falling for him, when he was such a perfect gentleman every time you saw him.

A little embarrassed but hopeful that he’d be understanding, you decided to call him. You paced back and forth in your apartment while the phone rang, your nail between your teeth and your feet shuffling anxiously. It felt kind of awkward, too trivial to actually be worth Frank’s time, but the fear of what had happened beat the shame in you. You were growing more terrified by the minute, and you knew it was something only he could alleviate.

”Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Frank’s voice hit you through the phone, and gulping at the thickness of his voice, you shook yourself out of the daze you had fallen into while waiting for him to pick up.

”Hi, Frank. This is kinda embarrassing, but, uh… if you have the time—I understand if you don’t, would you maybe mind visiting? And… maybe even spending the night? The police found a dead body across the street and I’m just a little freaked out”, you rambled, your nerves getting the best of you, but Frank listened patiently instead of interrupting you.

For a beat, he was silent, and it was enough time for you to start wondering if you had made a mistake calling him. But finally, he spoke up. ”Yeah, darlin’, I’ll be there. Hang on f’me, yeah?” he answered, and with a weight rolling off of your chest, you sighed.

”Thank you, Frank.” You hung up the phone and threw yourself onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as you groaned. This was very much not what you had expected from your night, but maybe, it was a blessing in disguise. After all, you were officially signed up for some more time in Frank’s company, and the mere thought got you to smile to yourself. He had stolen your heart so effortlessly, it was ridiculous.

You didn’t know when to expect him, as you obviously couldn’t make him drop everything just for you, but when it started to get dark, you grew anxious again. He was taking his sweet time and being alone in the apartment made you uncomfortable, with every sound from outside your little bubble making you alert.

Finally, though, there was a knock on your door, and you jumped with your hand on your chest. You tiptoed to the front door and stole a glimpse through the peephole just to be safe, feeling calmer when you saw Frank standing there with his head hung low and his hands folded in front of him. You opened the door, and despite the worry inside your soul, the sight of him brought a smile on your face. He looked too good to be true, his sleeves rolled up and his dark hair covered in rain droplets.

”Sorry it took me a while. I made a pitstop”, he announced, gesturing at the bag in his hands. He walked inside, gently kicking the door shut behind him, and leaning down to briefly kiss your cheek before making his way to the kitchen. The casual gesture made your face hot and your heart skip a beat, but you followed him to the kitchen without commenting on it.

”What’s all this?” you asked as he began taking things out of the bag — chips, food containers, a bottle of beer for him and your favorite soda for you.

”Figured you ain’t gonna be able to sleep, anyway. We might as well make a night out of it. Watch a movie or somethin’, whatever you want”, he shrugged like it was the most normal thing ever for him to show up with everything thought of. You felt giddy, unable to believe he would do all this for you, and you did the only thing you could think of and stepped in to hug him.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, looking down at your face, painted with all kinds of heavy emotions. ”You must have been real scared, huh?” he muttered, and shyly, you nodded. ”It’s aight. ’M here now and I’mma make sure you’re safe”, Frank reassured you, just his words enough to console you. All it took was his presence to make you feel protected, and you appreciated it deeply.

”If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t heard of anythin’ goin’ down over here and I’m always on top of these things. I’m sure it was just a one-time thing”, he went on, and nodding, you pulled back from him and grabbed the soda can from the counter.

”I hope so. I kind of just wanna think about something else, so… how about that movie?” you suggested, drawing a sip from your drink.

Frank agreed quickly, and you two huddled up on your couch with the food and the snacks. Time passed in a blink of an eye, with midnight rolling around by the time you were finished with the first movie, but as Frank had suspected, you weren’t exactly eager to go to sleep. Sleeping made you vulnerable, and it scared you — so, you watched another movie.

You ended up migrating from your end of the couch to Frank’s arms. Totally platonic, you told yourself. He was sweet with you, surprisingly affectionate too, but you weren’t sure he felt the same way that you did. At least, you didn’t think he was ready to. He hadn’t told you everything, but you had read the news enough to know what he had gone through and what he had lost, so you doubted he was looking for a relationship. It stung, you had to admit that much, but you found a small consolation in the fact that it wasn’t anything personal.

A yawn slipped from you, and Frank noticed, perceptive as always. ”You should get some rest, sweetheart”, he pointed out, and begrudgingly, you supposed he was right.

”I don’t mean to push but… will you stay in the bed with me?” you asked carefully, hoping you weren’t crossing a boundary, but he didn’t seem to have any hesitation regarding the matter.

”Sure thing.”

With that, he helped you up from the couch, and you went ahead with your nightly routine of washing your face, brushing your teeth and changing into your PJs. When you stepped into the bedroom, Frank was already lying on your bed, his arms behind his head as he waited for you. Seeing him like that, it made your chest tighten and your stomach do a backflip. You had imagined this exact situation countless times, though you suspected your daydreams ended very differently than what reality had in store for you.

You settled under the covers, sighing deeply as you rubbed your tired eyes and felt the stress of the day weigh you down. Frank observed you closely, a small smile on his lips, and it made you chuckle nervously.

”What?” you questioned, earning a shrug from him.

”You just look real pretty, ’s all”, he revealed, and with your eyes widening, you stared at him, trying to find any hint of joke on his face. There was none.

”Thanks, Frankie”, you replied sheepishly, tucking your hair behind your ear. ”And thanks for the food and for staying with me. I really appreciate it”, you added, and with a soft nod, he dropped his hands to his lap and shifted deeper into the mattress.

