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missterious-figure · 3 months

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Part 1

(Just a little scenario I thought up. This takes place a little after y/n first gets Sun and Moon)

"Ring-a-ring!"

You groaned as you heard your phone vibrate with each blaring sound. What in your right mind were you thinking when you made this your ringtone? You opened one eye, looking to the window to gage the time. There was no light streaming through the curtains, so you could tell it was still dark outside. Lazily sitting up, you slapped at the dresser next to your bed a few times, catching nothing but an empty palm, before your hand landed on your phone. Just as you did, the ringing fell silent.

Giving a sleepy yawn, you used your thumb to tap the screen, and it turned on. You weren't prepared for the sudden flash of light in your eyes and, with a startled growl, you almost dropped your phone onto your lap. Squinting through the glaring light, you swipped down the brightness level. Good, now you could actually see. You pressed the missed calls icon on your phone. Who was calling so early in the morning? You froze at the number. Your dad.

You immediately put your phone back on the dresser and tucked yourself back into bed. You didn't have the energy to deal with him right now. He and your mom had always been so controlling, and were probably only calling to try to guilt trip you into abandoning your fish store and coming home to work at the family business. This business was a restaurant, and a shabby one at that. And they would probably try to pawn you off as a spouse to one of their friends' kids as well. You hated that they had literally already been thinking of ideas for your wedding when you were like, what, ten?

Anyway, enough about that. You didn't want to think about them anymore. Just knowing they were trying to contact you again made you tired. You conked out only a few minutes later, eager to let sleep take you back.

***

Later that morning, after you had gotten ready and eaten, you went down stairs to the floor bellow your home. Your fish shop. A while back, you had bought a cheap two story building that had been for sale on a small shopping district in town. Sure, there wasn't much space inside either floor, but you could make it work. You lived om the top floor and set up your store on the bottom one.

Rows of small to medium sized fish tanks lined the walls. There was a long island in the middle of the floor, and it also had its own row of tanks. A few bar lights hung from the ceiling, ready to be turned on. Your shop brightened up and you grabbed a few different shakers of fish food from behind the checkout counter near the front of the store. This was almost your favorite part of the day. Feeding the fish. You made sure to give the right type of food to the right type of fish. You just loved to see how excited they would get as you walked to each tank.

Soon your little task was done. It was almost time to open. You needed to do one last thing: check on the "fish" outside. You walked to the back of the store and out a door to your backyard. Three large ponds resided at the right side of your yard, a shed and a few potted plants taking up the left side. A tall wooden fence bordered it all the way around. Large bushes poked up from outside the fence.

A loud splash caught your attention. From the pond closest to you, two familiar eyes peeked out. You ran to the ponds edge and kneeled down. The eyes had disappeared. You peered into the water, excitedly calling out,

"Come on, Sunny! I know you're in there!"

As you finished your sentence, a large creature popped out of the water. It's yellow top half resembled a human with a circular face, pointed teeth and sharp claws. Instead of hair, it had seven white rays adorning it's face and orange, veil-like fins that flopped all the way to it's back. It also flopped over it's face. Even stranger, it had a white and blue fish tail starting from it's hips down.

"Sunny! There you are, boy!"

You giggled as the creature chattered, confused, as he looked in vain to find you. Reaching a hand out, you gently swept his fins up and out of his face. He squeaked excitedly, now that he finally could see you. He pulls his chest out of the water and onto the edge of the pond next to you, folding his arms underneath him as support. Moving into a sitting position, you cup his round face in you hands. In a friendly response, he purrs and leans into you soft touch.

"Hey, Sunny! Couldn't wait to see ya! You like getting pets, right buddy?"

He nudges your hands with his cheeks, as if asking for cheek rubs. Which, of course, you generously give. This is your favorite part of the day. Even though you haven't known him long, it feels like he is your very best friend. He seems to understand you, and even tries to comfort you when he notices you look sad. He warbles and gurgles at you, and you like to believe, personally, he's trying to really talk to you. He has even sung to you a handful of times. He always tries to do things specifically to make you smile and you know it. Nobody has ever been this kind to you. Not like Sun.

Sun suddenly jerked away from your hands, interrupting your thoughts. You pulled them back towards your chest, startled by Sun's odd behavior. He's looking towards the fence, a low growling emitting from his throat. You hope maybe he just heard a raccoon or stray cat. You nervously ask, as if you would get an answer,

"What is it, Sunny?"

Of course, there's no response as he keeps growling, eyes lazer-focused on the direction of whatever he heard.

Link to part 2 below!

#dca au #fish store au #dca mer au #mer sun #guppy sun #digital art #store owner y/n #missterious drabble

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 4 months

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Options for the next web serial Patreon vote

It's time to vote on what the next derinwrites web serial will be. Sample chapters for each option will be provided shortly, then a poll will go up so that patrons can vote on what web serial I should write next.

Inner Life

Nobody knows who they really are when they’re first born. But most people get time to figure it out, and when you’re a body-snatching alien parasite, you don’t get that luxury. The parasites that find themselves on the starship Jolly Codger don’t know what a human is, or what their spaceship’s mission is, or where they’re going. They don’t know who on the ship is an ally, and who is an uninfected human who’ll kill them the moment they’re detected. But they’d better figure it out, because the Jolly Codger has its own secrets and its own enemies, and the real threat isn’t the crew – it’s what’s chasing them.

Child of a Wandering Star

Tyk is a normal adolescent girl, interested in normal adolescent things – earning gems for her carapace, learning to be the best burrower for the hive, making her mother and father and altmother and altfather proud of her. But Tyk was born under a Wandering Star, destined to be a traveller, and it’s hard to really feel a part of a hive that raises you with the expectation of watching you leave them someday. Tyk doesn’t want to go. She’s ready to fight destiny.

But her destiny finds her when a star-egg falls from the sky and hatches a baby god. Soft-shelled, two-legged and clawless, this larva is all but helpless on its own and quickly attaches itself to Tyk. The Stargazers divine that it should be brought to Starspire, the place where earth meets sky, so that it can be returned to its people. This, here, is the destiny that Tyk was born to.

But Tyk’s not sure she’s cut out for such a gruelling journey, and she’s certainly not cut out for raising a baby god. Is this really her journey to make?

Silverbane

Jade was just looking to fulfil her jobseeker requirements and get her Centrelink payment. She didn’t expect to actually get the job working at the mysterious new pawn shop full of weird, creepy artefacts. She had no interest in dealing with bleeding knives, ghost dolls, and whatever the hell it is that keeps using all the mugs in the break room without washing them, even when nobody’s present in the shop but her.

Jade would like to be able to shrug and say that it’s none of her business. She really, really wishes that she was the kind of person who could leave things alone if they weren’t her business. But after snooping a little too deep a little too often, she finds herself tangled up in something a lot scarier than the occasional haunted doll, working for the kind of… “people”… who are perfectly happy to eliminate something the moment it becomes more dangerous to them than useful. And through them, she can learn more about how the world really works than she ever expected.

She just has to hope that it’s worth it.

Our Side of the River Styx

A woman who can see the dead joins forces with her zombie wife to become exorcists-for-hire, helping the dead and living alike find peace. But there’s something strange going on with the barrier between worlds; something stranger than murderous phantoms in white or menacing shadowy figures in hotels. Something… organised. Something growing.

The exorcists are out to pay the rent, not save the world. But when a string of supposedly unconnected jobs forms such an obvious trail of bread crumbs, what is there to do but follow it? Will our Styx-crossed lovers figure out what’s at the heart of this conspiracy in time to thwart it, or does this adventure end in a long-overdue funeral?

The Princess of Ruby Island

Every little girl dreams of being whisked away to be the princess of a magical world on their tenth birthday. But for Jessica Nyle, born on February 29th, finding herself in a strange magical realm on her tenth birthday at age 40 is surprising, to say the least. And what they don’t tell little girls about fantastical magical realms built from dreams is that they’re prone to environmental instability, which can cause mass famine. And that magical limitations can cause factionalisation and extreme power imbalances, which leads to oppression and war. And that the idea of an island made entirely of ruby sounds fantastic, but ruby loses its charm and value as a gemstone when it’s literally the ground you walk on and, as a probably unimportant side detail, one thing you can’t do with ruby is grow crops in it. So that’s less than ideal.

This isn’t the whimsical adventure that mass media had lead Jessica to expect as a child, where all you needed to do to save the world was be brave and true and hold love in your heart and believe in yourself despite everything. Being the Princess of Ruby Island is a dirty job that requires cunning, hard work, political acumen, and a whole lot of luck. And it certainly doesn’t help that forces festering on Ruby Island were quite comfortable filling the previous power vacuum and would very much prefer it if there was no Princess bustling about and messing up their plans.

This is gonna take the power of a LOT of friendships to sort out.

The Cinder Boy

Owen is a wizard’s servant, and has been since he was old enough to walk. He doesn’t remember the mother who abandoned him there or the world she came from, and has never really thought much on the issue. Until the day the old crone comes to the wizard’s tower and, defying the wizard who tries to throw her out (Owen had never, until that moment, see anybody successfully defy the wizard), tells him that his mother was one of the Cinderellae, the hidden organisation of destiny-weavers named for the punishment doled out to them if they are caught – to be burned alive on the town pyre. Other people, she tells him, will try to get their hooks in him, and this tower can no longer keep him safe.

With the help of three friendly breezes trapped in the bodies of helpful mice and a shard of mage glass for protection, Owen must journey into the dangerous world that the wizard’s tower has sheltered him from his whole life. He’s watched the wizard weave people’s destinies for years, but until now, he’s never had to weave his own.

He’d better figure it out fast. Because danger is brewing in the kingdom, and he seems to be somebody’s pawn. He just wishes he knew whose.

Drops of Blood Like Neon Stars

This one is already being written on and off in my free time. Promoting it to main story would allow me to spend my full time on it and ensure weekly updates.

Vampires are good at stability. Life in the Scarlet City has been stable, despite the competing blood factions, for a long time, as has been their mutually beneficial relationship with the human city above. But when a drastic political play by young vampires coincides with a mysterious slate of human murders, Lissa needs to find out what’s going on and put a stop to it before the City is plunged into all-out war.

Holy Light

It’s been 164 years since the Rapture, and 157 years since the end of the world, but humanity’s still doing what humanity does best: holding on. Ageless and resistant to damage and disease, the people who had the luck and quick thinking to hide themselves from God’s purifying light as it uplifted every soul it touched a century and a half ago live on in the dark, doing their best to keep going forward in a world trying to end. But with no new souls coming into Earth, no children have been born since the end. And all it takes to be abducted to heaven is one mistake, one small kiss of sunlight. Eventually, humanity is going to lose this fight.

But Claire thinks she might have found an answer. A way to bring new children into the world once more, a way to return to the flow of normal time. And if it works, then just maybe, they can save the world.

I Am Not The Chosen One

Hannah is having mysterious dreams of a gate on a hill. Jake is getting urgent messages from a strange man in the mirror. Victoria might have accidentally summoned a demon, and Blaire is the luckiest unlucky seventeen year old in the world and has almost died three times this week alone, which is great for his tiktok career but less so for his long-term survival. But the thing that’s really interfering with all of their lives is the shadowy organisation of strangers who keep trying to abduct them.

They’re looking for the Chosen One. The Chosen One, firstborn child of the lost princess of Vanalia, needs to go with them through a portal to a magical land to save everyone there from a tyrannical dark lord, but anyone other than the Chosen One would almost certainly die. Hannah, Jake, Victoria and Blaire are pretty sure that none of them are the Chosen One, but the strangers seem dead set on trying anyway. The only way out seems to be to find this lost princess or her firstborn child for these strangers, and send them off on a magical coming-of-age adventure. But how does one even go about tracking down a Chosen One?

Denise Frank’s Feelgood Recipe Blog

Join me, Denise Frank, on my blog, where every week I share one of my favourite recipes! Every recipe blog needs long, rambling personal stories before getting to the recipe, and mine is no exception. I’ve had a lot of time to cook and not many people to talk to since The Event, so you can expect a high quality blog from me, full of recipes that have been tried hundreds if not thousands of times! Thousands of times over thousands of days. Thousands and thousands of days. I’d have thought I’d be noticeably older by now, but I’m not. I guess that’s what good food and a positive attitude can do for you!

Come and visit my blog for delicious recipes and happy memories, and positive affirmations to help you make it through the day! After all, we gotta get through today to see tomorrow, and there’s gotta be something worth seeing tomorrow! Experience suggests that it probably won’t be something pleasant, but it’ll definitely be something worth seeing! This has to end eventually. Join me to learn to make delicious apple crumble, a microwave brownie for every day of the week, and a beef jerky recipe that my husband used to love! Can’t wait to see you there!

I’d really like to see you.

#writing #derinwrites

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themurphyzone · 4 months

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Son of Darkwing AU: Just Like You Epilogue

As promised, here’s the epilogue.

Warning for mentions of alcoholism, implied substance abuse, small amount of profanity. Rating of this fic has been bumped to a T.

AO3 Link

Trash littered the floor of his old apartment, flies buzzing around moldy pizza crusts and slimy, rotten apple cores. The stench of rot reeked through the air.