”I know it ain’t a permanent solution, but I want ya to know I’mma keep an eye on this place. I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to you”, he promised, and surprised, you lifted yourself up to rest on your elbow, your gaze meeting his.

”You’d do that?” you spoke in disbelief, and with a completely serious look, he nodded once again.

”Course, I would, sweetheart. I never wanna see you in harm’s way. I know this is still pretty new, but I, uh, I like you”, he confessed, his voice almost nervous. You couldn’t imagine him ever being nervous, but as you both sat in his admission, the air growing hot between you, that was exactly how he felt.

Feeling impulsive, you closed the space between you and kissed him. He melted into it immediately, his big hand reaching up to cradle your face, his lips moving against yours in a way that was thrilling and enchanting. He took your breath away, kissing you with passion but sweetness, and it was even better than you had imagined.

Breathless, you broke the kiss, and he dropped his forehead to yours. ”I like you, too”, you returned the favor, and breaking into a grin, Frank kissed you again, shorter this time but equally delicious.

In hindsight, you were beyond glad you had called him, and he felt the same way. And for you, he was going to get to the bottom of what had happened.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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stitcherofchaos · 2 months

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Kidnap Fam vs Earendil and Elwing controversy: Regarding the twins

Maybe I’m too practical-minded, but I see a lot of people either supporting or exaggerating kidnap fam, hating it with all their being, or ignoring the whole ‘love grew between them’ to translate into ‘emotional manipulation, hatred, resentment… etc (being anti-canon)’. I’ll respect opinions, frankly, I really could care less about them, but it does get irritating when people throw canon away for the drama (I certainly get annoyed when extreme pro-kidnap fams fans make it all sunshine and rainbows as if it wasn’t a difficult time or situation).

By the way, I can and will say that the twins can feel emotions, they are allowed to do that. Resentment and love can exist at the same time (for only a period of time) but one or the other must fade in order for the other the linger. One has to be consumed in order for the other to burn.

But just a thought, Elrond and Elros could love all of their parents equally, no more, no less than the others. One became a healer and the other, a king, I think they came to understand their foster father(s) and their bio-parents’ decisions.

(Ay maybe I just suck at emotions and all this feelings stuff and have no idea what I’m tolkien about)

And I’m not trying to call out or bash anyone!

I saw (and wanted to share) the quote,

“if your anger burns the furnace in your soul your whole life, you will be forever cold in the grave.”(I’m paraphrasing, I can’t remember the exact quote)

I cannot imagine Elrond or Elros being resentful to the point were they are vicious or unforgiving, whether it was towards Elwing, Eärendil, Maglor, or Maedhros (I really don’t think he was involved too much but if you swing that way).

I don’t want Elros to be cold in his grave, and I certainly don’t want Elrond's fëa to be burning for the rest of his immortal life.

Then I also had the thought, 'if the Fëanorians had never committed the third, worst, kinslaying, then Elwing would have never flown the Silmaril to her husband and they would have never gotten the help of the Valar.'

I personally headcanon that it was Eru’s work at hand to have Maglor raise Elrond and Elros. Think about it, what if they were spoiled in an alternate universe? What if something worse had happened to the twins? What if? What if?

What if they didn't become who they were meant to be if it wasn't for who they were raised by?

By the way, I read LOTR, I know Elrond refers to Eärendil publicly as his father and he makes no mention of Maglor. I analyzed this in three ways. 1.) Elrond must keep (the memory of) Maglor closed off, locked in his heart rather than talking about him more. 2.) It would've caused drama in his realm and in the counsel. 3.) Elrond really doesn't care, his father is his father, that's it. Zip. Maglor raised him, but Maglor is gone now. In a way, Eärendil is more present than Maglor in Elrond's life by the third age. Elrond can physically see the star, but he can't see Maglor.

I see it in the third way mostly. Eärendil is Elrond father, biologically, so why would he do this "My 'real' father" BS? It just seems like a waste of time. Tolkien probably didn't want to confuse anyone since the Silmarillion couldn't be published with LOTR.

Remind me of that quote from Yondu, "He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy." But I really didn't want to refer to that quote considering Peter and Yondu's relationship is not the best example to compare this cluster of daddy issues to. Nevertheless, there is a point to be made in that statement. There is a difference between relation in regard to Nature vs Nurture, and the effects of it.

I guess the whole point of this post is, the fandom tends to take canon lore to the extreme or over analyze things to the point where they're just projecting. Trust me, I've been there, done that. I've learned my lesson (I think) and I wanted to share what I've learned.

Also (this is purely opinion) I don’t think Maglor was manipulative about anything, in the book, he just didn’t come off that way, for as little as he appeared, he actually seemed to be pretty optimistic (*regarding Eärendil) and honest (*the debate with Maedhros). He didn’t try to excuse himself or get the twins to pity him. Maglor raising the twins was out of pity/mercy, yes, but love grew (like what Tolkien said). He probably educated them on the facts and encouraged them to form their own opinions, whether that costed him their love or not. Maglor did have the more accurate moral compass compared to his brothers (in the end of the book!- Put down your pitchforks Maedhros stans!), especially if he knew that the Silmaril was better beyond their reach than where the enemy can also reach it. It was an accurate moral compass, although not a big one.

Argue, agree or disagree, or discuss with me! I want to hear different perspectives or opinions on this matter.

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

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Hello! Congratulations on making it to 650! Your fics are some of the best and you deserve all the love and attention.

Okay, could I ask for a romance with Jango Fett in a medieval or fantasy AU? I don’t know; the idea of Jango dressed in warrior king attire just waltzed through my mind and won’t leave me alone. Maybe something along the lines of the relationship started as purely political, but it turns out you’re good for one another and it’s just mutually falling for each other.

For The Dancing

Summary: Your marriage to Jango Fett was decided long before you were old enough to understand what was happening. And it was supposed to be a purely political marriage. Love was never meant to be part of the hand you were dealt. You’re not upset, however, when love appears.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

AU Prompt: Fantasy/Medieval AU

Word Count: 1550

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, reader is referred to as wife

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, so here is the first fic of my new event, and naturally I had to start with Jango! I hope you like it~

“You seem troubled, wife.” You don’t pull your gaze away from the garnet colored wine that you’re sipping when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway behind you.

“Not troubled,” You reassure after a moment, as you finally lower your glass back to the table, “Just pensive, I think.”

“May I join you?”

You finally turn your attention towards the man waiting in the doorway, an amused tilt to your lips, “You hardly need to ask for permission, Jango.” He’s dressed down, his ceremonial armor likely sitting neatly on it’s stand.

Oh, how far you and he have come since the day of your wedding.

There was a time when Jango would never dream of allowing you to see him without his armor.

You watch him as he steps onto the balcony and sinks into the chair across from you. Your expression doesn’t waver as he almost falls into the seat, as though there’s a massive weight on his shoulders.

“The talks went poorly then?” You ask, taking in the tension in his frame and the stress lines on his face.

He shifts in his seat and rests his cheek on his hand, “Don’t they always?” His dark gaze scans your face, “The Duchess asked after you.”

“Of course she did.” You reply dismissively, “Likely worrying about how I’ve been treated by you...godless heathens.” You add with an amused smile.

Jango’s lips quirk up into a small smile, “Those were her exact words.”

You shake your head, exasperated. “Honestly, you’d think she’d be better at this by now.”

He chuckles and leans back, “If it helps, she did seem to be genuinely concerned as to your well-being.”

“Hm. Yes, I don’t doubt that at all.”

“You have no intention of seeing her, I take it.”

You lift your wine glass again and absently twist the stem between your fingers, “There’s no point. Satine and I haven’t been close since we were children. And the last time we spoke, she had some things to say to me in regards to our marriage.”

“You’ve mentioned that before.” Jango allows, “Is that why you’re wallowing, wife?”

“Wallowing?” There’s a hint of laughter in your voice, “I suppose it must seem like I’m sulking a little bit.”

“Miles says that you haven’t left our wing since Satine and her entourage arrived.” Jango murmurs, “I am...concerned.”

You regard him fondly, “I have little love for large gatherings, Jango. You know that.”

“I would never dream of asking you to interact with people who cause you distress, wife. Were it in my power, I would cast Satine and her entourage out of our kingdom so that you might be less distressed.”

“It is in your power,” You remind him with an adoring smile, “But I would never dream of asking such a thing. You need these talks to go well.”

Jango taps a rhythm out on the table, “Is that what is troubling you?”

You pause, “The Kyr’tsad have become more bold with each passing day. Entire families have gone missing from the mining villages. Our people are afraid, husband.”

Jango grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, “I know. My hands are tied until Satine and her…” He makes a face and mutters something in Mando’a, “Until she agrees that we need to take decisive action.”

You straighten, “And what, pray tell, is my honorable cousin’s suggestion for dealing with the situation?”

“She would like us to talk.”

“...I...what?” For the first time, in a very long time, you’re properly befuddled.

He chuckles, “That has been the reaction of a lot of people. Including the Jedi who she brought with her to act as mediators.” Jango shakes his head, “The Jedi told her that her suggestion was a fool’s suggestion and that she needed to take the talks seriously, and she doubled down-” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck again.

You set your wine glass back on the table and smoothly stand to walk around the table. Gently, you settle your hands on his shoulders and start working out the tension in his shoulders and neck.

“I am not so eager to become a widow, Jango.” You murmur as he all but melts under your careful touch.

Jango tilts his head back so that his dark gaze is able to lock with your worried one. His hand comes up and presses against one of your hands, “I have no intention of leaving you a widow, wife. I will always come back to you, that I promise.”

“Gods willing,” You murmur in reply.

Slowly Jango turns the chair so that he’s facing you properly, and he stands so you’re standing chest to chest. He reaches out and lightly cups your cheeks with his warm hands. “Have you so little faith in my skills, wife?” He rumbles low in his chest.

Your eyes close as the scent and feel of Jango surrounds you, “It is not your skills that I have no faith in, Jango.” You press your hands over his, “Marching into battle with unwilling soldiers at your side-”

“That will never happen. You needn’t fret, wife.”

Your breath hitches as he presses his forehead against yours, and your eyes slide shut, “Satine is a fool, and she would see Mandalore lost before she gives up her ideals.”

“You know her better than I.” Jango says after a moment, “Would she truly sacrifice our homeland for the sake of her pacifism?”

“She believes that her way is the best way and that everyone will be better following her rules.” You murmur, “In a way, she’s just as fanatic as Pre Vizsla, just in the opposite direction.”

“Are you allowed to say that?” Jango asks, amused. “You are her cousin after all.”

You open your eyes and make a face, “I’ve always been a bit more even-keeled than Satine.”

“And I am grateful for it,” Jango admits, “And so our people.” He lightly strokes your cheek with his thumb and there’s something soft in his gaze. “While I would never dream of asking you to do something that you’re not willing to do, wife, I could use your silver tongue in the meetings tomorrow.”

You hum softly, “Then you shall have it.”

“Thank the stars,” He mutters, “Between you and the Jedi, I think the meeting will be less contentious tomorrow.”