The pungent smell had long driven out all the other renters in the complex, except for that stubborn, ancient geezer of a mutt on the second floor who always watched that irritating Pelican’s Island farce of a show with the sound turned all the way up. He claimed to be hard of hearing.

But that old fart just enjoyed tormenting him through the paper-thin walls.

Perhaps he oughta visit tomorrow. Have a little friendly chat about being a good neighbor and pour him a cold one, just like old times.

He’ll even slip a razor blade into the can. Why not? He was in a giving mood. The mutt deserved a special treat.

A cockroach scuttled by his foot, and he crushed it with his heel. Its guts spilled out of its disgusting little body, its legs and antennae detaching as he wiped his heel along the stained carpet.

His landlord would’ve put that infamous tightwad Scrooge McSuck to shame with his cheapness. Never bothered paying for pest control service.

Now, how should he repay the landlord for renting such wonderful accommodations to the poor, down-on-their-luck beggars and hobos of society?

He wasn’t going to repeat his plan for the mutt. That sort of revenge was boring. Devoid of any creativity whatsoever.

No, the punishment should fit the crime. Hit ‘em right where it hurts most.

The landlord couldn’t bear to part with his money, now could he? Kept it all locked away in a safe beside his desk and refused to entrust it to a bank. Even had the combination password written on a sticky note for convenience and never bothered to memorize it.

Would be a crying shame if someone were to steal all that precious loot.

Hell, he’d let the landlord watch too. Let him be the audience to his first crime after his grand comeback.

And to convey his eternal gratitude, he’d give him the honor of being the first victim of his chainsaw.

The hum of rusty metal slicing into every obstacle in its path was music to his ears.

He obliterated the old, battered couch. Stuffing and fabric scattered everywhere as he thrust the deadly, whirring blade deep into the frame. The enormous cut was jagged and messy, just the way he liked it.

Then he turned to the coffee table. He picked up the remote and hurled it into the TV. The glass splintered with a loud crack, a gorgeous spiderweb forming on the screen.

He cleaved the coffee table in half, hacking away at the furniture until it was nothing more than useless scraps of firewood.

His chainsaw wreaked destruction upon everything it touched. It didn’t matter what he tore through. Wood, paper, glass, the foundation of the apartment itself.

Nothing mattered except for beautiful, destructive chaos.

To hell with the world. It didn’t give a damn about him, didn’t give him the adoration and accolades and admiration he deserved while he was in his prime. The shelf he’d reserved for his trophies was barren and filled with nothing but dust and cobwebs.

Though the memories were hazy, he remembered owning several golden, shining trophies at some point in his life.

They were gone now, most likely stolen by some thief looking to make a quick buck.

He sold the trophies himself. Cashed them in at a sketchy pawn shop in one of the roughest neighborhoods of St. Canard. Probably got less than their actual worth, but alcohol was alcohol.

He swung his chainsaw at the empty shelf, taking out the plaster and drywall behind it as well. Half of the shelf flew into a wilted, dying potted plant, knocking it down and spilling topsoil and leaves everywhere.

Despite this, a single leaf remained green, clinging stubbornly to life.

A useless effort.

The chainsaw sliced the leaf to an insignificant green pulp.

He laughed at its demise. Why bother trying to live if the rest of the plant was rotting away?

Why should he give a crap about anything when all the world had ever done was turn their back on him? He’d wasted so much of his life trying to entertain a fickle audience who would never give him what he wanted.

He’d pushed his body to its limits by performing all his stunts, broke his bones and bruised himself a million times over to make it look authentic, and for what?

To be forgotten as soon as the executives found a new cash cow show to mass produce toys for?

To never land any other major role in a TV show or movie, not even as a typecast, because they thought he’d ruin the show before it ever took off?

Then there was the greatest offense of all, to never be invited to reprise his role in what would’ve been the greatest comeback in the entire entertainment industry, snubbed by his fans who claimed to worship the ground he tread upon and that prissy wannabe director who had no respect for the franchise.

And there was the worst of the lot…an ungrateful, selfish duck he’d raised from an egg and once called son.

He’d grown into a mockery of Darkwing Duck’s legacy, a pale imitator of the original. A cunning thief who’d stolen his identity, his life, and his fans.

He bellowed in rage, ripping the phone and answering machine from its wires and hurling them out the broken window. The phone broke through the fragile glass and tumbled three stories to the ground. But the answering machine laid in shambles, a shrill beep and distorted, mechanized voice emitting from its speakers.

“You have ninety-one missed messages. If you’d like to hear these messages-”

He slammed his fist against the machine. But instead of shutting off, a voice, one so insultingly timid and meek, filtered through.

“Hi, Dad. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, and again, I’m really sorry I couldn’t convince Boorswan to at least give you a cameo appearance…but I was kinda hoping we could catch up? It’s been a while since we did something togeth-”

His chainsaw cut through the machine, silencing it forever. The whirring blade lodged into the floor beneath the destroyed nuts and bolts. He yanked on the handle, but the chainsaw wouldn’t budge.

Cursing, he shut the chainsaw off and kicked it in frustration.

All that buzzing had given him a headache.

He needed a damn drink. The brand didn’t matter. It just needed to be strong, bitter, and kill the migraine that pounded away at his skull.

A sharp pain traveled up his spine as he stumbled to the kitchen. He was forced to rely on the wall to keep his balance, and he loathed it with every fiber of his being.

Dirty dishes filled the sink and spilled onto the counter. He’d never gotten around to tying up the trash bags and taking them to the dumpster either. While the odor might’ve been off-putting to anyone else, it failed to compare to the Duckburg sewer he’d escaped through.

He rummaged through the refrigerator until he found a can of beer that had gotten wedged in the back. His sleeve was covered in old food stains as he pulled his arm out, but he didn’t care.

There was a voice somewhere in the back of his mind, some quack doctor straight out of med school warning him not to drink while on his painkiller prescription, listing out all the horrible side effects, and how that could affect him in the long run.

That doc could kick rocks for all he cared.

He popped a handful of painkillers into his mouth and guzzled down the beer. He’d survived things that would’ve killed other ducks a million times over. He wasn’t about to drop dead from this.

If he wanted to go out, he’d do it in a blaze of glory. He refused to die as some nameless nobody.

He crushed the empty can and tossed it aside.

It was the last one he had. Nothing else except the painkillers had any value attached to them. He shoved the bottle into his pocket, figuring it was best to keep it for his personal use.

The only other items he found that would be remotely useful were several kitchen knives, scattered haphazardly through several drawers. Small enough to conceal within his clothing, and lethal enough when he was ready to slash and stab and hack away at anybody who dared cross him.

He slipped the smaller knives into the inside pockets of his jacket. Then he tested out the largest blade in his hands.

It had a long, serrated edge, and its jagged shape would increase the risk of his enemies hurting themselves if they tried to knock it out of his hand.