You smile at him and lean into his warmth, “You are still so tense, husband.”

“It has been a very long day.”

“How can I help?”

Slowly, Jango drags his hands down from your cheeks, over your shoulders, and down your arms, until he’s cradling both of your hands with his own. “How long has it been since we last danced?” He asks as he lightly guides you from the balcony and back into the safety of your shared quarters.

“It’s been a couple of weeks, at least. You’ve been busy.”

“Well, that’s no excuse.” He twirls you into his arms, and starts dancing with you around the bedroom. There’s no music, but it’s perfect all the same.

“Careful, Jango.” You murmur as he spins you and then tugs you so you’re flush against his body, “You run the risk of making me fall in love with you.”

“Are you not already? Then I’m not trying hard enough.”

You laugh softly, and lightly brush your lips against his jaw. His hand, settled lightly on your hip, tightens. You’re no fool. You know that Jango loves you, you can tell in the way that he touches you, the way he looks at you, the way he protects you.

In truth, you love him too. You wouldn’t worry so much about him if you didn’t.

And he knows it.

The words are unnecessary at this point.

“I love dancing with you,” Jango murmurs, as he draws you closer to him and tilts your head back so his lips hover just over yours, “Have since the day of our wedding.”

“I feel the same way,” You murmur, “You’re the perfect dance partner.”

Jango closes the gap between your lips and his. He kisses you like you’re his most valued treasure, his lips warm and gentle against your own, though there’s a hint, just a hint, of roughness behind his lips.

Someday, you’re going to push him to see what he looks like when he’s not trying to be gentle with you. But not today.

He breaks the kiss and bumps his forehead against yours one more time, “When this crisis is over,” Jango murmurs, “I would like to speak with you about having a child.”

You blink at him, surprised, and then you smile, soft and slow, “A baby Jango.” You murmur.

“A baby you,” He corrects, “With your clever tongue and my strength.”

“He’ll be perfect.” You murmur with a warm smile.

“Yes. She will.”

You laugh, and slide your arms around him, “Alright, alright. As soon as this is dealt with, we can start trying for a baby.”

Jango grins, “Well, now I’m motivated.”

And then he sweeps you into a deep kiss, and you wrap your arms around him and allow yourself to be lost in him.

Love might not have been in the cards when you married him, but it’s in the cards now. And nothing could make you happier.

#star wars #star wars legends #vodika vibes 650 event #jango fett x reader #jango x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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mexipoopy · 4 months

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On Repeat - OC Tag Stuff

I was tagged by @acidheaddd to do this and AH thank you I've been mulling over this A LOT and it really made me think hard on my OCs and their stories. Credits to @elderwisp(a cool guy) for the idea.

OK! Onto the LORE

Ai [FSU -BigKlit]

1 shot, 2 shot, 3 shot, 4 Fuck it up, I wanna see the bodies hit the floor 5 shot, 6 shot, 7 shot, 8 We don't give a fuck, we burning down the whole place Fuck shit up, I wanna fuck shit up, I wanna fuck shit up

Rage, rage, rage. That's definitely a word to describe this guy. Ai is very aggressive due to good old trauma~* but despite his violent tendencies he's full of highly energized spite and fun, so this song encapsulates his personality pretty accurately with its fast pace and aggressive lyrics. A fist with a bright shining smile to accompany it.

Marisol [Holy Weather -Civil Twilight]

It’s not too late to go home Passion is this weight on my shoulders So why did you follow me into this den When all the bluest stars paint your name In a sky of black You must go back

Are you lost little soul? Marisol is a bit of a wanderer, who lets her curiosity dictate her actions. But where that curiosity leads her is full of a darkness that beckons her soul to light her path. She is constantly told to turn back by many colorful characters, despite this, she persists. There is a particular entity who crosses paths with her soul and is unable to escape her tenacity. This song with its regretful lyrics and soft instrumentals, parallel the dynamic of her affect on those around her especially the one that holds her soul closest to theirs and the consequences that happen because of it.

Isaiah [Daydreaming -Radiohead]

Beyond the point Of no return Of no return Then it's too late The damage is done The damage is done This goes Beyond me Beyond you

Liminal. Inhuman. Existence. Isaiah, if that is his true identity, is an individual full of whimsical mysteries and questions. What happens when a person dies, and who will lead us into the afterlife? Will the reaper come to aid us in our desperate confusion upon our passing? Where will you go? This song, compels the listener to wander and be lured by its ethereal instrumentals and the darkness that looms around it, much like how the darkness and uncertainty of death lingers among the living.

Jasper [You Don't Own Me -Tamino]

You may keep me hеre You seem to know just how To pin me to the ground Each timе you come around Take away my home Obscuring what I am And plague me all night long And lay claim to freedom's song

What good is greed if you don't possess yourself? Even the strongest can fall folly to abusive, parasitic relationships. Jasper, even in his conception was never meant to enjoy the freedom of individuality. Being a prisoner inside his own body and shackled by family ties and a predatory lover that only wishes to possess him, his autonomy is never of his own volition. Still, his soul persists, fighting and gnashing at every opportunity to break free from those that hold him captive. This song is one of rebelling to that which wants to possess and control you, which bears a haunting resemblance to Jasper's own struggles.

Anabelle [Do You Feel Real -Sevdaliza]

I thought I'd heal from you Or you'd escaped from me Maybe I'm too scared to forget you I just can't remember how it feels like to function without Absorbed in total free fall It's a waste of time It's not that serious

My void is one that comforts and cures a loneliness that it causes. What do you do when the only thing that comforts you is the presence of evil? When that is all that you are used to? Anabelle was born spreading death and misery wherever she went. But why? Is it the shadow that follows her and protects her as everything else withers away? Accompanied by low and drawn out instrumentals, the lyrics of this song perpetuate a relationship that is parasitic and addictive in nature, one that you thought you overcame but it persists. Anabelle craves love from the living and dreads the darkness that lingers and keeps her isolated. Still, she is plagued by her need to have it close or else her loneliness will destroy her.

Ira [Daisy -Brand New]

I'm a mountain that has been moved I'm a river that is all dried up I'm an ocean nothing floats on I'm a sky that nothing wants to fly in I'm a sun that doesn't burn hot I'm a moon that never shows its face I'm a mouth that doesn't smile I'm a word that no one ever wants to say

I am nothing. I crave to become everything. Ira is an anomaly. He exists but in a plane that no living creature can exist, all he knows, he knows from a dream that connects to his. She is beautiful, living, while he is nothing. Envy feeds his hunger, but nothing ever happens. HE shouldn't exist, yet he does. A paradox, much like the message of this song. The dream persists and reminds him that he should exist. But why is he here and not there? Maybe she can help him become real, and not a dream.

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AND that's it for that lol! I have way more characters that I have music for (but i don't have official finalized sim versions of them) so i just included these guys for now, I could include my Envidia story characters but i felt like this post is pretty long as it is sajkfa my bad. LOL all my song choices are existential/depressing save for Ai, because he's built different lol.

#oc: ai #oc: marisol #oc: isaiah #oc: jasper #oc: anabelle #oc: ira #ts4 #ts4: sim #tag game #SIDENOTE: fucking TOOL is amazing but posing sims is still a big pain in the ass in game #i cry #anyway this was a lot of fun thanks again for the tag!

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hannie-dul-set · 27 days

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can you pretty please do sunghoon?

[same face, different feelings]. park sunghoon has always thought you were a piece of shit.

ever since you walked into the frat house with an arrogant stride, an arrogant face, and an unwelcoming demeanor that just pisses him off from the very first inhale of your existence, he knew you’d never get along. he knew you’d eventually do something to piss him off.

and you did. which, in retrospect, was great because the aftermath to the whole…situation was you voluntarily moving out of the house, and that meant sunghoon didn’t have to deal with seeing your face for the next three months. reap what you saw, motherfucker, or however the saying goes. whatever. doesn’t matter because the quality of sunghoon’s life has become exponentially better.

that is until you decided to move back in again.

“i can’t believe you have the guts to come crawling back here after the shit you pulled last summer, you son of a bitch.”

and the words jump out of his throat before he even realizes it.

“hoon, play nice. that’s water under the bridge now,” jake tells him. “hey, dude! it’s glad to have you back!”

it’s one thing how you don’t even look the slightest bit remorseful about what you did. it’s another thing how your response was to look at him as if you didn’t even know what you did wrong.

now that pisses him off tenfold. why the fuck did jungwon even let you back in?

yet park sunghoon’s anger towards you made him fail to notice all the little things that were just the slightest bit off. have you ever been close with sunoo and niki? no, he doesn’t think so, but he never cared enough to give a shit about your relationships. jake and heeseung have been complaining that you don’t game or play soccer with them anymore, but who gives a fuck about that when your tendency of being a fucking whore shows turns a head yet again when he catches you and jang wonyoung stumble out of your bedroom, the latter hazy-eyed and flushed, when this morning he was just texting her to come over.

“they’re saying it’s just a misunderstanding! nothing happened between them, just let it go, man.”

sunghoon feels worse than heartbreak when he sees his best friend defending you, knowing full well you were the cause of his sister’s own heartbreak last summer. what the fuck? jay of all people knows how much he hates you. but turns out, the object of his hatred for the past two months isn’t the same person he’d hated at first glance.

things start making more sense when you gather them all in the living room one day—

“w—wait, what do you mean you’re not him?”

—and drop the big fucking bomb that for the past three months, you’ve been filling in the shoes of your twin brother and receiving the brunt of all his hatred.

all that information was too much for him to handle right now.

so the natural reaction is to run off to wherever his legs took him.

“sunghoon.”

that somewhere just had to be an obvious hiding spot. the rooftop of the shared house, in between the shrubs and the greens now drenched in the night where he’s crouched down and looking up to. but he’s not looking up at the stars in the sky. he’s looking at you—

“why are you wearing a mask?”

—half obscured by a medical cover which makes the guilt and hatred retching in his gut all the more complicated.

“i figured it would be weird for you to look at me when i look like that son of a bitch,” you say lightly. oh, so you also know how trashy that guy is, he thinks, and you crouch down in front of him, as if to tell him. yeah, i do. that’s why i’m in this situation in the first place. “if you can’t get an apology from him, i thought i could at least do it on his behalf.”

how considerate. he should’ve known that you were a different person. but god, every time he saw you, his animosity just jumped the gun before any other feeling could, so now he feels like shit, groaning with his head in his hands. “no, it’s just— i’ve hated your brother for fucking around with my sister, but i’ve been treating you like shit these past few months and that makes me no better than him.”

“no, you are! if i were you, i would’ve kicked my own ass the moment i stepped into the house,” you snap back. “the fact that you can even look at me and listen to me right now tells me that you’re a better person than he could ever be.”

with that, sunghoon lifts his head back up, and is met face to face with the same eyes he’s scorned just up until earlier this evening.

wrongfully so. had he looked a little closer, he would’ve noticed there’s not a single hint of arrogance in the way you’ve ever looked at him in these past three months. god, he’s terrible. the piece of shit is him, not you.