If he wanted to be flashy and draw everyone’s attention to himself, then his chainsaw was the perfect tool to induce terror and create mass chaos.

But the daggers were more personal, a method to convey his hatred and deliver vengeance to everyone who wronged him. Yet a simple stab wound wouldn’t even make them feel a fraction of the pain they’d put him through.

He’d have to build up a weapon collection, but for now, this would do.

He dragged the knife along the table, the counter, the wall, and across any solid object in reach as he left the kitchen, leaving behind a horrid, shrill screech and thin white scars along every obstacle in his path.

There was only one place left to visit before he burned down this dump for good.

He had some cash stuffed somewhere in his bedroom. It wasn’t McSuck’s Money Bin, nor did he plan to pay for his fix at the next mom and pop convenience store he passed, but having a little greenery was better than nothing.

He plunged his dagger into the underside of his mattress, lifting it into the air. There was a small collection of torn, crumpled bills and dull pennies. In this economy, the paltry amount wouldn’t cover the cost of a single stick of gum.

But it would be a useful lure. Money was a powerful motivator for any poor, desperate sap.

He snatched up the cash and shoved it into his pocket, letting the mattress slam against the frame. But the dagger remained wedged inside, forcing him to brace his foot against the side of the bed as he yanked the stubborn blade out.

Finally, the knife yielded to his demands and came out of the mattress. He cursed and lost his balance, tumbling onto his back. His elbow smacked against the leg of his bedside table.

The booze and painkillers hadn’t kicked in yet, so it still felt like some asshole set his arm ablaze.

A picture frame that was perched precariously on the edge wobbled before falling onto his kneecap, as if he hadn’t dealt with enough insults to his injuries. He snatched up the frame with the intent of hurling it out the window, but a splash of color caught his eye before he could follow through.

Within the cracked glass, there was an old drawing of-

The frame slipped out of his hands and fell to the ground. A wave of dizziness overtook him, one that he couldn’t quite chalk up to the alcohol in his system.

He was hunched over the drawing, his hands and knees on the floor like a pathetic beggar, the heroic gaze of a duck clad in purple boring through him.

A forgotten memory resurfaced from a decade long past. He’d been at the peak of his career then, the brightest star in the night sky, one that was impossible to miss.

He saw a small, timid duckling with an awkward bill that was too large for his face. Who looked up to him with adoring, shining eyes, like he’d created the entire world from scratch.

A voice, tiny yet filled with powerful determination, proclaiming his life’s dream.

“When I’m bigger, I’m gonna be a hero just like you!”

The duckling became an adult. Young, bright-eyed, and hopelessly naive to the true nature of his chosen career path.

“We’ve had our arguments. I…I know I said things I regret. But I just want you to know, you were my inspiration growing up, Dad. That’s why I’m playing Darkwing now. I’m gonna show this new generation who Darkwing Duck really is, a beacon of hope in the darkness! If a kid falls on hard times, they can look to Darkwing Duck to help them stand up and keep fighting! So come work on the movie with me! Let’s inspire everyone, together!”

His son was nothing more than a filthy traitor, an awful impostor, a cunning thief who stole his entire life, identity, and legacy.

If that backstabber wanted to become a superhero so badly, so be it. But he would have to lose those ridiculous ideals and morals about inspiring people and helping them stand on their own.

Rage boiled in the pit of his stomach, his fingers tightening around the knife’s hilt.

If his son wanted to be a bleeding heart and help people so badly, then why couldn’t he have started with his own father?

His knife ripped through Darkwing Duck, destroying his image forever.

End AN: This AU is still a tragedy for the relationship between Jim Starling and Drake Mallard. But while Drake eventually becomes a hero and adds LP and Gosalyn to his family, Jim can’t see past the end of his own beak and still becomes Negaduck in the end.

Drake had a fallout with Jim in his late high school/college years because Jim wasn’t taking care of himself and couldn’t let go of his glory years as Darkwing Duck. Jim started drinking to cope and shut out any attempts to help from Drake and his old coworkers. Jim also developed health issues later on, partially because of his unhealthy lifestyle and because of the injuries he accumulated during the original run of DWD. That said, Drake still loves his dad and wants to reconcile with him, but Jim keeps ignoring him.

As much as I love The Duck Knight Returns, one nitpick I have with the episode is that the main characters don’t find out about the movie until the day the episode takes place, and Boorswan states that the production is almost finished. I can believe that Darkwing First Darkness most likely ran on extremely tight budget constraints and didn’t have a lot in the way of promotional materials and advertising due to Scrooge McDuck being the head executive. But with Launchpad being the DWD superfan, I believe that if there were any news at all of Darkwing getting its own reboot movie, he’d be following all updates on the movie religiously and talking everyone’s ears off about it.

I can excuse Jim Starling for not finding out about the movie straight away. In this AU, Drake tried to tell him about being scouted and his plans to audition for DWD, but Starling wouldn’t listen and later accused Drake of hiding all this info from him. Throughout the movie’s production, Drake tried to contact Starling and update him about happenings on the set, advice on his stunts, and sometimes just wanting to know how he’s doing, but Starling never picked up the phone and didn’t speak to Drake until LP brought him to the studio to watch the filming of the climax.

#ducktales 2017 #jim starling #drake mallard #son of darkwing au #darkwing duck fanfiction #tw alcohol #tw implied substance abuse #warning for profanity

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twin-chains · 2 months

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It’s my birthday so here’s a random modern au loz idea I had at 2am:

Broke college student Link and his best friend pet cat Zelda

Zelda would be a golden British shorthair, very elegant yet mischievous when she wants to be, a pampered little cat

Link’s parents died when he was young so he went to live with his grandmother Impa from whom he got the cat in the first place. Him and Zelda have been inseparable since

He’s not based on any one game and his friends are all characters from different Zelda games

Impa is his paternal grandmother and Zelda’s original caretaker as I mentioned. She was probably some sort of martial artist in her younger days but has long since retired. Maybe she managed to pass down a little knowledge to Link?

Navi is his childhood babysitter, Link always found her annoying and nagging whenever she tried to help him. But he learned to appreciate her help only after she moved away

Ravio is an unlikely friend of his who likes to tinker with stuff and works part-time at a pawn shop downtown. He has a pet rabbit and bird

Fiala "Fi" Kovarova is his know-it-all RA who helped him navigate the strange new world of university life during his first year. She'd probably be either a history or anthropology major with an interest in swords and blacksmithing. She's surprisingly best friends with the weird theatre major Ghira

Link longs for his adventure and excitement in his monotonous life but has been stuck in his hometown forever. I think it’d be funny if Link was isekai-ed into Hyrule with his cat and just went through one of the game adventures. I’m going for Dorothy and Toto vibes tbh

Edit:

You know what, screw romance. Marin is actually gonna be Link’s little sister. She loves to sing, even off key, and always seems to get along with animals. He loved her so much. When they were young, their parents took them on a summer vacation to a place called Koholint island resort. Marin was kidnapped there and has been missing for years, it haunts him to this day.