“that mask must be uncomfortable,” he mutters. “you can take it off.”

albeit hesitantly, you do, and once more sunghoon is slapped in the face with just how alike you and your brother look, and he has to swallow down his body’s automatic reaction of inherent hostility, but it doesn’t come.

it’s the same face. the same face, but he’s feeling differently. maybe now that his vision isn’t blurred and addled by anger, he’s able to see more clearly.

send me a kpop boy (txt/enha/zb1/bnd/dream) to toss into reverse harem hell! [jay]

#the crossdressing plot continues.#yes......each of the groups mentioned above have their own mini aus........yes my brain just wont stop churning.#blurb games #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios

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wittywallflower · 1 month

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DBDA post-s1 Catwin fic. rated G 2k words

Edwin went back to Port Townsend several months after their extended stay. He would never admit to expecting a warmer welcome from the shapeshifter who had professed to be so fond of him. But despite the time apart Edwin found he could still read beneath the facade of the apparently-disinterested man who didn’t stand to greet him and offered only desultory small talk.

He might cultivate an aura of boredom and indifference but of course the Cat King was feeling wary and a bit petulant, convinced he’d been forgotten about. Dubious of Edwin’s long absence and his motives for returning.

🔎

Edwin had simply needed to take the time to cope with everything that had happened.

Time to mourn for Niko, the first friend he’d made in anything approaching a normal way. His friendship with Charles was something unshakeable, but the circumstances of their first meeting had been rather extraordinary. Edwin and Crystal had formed a mutual affection only begrudgingly, after going through a lot together. But Niko… befriending her had come so naturally. Edwin’s afterlife was so supernatural that the easy simplicity of it all had made Niko even more special. Edwin missed her terribly.

Time was also needed to recover from round 2 of Hell, or more accurately to firmly repress as much of that experience as he could. He had talked extensively of Hell to Charles early in their acquaintance; nothing needed to be rehashed, in Edwin’s opinion. It had been more of the same and he much preferred other uses of his time.

Like the time spent letting his unrequited heart be soothed by Charles’ platonic devotion. To be sure that his feelings for his best friend wouldn’t complicate things. He hadn’t worried too much about their work, knowing Charles was similarly dedicated to their cause. He was nervous about the leisure time spent alone together, always so comfortable and often fun in ways some people thought Edwin incapable of. What would Edwin even do without Charles to help fill all the hours a ghost didn't spend on sleeping or eating or grooming?

Nothing had changed though. Their friendship stayed just the same. Edwin had frankly expected it to hurt a lot more. It wasn’t painless, but as he continued to talk and laugh and solve cases with his dearest friend, Edwin realized that he didn’t need to pine for the romantic love Charles didn’t return. What Charles could give him was more than enough. He knew he had Charles' love and respect and admiration; no one could possibly care for Edwin more than the boy who went to Hell to bring him back. Charles gave him protection, help, an ear when he needed it, and gave him equal time and attention as he gave Crystal.

Just because Edwin hadn’t seen the appeal in kisses until recently, didn’t mean that his relationship with Charles was somehow lesser for the lack of them.

And on the subject of kissing, it had come time for Edwin to actually come to terms with the things he had recently realized about himself. This meant research. The local library had a very helpful display front and center, actually. Edwin couldn’t have known beforehand, but it was quite auspicious that he had begun his research in June. He had learned a lot.

In the safe space of the Cat King’s private lair, with the man he didn’t have to hide with, who liked his secret parts, Edwin had the courage to say as much - though rather more succinct and impersonal words.

“Is that why you’re here then?" the Cat King inquired. "Curiosity? Need a queer mentor for the questions the books can't answer?”

“I would think you of all people would appreciate a bit of curiosity.”

For the first time since Edwin had arrived, the Cat King’s smile looked the way he remembered it.

“Touché.”

Edwin couldn’t help a small smile in return, sensing how fun it could be to banter with the man now that there were no high stakes involved.

“So, what then," the Cat King asked further, "looking for tips on how to make that second kiss a winner? I could probably offer some… personal instruction in that.”

The words were suggestive, and a wink accompanied them, but it rang a bit hollow. Edwin didn’t fail to notice that before he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Why do people keep offering me kissing lessons?” he huffed.

That got the Cat King’s attention, and he sat up sharply, abandoning his indolent pose on the shabby pallet throne.

“Who?” he asked, barely managed to make it a question rather than a demand.

Edwin had to swallow some emotion before he could speak.

“Niko was the only person I had ever talked to about… kissing. She said she would be a ‘guinea pig’ if it would help me be less anxious about it. She thought I should save it for someone i really liked, but she still made the offer anyway.”

Such a romantic soul, but willing to do anything to help her friends.

Edwin sighed and shook off the creeping sadness.

“Anyway, somehow Crystal got wind of the conversation and felt a need to point out that Niko really didn’t have the experience to be very helpful. Then Crystal offered to teach me herself, if I found a way to suggest to Charles that he adopt some of her preferred techniques.”

The Cat King stared unblinking for a long moment, then shook his head slightly is dismay.

“Hon, this love triangle you’ve got going on is a little perverse. Tell me you turned Crystal down.”

Obviously there was no way the prim prissy ghost accepted either offer. The idea was ridiculous. But it would still be nice to hear it said out loud.

The Cat King would accept any of Edwin’s kisses, but it did sting how narrowly he had missing having Edwin’s first. He would have been properly appreciative of it; he would have done it right, not as a surprise in some dark, shitty forest.

Second kiss wasn’t bad though. Second was still his goal.