Because of this, Link latches onto Zelda as a sort of “replacement” for Marin almost: a smaller person/animal he has to take care of and vows to protect with his life. Losing Zelda would be like losing Marin again, he’d be all alone.

#loz #legend of zelda #modern au #zelda au #loz au #I probably won’t do anything with this but oh well #fic ideas #can you tell Fi is the most realized #I just think she’s neat #planning on figuring out last names for everyone #based on their name origins #I’m thinking Link Yuumoto #kinda like a mix between a kanji for brave/courage and Miyamoto (Shigeru Miyamoto)

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themushroomofdeath · 10 months

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eliza x law - (multi-chapters, maybe?) part 1 just rotten fluffy, the man needs a break from time to time and his girlfriend loves when he opens up and nerds it out.

There’s something people around tend to forget, Trafalgar Law was a human being too.

As his long term partner, Eliza tends to have the privilege of spotting his moments of open ‘humanity’ more often than others. It’s subtle, the altering of masks between Law the captain, the surgeon, the cold aloof pirate, to just Law, the man. One could say he tends to forget about this side of him too - if not pushed in the right direction, like how she’d been trying to do those past years.

One routine they had, long before establishing a relationship, was for the man to come find her after the end of each service provided in the islands they went to. It was for security reasons, he’d say, but everyone in the ship could tell he didn’t really need to personally go meet her, any of the other crew mates could go instead. No one really tried to stop him, though, it was rare enough for their captain to leave his office, even more so for him to leave the ship, and unknown to them both, there was already a bet about a blooming relationship between captain and the new female doctor.

How could he not go to her, when she would smile so bright whenever their eyes met, grateful for the assistance, and happy to have someone to talk about the experiences lived that day, as he was as much a doctor as she was. If he had a fine dust of a blush over his cheekbones, it was certainly blamed on the weather’s heat or the exertion of the walk, not that she would ever point it out, though. She was just glad for his company.

And it was in one of those walks back to the Tang, when she caught a glimpse of inner self for the first time, with a hesitance in his pace caughting her attention, turning to see how transfixed he was gazing at an old pawn shop’s window. He found something of interest, she had thought then. It was a first sign of her attuned connection to him, one brushed aside as an observation skill by the time.

“Hmm, a pawn shop…?” Smiling openly back to him, she willed her tired body to wait a few more minutes before coming back home, as she couldn’t help wishing to indulge this little moment with her closed off friend. “Why don’t we go inside, those always have something interesting to find.” For a moment, she thought he would deny her request, clearly fighting with his mind about allowing her to catch him unguarded, but to her pleading expression and the actual desire to go inside, he nodded instead, motioning for her to go in first.

It was a small shop, a little dusty place with several shelves lining the walls with old collectibles and handicrafts, a glass table guarding fragile and ancient objects. She busied herself looking around, or pretended to, as she kept the man in her peripheral vision, interested in what could’ve caught his attention, enough for him to be embarrassed of showing openly. Nonchalant act didn’t hide how he beelined towards the glass table, side eyeing it in search of something, which didn’t seem to take him much time, because as soon as he found it, he leaned all this height over it to take a better look. Gotcha, she thought.

She reached him, as soon as the shop vendor came to attend to them too, a senior man smiling at the couple of youngsters, before drowning them in explication about the coin Law had his eyes on. So he liked collectible coins, and he was embarrassed about it. No, he was embarrassed to be seen as anything but the brave captain of the Heart Pirates, not used to letting people inside his inner walls, to be able to see the boy he had been and still was. But if anything, Eliza was nothing but determined to make him comfortable around her, as much as he accepted her into his crew.

“Oh! I never paid attention to the story of coins before, how ignorant of me to look past it? Do you like those, Law?” Taking a non judgemental posture, willing him to understand she was accepting of him, smiling at his wary expression. “I wouldn’t mind being educated on it, if you ever wish to talk about it.”

Distrustful as he was, he studied her for a single moment, before relaxing and shrugging, pretending to not be bothered by the prospect. “Sure, I can explain it to you.” But in truth, a warm hand had taken hold of his heart, never once having anyone so interested enough in his past-time, at least not enough to ask to dive into the depth of it, so openly offering to be part of his enthusiasm for something.

Fighting with his mind as he wished, he couldn’t help the small genuine smile to form at the corner of his lips, ready to open up about something so dear to him. That night, he added the new addition to his collection, while she listened to each one of his explanations, enamored by the fragile trust being built between them. It was the first of many.

#rage writes #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar law fluff #dividers by cafekitsune #eliza beaufoy

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monpalace · 1 year

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wars and wind. 900+ words. wars is a kleptomaniac. an unorganized wordvomit

"Don't touch that."

"What?"

"It's toxic. Don't touch it."

Wind pulls his hand away from the vines that climbed the side of the shack. He looks back at it with a tilted head, one of his ears falling with the change of position. "How d'you know? This' Vet's Hyrule, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Warriors confirms, crouching beside the sailor. He takes the stick he haphazardly poked the flora with previously, using it to separate the tangling leaves from each other. "I read it."

"In a book?"

Wind shoves Warriors away when he looks at him from the corner of his eye with a raised brow. "Y'know what I mean," he huffs, ignoring the scoff that leaves the man. He also ignores the way he fell onto his hip, almost kicking Wind down with him. "In one 'f those.. plant books, or was it just any ol' book?"

"I stole it."

A slip of the tongue.

"You steal?"

"Is that so shocking?"

There's a thoughtful pause from Wind. His nose scrunches as he thinks, eyes jumping from Warriors face to his hands before—

"Y'er too pretty to steal," he says, islander accent coming through strong. If he hadn't been exposed to it before, Warriors would've had trouble understanding it. "Now you bein' allowed to take it without payin'? That's more like you."

Warriors rolls his eyes while he pushes himself back to his feet. "Well," he starts while wiping his backside off, "I stole it. Now let's go; we've been separated from the others long enough. I don't want to push our luck."

"Wait!—" Wind struggles to stand when the pins and needles in his knees make themselves known. Though Warrior's pace was slow, his limp still left him trailing behind. "So— shit! Fuck! Ow!— So, d'you steal a lot? Like 'r last supply run?"

"No," Warriors is quick to answer. "Of course not."

Wind knows a liar when he sees one.

"Then how come you stole the book?"