Edwin answered with a look of exasperation. “Obviously I did not accept. Even if I were so inclined, I can’t see how the inevitable awkwardness would be worth it.”

“If you were 'so inclined', the fun would be worth it. The want, and pleasure.”

The Cat King’s smile was smoldering as he called back to their first conversation. Edwin’s non-corporeal body didn’t blush, but he suddenly had a rather strong memory of that it felt like to have his cheeks heat.

“Yes, well,” Edwin straightened his collar, and his posture, “I don’t have any experience with that sort of…fun. I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“I could show you.”

Edwin looked at him closely, and took a step nearer. The Cat King’s head tilted back to look up at the tall ghost as he approached where the shorter man sat.

“That’s why I am here,” Edwin said without fanfare.

The Cat King almost choked on air, eyes wide, mouth dropping open.

Edwin leaned in to press a finger to the underside of the shapeshifter's chin, lifting until his mouth closed again.

“I know you could show me things I can’t even imagine,” Edwin almost stuttered when the cat king’s pupils blew wide and the magical being inhaled deeply. Suddenly he looked every inch like a predator ready to pounce.

Edwin managed to continue, “and for some reason you’re perhaps the only person I could see myself trusting enough to be comfortable with.”

Too surprised by Edwin’s forthrightness to have a response to that, the Cat King could only stare up at him.

Edwin smiled almost sadly and dropped his hand from the other’s chin.

“But that would have undoubtedly complicated things I was already struggling to figure out. Since Hell , the first time, I was always running and hiding from Death, and in a way also from myself. I didn’t let myself want anything, except to stay out of Hell. Now that it’s not a threat, things have changed. I had to figure out something to aspire to, a goal, something I want rather than just want to avoid.”

“And what do you want?” The Cat King’s voice was underlain with a purr that had Edwin remembering goosebumps on his skin.

“To continue my work,” he answered plainly.

The shapeshifter rolled his eyes. He was not the least bit surprised and wasn’t that kinda the worst part of it?

“Even now that you don't need the good deeds as leverage to avoid Hell?” he asked anyway, even though he really could have expected no less from the ghost.

The reminder of what he had admitted under the influence of the Cat King’s truth spell was unpleasant to Edwin.

“As I said, I was ashamed of that motive. But that was never my only reason for being a detective. And now without the guilt hanging over me, I can enjoy myself more. I won't have to worry about watching our backs from Death, I can focus on the cases and be better at my work.”

The Cat King nodded, knowing that was true. Edwin did love being a detective, using that big beautiful brain of his to solve puzzles and save the day. It was his calling and it would always be his main priority.

“Sounds like you’ve got it worked out then. Got your dream job, got your weird little situationship with your best buddy. What more could a dead boy want?” he asked, a pleasant but oddly empty smile on his face.

“I want to spend time with you,” Edwin answered with hesitation.

The Cat King’s face fell in surprise at the bald admission.

“I want to talk with you,” Edwin went on. “Speak as equals without a magic bracelet or an urgent case hanging over us.”

“I’ve never really had your full attention, have I?” the Cat King realized with a pout. “Always such a busy little detective.”

Edwin’s lip quirked upward despite himself.

“I do take my work very seriously. Too seriously, according to some. But despite appearances, I don’t work all the time. And now it should… feel easier to take time off”

Now he wouldn’t feel so guilty if he wasn’t helping someone every single day.

The implication that Edwin wanted to spend his time off with the Cat King was just delightful. The older man tried but it was clear from the way he had to hide a smile as he playfully feigned a protest.

“Kings are busy too, you know.”

Edwin nodded gravely, as if his eyes weren’t sparkling with mirth just as much as the king’s were.

“I’m certain we can manage to coordinate our schedules.”

“To schedule time for a chat?”

Only a chat? was the unspoken question.

Edwin raised an eyebrow, somehow both humorous and haughty.

“I am amenable to some recreational activities. Or a meal, if you don’t mind being the only one eating.”

“Careful there, ghostie. It's starting to sound like you’re asking me on a date.”

The Cat King could no longer restrain a wide grin. He knew he probably looked like a lovesick idiot. Which was… not inaccurate.

Edwin let himself smile back fully, without restraint. He known all along that the Cat King was intrigued by him, had been attracted to him since that first moment in Port Townsend. But now it was quite clear that it was more than simply a cat’s curiosity, or a hedonist’s lust. Edwin was a bit surprised how the idea of a chaste date had the other man looking like the cat that got the cream.

“I am doing just that,” Edwin confirmed. Then pretended at ruefulness. “And I'm sure you are insufferably pleased about the fact.”

The Cat King chuckled and reached out to take Edwin’s hand.

“Oh you handsome thing, you have no idea.”

#catwin #dead boy detectives #the cat king

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hina-hina · 2 years

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Hi! How are you doing? Well i hope! This is my first time sending a request (ever) and i don't know how exactly this works. I apologize if I did/do something wrong!

But i was wondering if you could write something about a reader who draws everyone in the group because they are so inspiring and cool! And they know that, even teasing Ghost because they never saw the reader draw him even as a little stick man haha.

But what do you think would happened if the reader left their skechtbook open on the pages dedicated only to Ghost (and he ends up seeing), even with small poems or love declarations in the corners of the page? The descripition of the drawings can be whatever you want, spicy ones, fluffly, badass memories the reader has about him, anything!

(Reader doesn't participate directly in the battlefield but act "behind the cameras" because they are a little clumsy and desperate when it comes to pressure.)