"It never hurts to learn about your surroundings, and I didn't have the rupees to pay for it. Four borrowed my pouch and never gave it back."

Wind's brows furrow. "Then how'd ya' pay f'r our food back in the tavern this mornin'?"

There's an itch in Warriors' jaw that he scratches by moving it until it pops. He knows Wind is giving him that look he always has when he finds something new, but he tells himself it's just his nerves.

"You said it yourself," he answers after a few moments have passed. "I'm pretty."

With how little supplies they had between the two of them, Warriors knows how the ring with a gold band and shining ruby had gotten into the pocket of his slacks.

He plays with it in his pocket while he and Wind traverse the streets of this new town. They'd only been there half a day— long enough for them to both rest and gain their bearings.

His tongue finds its home running around the bumps in his cheek. He keeps his hand firm on the collar of Wind's shirt as he guides him through the crowded streets.

Another ring, a necklace, a red rupee, a hair tie, an earring.

Warriors' pockets were quick to fill.

"Stay around," he tells Wind with a tap against his neck. The sailor's giving him a squinted look at his avoidance of meeting eyes, trying to follow his line of sight but failing to do so over the crowd. "I'll only be a minute."

"Where're you goin'? The old man said not to split if we get separated."

"To see if I can get any word on the others or a portal. You should do the same."

Warriors is quick to leave Wind's side after that.

His feet lead him to the pawn shop even though his mind begs them to return the items to their rightful owners, but they were low on everything.

They were obviously in more need of the money than the previous owners.

Warriors presses a hand to his forehead when his thoughts start to wander. It was a mindset he'd like to claim he left behind when he joined the army, but he was an old dog and habits die hard.

He finds the shop, empties his bulging pockets, takes his rupees, buys a bag, and rushes to find Wind.

"You'd make a good pirate, y'know."

Warriors was never the best cook, but he knew how to make do with what they had.

He stops poking the rabbit meat that roasted over the open flame to look up at Wind with a bit tongue.

"I'm sorry?"

Wind untucks his chin from behind his knees and stares at Warriors with big, doe eyes that fill him with guilt. "You'd never be bett'r than me, but I'd let you be apart of my crew."

"Don't say that." Warriors’ eyes duck back to the rabbit when his heart feels too heavy to inhabit his body.

"Why not?" Wind splays himself out when the chill of the night starts to bite at his skin, pushing himself closer to the fire. There isn't the usual wisecrack lilt in his voice, instead filled with genuine curiosity. "I saw the way you kept stealing those—"

"You didn't," Warriors says with a thick swallow. There's a tremble in his arm that he knows Wind catches. "And you never will."

The wind goes stale and Warriors takes a steadying breath. He takes to rabbit off the fire when it's seconds away from becoming charred and doesn't mind the painful licks the flames give his fingers.

He wraps it up in a kerchief he couldn't bring himself to sell, rubbing the oil that seeps through on his palm when he hands it off to Wind.

"Be careful and rest well when you finish. I'll watch during the night."

Wind squints his eyes but takes the rabbit without argument.

#grim's scribbles #i hate this but wtv #i had a thought and i needed to write it before i forgot it #loz #lu #legend of zelda #linked universe #warriors #warriors lu #warriors linked universe #warriors loz #warriors legend of zelda #wind #wind lu #wind linked universe #wind loz #wind legend of zelda #legend of zelda hyrule warriors #legend of zelda wind waker

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prof-peach · 2 years

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Hi,

I'm making a dnd campaign with a pokemon module of 5e and wanted to use a bit edited version of Dotaku Island, Prof. Peach and the crew cause I like your headcannons and work nice with my idea of the inner workings of the Pokemon world.

Is it okay to use them?

It's a campaign with friends and we're not making any profit from it, but still wanted to ask cause now more than ever artist consent is important (even when nothing about this is goong online so normally people woukdn't ask, but I also wanted to say I've been a huge fan of your work for a long time so two birds with one stone ig).

Either way, thanks for showing your work to us here on tumblr and hope this ask isn't too weird :)

Haha sure go for it, I’m chill with non-profit use, and if you ever do post junk let me know so I can snoop.

Fun notes for anyone who may be inclined to do this: THESE DO NOT NEED TO BE USED NOR FOLLOWED, PICK AND CHOOSE IF YOU PREFER.

North is off limits, no exceptions. Being caught there will get you removed from the island on the first ship back to your original region. You will struggle to return here if found in the north. Patrols line the fences to make sure no one goes in, night and day.

Players will take damage if they try to touch peach in any way. Treat her as a high level monk/Druid, who 1000% will throw hands with u and your Pokemon given a good reason. Cold and distant to approach, pawns players off to other staff at any given opportunity. A hermit who will humour you if you can appeal to her better nature, or great desire to fight things. You may lose but it’s the trying that counts.

Wisdom saves (DC28) with Val if you try to touch her. Not only will you gain force damage if you succeed (half damage) or fail (full damage) to lay hands on her, but you’ll see horrifying illusions for a minute relating to loved ones. Frightened condition until a long rest, compelling you not to approach further. I cannot stress this enough. Penalise players for trying to touch her, peach will bluntly warn you once, after that you’re on your own.

Grey regularly hands out handy snacks that may help heal or buff teams. He is warm and open, a good person to approach for hints and tips. Notably found in his labs or out running errands, he’s always kind and gentle, unless that is you threaten his home or his loved ones in a severe way. He is scarier than peach when he’s pushed too hard.

Plenty of staff roam around to offer aid or information, ranging from gardeners, cleaners, shop staff, and specialist keepers who maintain the visitors sections.

A groomers, cafe, food stands, daycare, small fairground with rides and games, a hotel, lighthouse, port, greenhouses and of course multiple lab and practical spaces exist, amongst other interesting buildings.

The resident ranger can offer assistance but she is known to stay quite busy, and so getting her attention may prove difficult if it’s a trivial issue.

Adoption zones are the only approved areas to catch Pokemon, and even then it’s a process that requires a test and paperwork, so everyone involved is able to provide adequate care to the mons in question, and so they know any pre existing conditions.

The islands purpose is recovery, so human needs come in second. The Pokemon will always come first, a fact some visitors may have issue with. The staff will not care and continue to do their job without concern for this.

Year round events make the island busy and people are welcomed to join in with whatever’s going on, be it chilli cooking contests, fairs, pageants, board rental for the sweet ocean waves, or watching a migration pass by. There’s always something to do!

This is all optional, just have fun with it, and I hope your players enjoy! If they ask about it, redirect them to the blog so they can dive on into the content.