(Simon riley x gn or fem!reader )

And if you can't write this at all is tottaly fine! I don't even know if you are gonna read this lol. Also, i love your writing and the way you write everything with the right measure of fluffly stuff makes everything even better. Without further ado, have a good night / afternoon / day.

☆anon! <3

Hello friend!! First off, thank you for all the sweet stuff you said about my writing!! It really warms my heart knowing people like what I write. Second of all, this request is so cute!! I also quite like to draw and I love the headcanon of any character drawing him or what he looks like!! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost With an S/O Who Secretly Draws Him ||

Tags: Military!Reader, Artist!Reading, Fluff, Blushy Ghost, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Soft Ghost, Awkward Ghost (lol)

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

So, like what is stated in the request, you worked as a intelligence analysis for the 141

You spent a lot of time with the 141, working with informants to properly distribute intelligence to its members

You worked off field, often staying on base due to your clumsy nature

You liked to spend time with the 141 while they were on base, usually by hanging out in a pub or in the rec room

When Soap noticed you drawing one day, he encouraged you to draw him which then led to you drawing other members of the 141

Your sketchbook was filled with pictures of Captain Price, Gaz, Soap, and even a few of Laswell

Most of these drawings show them in action, a way for you to express just how inspiring they are

You drew everyone, everyone except Ghost

This often caused him to get teased as you guys hung out, Soap making numerous comments about the mask causing him to be "undrawable"

Ghost doesn't seem to mind all that much, but you really can't tell with the mask how he feels

Whenever the subject gets brought up, however, you start to blush and try to change the subject which made Ghost slightly curious

Therefore, one day when he goes to your on-base quarters in order to inform you of an upcoming briefing

When Ghost knocks on the door, the door opens due to it having been cracked

Ghost pauses for a moment, before stepping into the room and calling out your name

When he notices that the room is empty, he starts to leave before noticing your sketchbook laying open on the edge of your bunk

He knew it was wrong to invade your privacy, about to leave and reprimand himself for even considering looking through your property

However, when he caught a glimpse of a skull drawing, he couldn't help but inch closer

He told himself that he would just take a quick look and leave before you even knew he had went to your room

This fails however when he gets a really good look at the page

On the page, beside the photo of his skull mask, is a photo of him

Or, what he could guess is what you think he looks like without his mask

He is surprised at how accurate it is, a few scars missing here and there but overall he could tell it was meant to be him

He forgets himself for a moment, picking the boot up to get a closer look

He notices that you had wrote notes in the margins, notes on things that were apparently wrong with the drawing

He glances back at the ajar door before quickly turning the page

On the next page, he is even more taken aback

This page includes photos of him in action or just relaxing in the rec room, some with his mask on some without

He notices more writing in the margins, noticing that it is written in a much fancier way that the notes from the previous page

He reads it, feeling his face become hot from under his balaclava as he realizes they are love notes

From poems to letters, they range in tone and length, obviously being well-thought out

He is very taken aback by the words, not thinking that anyone could ever say these kind of things about someone like him

Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming up from down the hallway, causing him to snap the book shut and spin around, not having nearly enough time to leave as you appeared in the doorway

You had clearly been coming back from the showers as you pause not expecting him to be standing in your room

When you ask him what he is doing there, he feels himself at a loss for words

"Uh-"

Before he could even collect his thoughts you realize your sketchbook is now missing from where you had left it, searching Ghost's masked face before realizing

"You looked through my sketchbook..."

It wasn't a question, rather a statement of fact

Ghost sighs, feeling the edges of guilt pulling at his consciousness, holding the closed book out to you,

"Price sent me to find you and your door was left open, so-"

You snatch the book from his hand, "So you thought it was fine to go through my stuff?"

Ghost feels a twinge of annoyance at your tone, before reminding himself that he was in the wrong

"It was wrong. I'm sorry."

You fiddle with the edge of your book, not daring to make eye contact with him

"...Did you read it."

He briefly considers lying, if only to give himself more time to process his feelings

He doesn't do this however, replying with a quiet, "...Yes."

You nod, turning away to set your book and shower caddy down before heading toward the door,

"I'll go talk to Price about getting transferred. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable-"

"Wait-"

His hand shoots out and grabs your arm, causing a shiver to run down your back as you turn to face him

It's hard to tell anything about what he is thinking with the mask so you just wait for him to continue

Eventually his grip loosens, but he doesn't let go,

"It didn't."

"...What?"

"It didn't... Make me uncomfortable."

This surprised you, but when he didn't continue you turn fully to him, about to probe him to continue when he awkwardly moved his hands down to your waist to pull you further from the door

"I... like you... too."

The words are forced out, him clearly not being used to this but not willing to let you just walk out of his life

You smile shyly back at him, placing your hands slowly on the sides of his neck in case he wants to pull away

He doesn't

"Really?"

He nods, showing you a rare vulnerability that proves that he wasn't used to this at all

You can't help the urge to kiss him, placing your hands around the edge of his balaclava

"May I?"

He doesn't respond, instead taking one hand off of your waist to pull off his mask completely, placing the hand on the side of your face before moving closer to you, silently asking for a kiss

You quickly oblige

The kiss is soft, just a quick press of lips filled with a gentleness that he deserved

You pull back, pressing your hands into his cheeks and marveling at the way he presses into your hands

"Guess I wasn't too far off, huh?"

He smiles slightly, grabbing your hand and moving it down to the large scar that stretched across his cheek,

"Forgot this one."

You move your hands across it lightly, just your fingertips making contact

"I'll get it in the next one."

You smile, moving back in for another kiss and wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer

He knew the two of you would be late to the briefing

He couldn't find it in himself to care

Thanks for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettprooff @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you

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