#prof.peach #ooc

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gypsypendragon · 10 months

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Pieces of the Heart

3: Cursed

She had been trapped here after her previous wielder had died to an illness of all things. Such a weak end; quite pathetic. Granted they had been running out of use to her as it was, so she hadnt been upset about the loss of a failing user. It had left her in quite a state, however; trapped on this pathetically quiet island. Despite a busy port town the island reeked of peace and she hated it. Trapped in the worst place she could be, and so far out of the way hardly any notable bodies ever passed through. The weapon shop she had come to call a resting ground, for far too long now, was small. She was the most unique thing in the store without even mentioning how powerful she was. Many times over the shop keeper had tried to pawn her off on anyone who looked even remotely rough around the edges, but she would not be wielded by just any ruffian who thought they would venture off to own the seas. Picky would have been a nice way of describing her, but even she was beginning to grow restless. This island was appalling for something as bloodthirsty as she was. After so many years trapped in the quiet, and calm, she was willing to take anyone with even a shred of violence above the normal body.

In fact that was who was currently standing over her right now. The shop owner was engaged in a bartering session with quite a large man. He was far larger than most who came to the port town, and she could sense at least a lust for violence in him. It was better than nothing; as long as she got out of this pathetic town. They seemed to be reaching terms of some kind, slowly, when the bell to the shop chimed. A young boy walked in, lanky and all limbs as if he hadnt grown into them yet. The two above her paid no mind to the boy who simply began to browse, but she was quite interested in this newcomer.

Even there at the back of the store on top of the counter she could feel it. The scent of blood rolled off the boy in sickening waves. It distorted the air of the store, smothering the pitiable aura of the two above her instantly. He reeked of violence; darkness; rage. She shook subtly against the inside of the saya; it had been so long since she’d sensed a presence this exciting. The boy wandered closer as he seemed to inspect the other swords along the wall with a critical eye, but as he grew closer she felt the truth hiding under everything else. An endless, drowning wave of bloodlust. He reeked of it; it was soaked into his aura, his bones, his soul. He wanted someone dead, she could easily feel it, and nothing would stop him. She could practically taste the tainted desire plaguing his mind, body, and soul. She decided instantly.

Above her the two she’d long forgotten about seemed to have come to a conclusion. Her would-be buyer reached for her, but she would not be sold to someone with such a minimal sense of violence. The moment she was pulled she bit at him; cutting his hands as deep as she possibly could. She wailed, viciously, sending the shopkeeper and would-be wielder into a shock as their subconscious recoiled at her silent screams. Released, she gracelessly toppled to the floor in the boy’s direction. While her wailing had all but attacked the two weaker bodies, it did nothing to him but catch the boy’s attention. Golden eyes, full of an unforgiving shadow, stared at her for a moment before reaching. The shopkeeper warned him quickly, called her cursed, called her dangerous, yet the boy continued as if he hadnt spoke. His hand wrapped around her and the full force of his true nature washed through her. She could feel the darkness, the tragedy, that haunted him. The rage that propelled him forward; the lust for that man’s blood that was his only reason for standing.

She wanted it.

Her cries stopped, releasing the two others from their subconscious terror, as she settled calmly in the boy’s hands. He tested her carefully, flexing slender, blood stained fingers around her hilt. She was light in his grip; easy to wield despite her size. He asked about her. He could feel it just as much as she did; she’d help him get what he wanted.

The shopkeeper seemed to hesitate, but he gave a significantly lower price than before. She knew he wanted her out of there as much as she wanted to go, and she’d never been so easily calmed by another before. The man from before became agitated at the lower price he’d given a child compared to his previous, but the boy accepted easily. Soon she was slung over his shoulder before settling against him as if she belonged there. Unwilling to let the insult slide, her would-be buyer confronted the boy, but she felt almost dizzy with excitement when the response was a pulse of warning filled with promised violence in those golden eyes.

She’d always been fond of the color of gold; it went so well with crimson...

Even a fool would have left the boy alone after a display such as the one he easily presented. Leaving the confines of the small, quiet weapon’s shop finally made her thirst for action right away. She slithered into his subconscious; whispering quiet requests nearly giddy with excitement. He’d smirked, as they walked the edge of the bustling streets of the portside market, and told her not yet. She felt exasperated, but quieted. He did not reek of such violence and blood for no reason.

As she’d met the others who would accompany the boy, and by association, her, she was underwhelmed. She’d expected others as dark as the one who now carried her, but was disappointed to find they were almost the opposite. One of the children, the taller they called Penguin, was appalling to her; little to no lust for blood ran through him. The other boy, Shachi or so, though he seemed he might be more willing was still no better. While they both radiated a knack for violence, they were not hungry for bloodshed like her boy. She almost missed the young mink with them completely; such a timid and submissive atmosphere was of no interest to her.

The older boy seemed to be wary of her presence, almost seeming against her coming aboard their ship, but he was overruled. Her boy was the leader it seemed; wonderful. She did get one useful thing out of that child though…

Law.

She stored his name carefully; what an interesting name.

As he’d told her it took a while before she was finally given what she wanted. Such a small crew meant they were viewed as easy prey, but Law held greater power. A devil fruit user only added to the strange and terrible things she got to do. Though she was not overly pleased when he used her alongside a few of his abilities, those she cut still alive and blood nowhere to be found, his lack of apprehension on spilling blood made up for it. Her favorite moments, however; were when the others became victims of injury. Law’s tactical apprehension vanished when his crew shed blood, and she relished in the violence he gave in response. The brutality of his vengeance against the cause was enamoring. He’d allow her to spill blood until it washed over deck sides, until her sheen was crimson instead of pale silver.

He’d devised a cruel plan as she sailed with him. 100 still beating hearts; how wonderfully vile. Ripped from their owners and given away against their will. The cadavers they created together in pursuit of the hearts filled her with nearly painful bliss. She tasted more blood at his side than she had in years; even growing close to the time she’d spent with her previous wielder.

Rival crews were fed to her without much thought; care given to her after each battle. Always on his shoulder she never allowed him far without her. Often some of his crew would inquire about her, but her dear boy would smirk and give vague answers. Admitting she was perhaps, attached to him, wouldnt have been hard. She asked for blood, constantly lingering in the back of his mind, and more often than not he’d provide it. Far more willing than even her previous had been; their blood soaked auras mix together hauntingly well.

Later she showed the growth of her power combined with his own on that snowy island when she’d tasted stronger blood of a marine. Wielded so meticulously, and given the chance to truly let her blade fly was exhilarating. She’d expected nothing less from her boy by now though. The part she liked the most though, was his obsession with the need to kill this man Doflamingo. The way it fed into his twisted thoughts day and night over the years. She fed off the way he thought about everything the man had done; the way it poured into his need for vengeance and his desire to kill. How it drove his actions in desperation letting her come out more and more.

Then came that island. Years and years he’d fed her what she wanted, and she’d helped him pave the way to what he wanted. The unfiltered rage that wormed into him swirled into her. The longer they remained there the more his violence grew; the more his lust for blood consumed him. She relished in the waves of darkness that washed across them both as he finally began what he was after.

She’d lost him at some point; separated in his mad dash to finish what had consumed him. It didnt matter though, not after so long. They were bound; she could feel it.

Careless violence; unchecked rage; unquenchable bloodlust.

The reckless, untamed violence Law wrought upon not only this man but himself in his sheer need to kill.

Oh she relished in it.

The aftermath, though, proved to confuse her. His insatiable lust for blood was dimmed. The raging violence that had driven them their entire time together was gone. She was, displeased, at the time. Law had been a goldmine in a pathetically predictable ocean of bodies, but now her dear, violent, tainted boy was… calm.

She had considered it; abandoning him.

But then his mind started to turn again.

Insanity.

That is what came to him not long after. She wondered if he was aware what a plan like that might mean; what he would have to do. Perhaps she could feed off of that just as much as she had his violence. His lust for the blood of another was gone, but she still felt his sadistic nature lurking ever present at the edge of his mind. He still saw red when his crew was injured, he would still easily shed blood of any other that didnt share his mark…

She considered him for a while; took account of the plans he still devised. He still reeks of blood; still stands on mountains of bodies; still is haunted by a rage even killing could never extinguish…

And she decides once again, like all those years ago, that her boy is still enough…

XX🐠🏴‍☠️XX

I've wanted to experiment with Kikoku for a while now. I love the idea of cursed partially-sentient objects. It's clear in OP that the cursed swrods have a will/mind of their own to some degree so I wanted to play around with our evil girl Kikoku.

damn it Oda give us more info on her. I want to know where she came from, how she got cursed, etc etc.

Anyhoo hope you enjoyed this one. More to come since I use these as breaks between drawing.

#writers on tumblr #heart pirates fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece #heart pirates one piece #heart pirates law #heart pirate penguin #heart pirates shachi #heart pirates bepo #one piece kikoku #kikoku #trafalgar law #Pieces of the Heart by KC

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muldxr · 9 months

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2023 Fic Masterpost

18 fics, 36k words, 10 fandoms. all of the fics i wrote during the year are linked under the cut to read and re-read!

honorable mentions ↓ most kudos: la petit mort most comments: for your eyes only author’s favorite: choke

📍 for your eyes only (9.3k, M, James Bond and 1D fusion. main fic post)

While on a dangerous mission, 007 reunites with an old flame.

📍 weak hands, sore feet (1.5k, T, hockey rpf)

Sore from a Game 7 loss, Carson and Will decide to shave their playoff beards together.

📍 collide (1.1k, T, ER 1994)

The IV - her first real IV - is almost in the patient's limp arm. Lucy stills her nervous hand to guide the needle in further towards the correct vein, notes the dip in the arm as she attempts to break it past the first layer of skin. It slips out, goes to the right.

📍 man down (777, M, 9-1-1)

Buck didn't see it coming.

He didn't see the cracks in the beams. Didn't use caution in where he stepped, didn't run away fast enough when the freeway came crumbling down and took him with it.

📍 pawns (1.7k, T, the x files)

“Decided to show up late this time, huh?” Mulder asks the man, bristling as he shoves his hands into his coat pockets.

📍 rescue me (3.1k, M, ER 1994)

A five-car pileup in the middle of winter means that County General is at capacity. A short-staffed hospital means that Kerry Weaver isn’t having a good day.

📍 outlast (841, T, survivor)

The humidity on the Fiji island gets to you, and you can't sleep.

📍 let faith oust fact (1.2k, M, the x files)

Big Blue attacks their boat. Instead of finding a rock, the agents nearly drown.

📍 sanguis (1k, M, buffy the vampire slayer)

Gasping, Buffy spins around quickly, raising her stake, and she doesn't even move an inch when the stake meets an undead body, too close to her.

📍 headlights on dark roads (3.4k, M, the west wing)

"You didn't save me a seat? Come on," she whines, hanging on the frame of the car as her shoulders slump, growing desperate to get away from Danny's curiosity.

Toby says, "Sorry. All full."

📍 dearly departed (1.7k, M, the leftovers)

Not too long after Laurie joins the Remnant, she shows up at Kevin's house.

📍 midnight oil (2.3k, T, west wing)

Donna's eyes traveled down to her hands, holding a steaming mug with the presidential seal on it. It was one of Josh's favorites despite it being widely available at the White House gift shop. "I was making you coffee." She squinted at him, speaking slowly. "You know, like you asked me to do five minutes ago. By the way, our coffeepot is a pain in the neck, and we really should-"

📍 choke (2.7k, E, shallow grave)

Juliet leaves Alex and David for dead. Little does she know...

📍 paper bag (1.1k, T, the x files)

Mulder and Scully travel for a case, and the airline loses Scully's bag.

📍 know your number (100, G, ER 1994)

Post-'Union Station,' Mark considers calling Susan.

📍 the oven was broken. (825, T, hrpf)

Matty and Will attempt to bake birthday cookies.

📍 la petit mort (1.6k, E, the x files)

Intimately aware of her mortality, she's asked you to prove your worth to her.

📍 the cold moon (1.3k, T, the x files)

Scully shifts when the moon is full, and Mulder follows. That's how it always is.

#my fic #multifandom fanfiction #half of these are already in the whumptober post but it feels right to put all the 2023 fics together 😇#fic masterpost #*

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redspottedsheep · 11 months

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Hi, I saw you are taking requests!

If you want to, could you write something (anything, short or long doesn't matter) of Wind and Four interacting? (Maybe they are the first ones to meet after they go through the portal and they are looking for the other, or something else, like literally anything)

I'm curious how you imagine their dynamic!

I took the idea of them being the first to meet and ran with it, also! this turned out much longer than initially planned, and its up on AO3 for easier reading. Just in case though I'll post it here with the link as well as on my pinned post. Enjoy!

Link to AO3: Of Sailors and Smiths (3794 words) by RedSpottedSheep

What was once a peaceful sailing day turned to rough seas and a rapidly greying sky. Link, of course, was no stranger to rough days at sea. More of his life had been spent on the water than on solid ground. At least that's what Grandma said. Link had no problems with that. The sea was a place he could find adventure and feel free, a place he cherished no matter the circumstances. Like now, fighting with his sail to stay on course against whipping winds while wrestling to get his baton out of the leather pouch on his belt.

Upon managing to grab the artefact, after no struggle at all thank you, and conducting the simple yet beautiful melody of Wind’s Requiem, the sail began to obey and kept him easily on course. Yet there wasn’t much to be done about the violent waters. Now Link’s goal for the day had changed. The current task at hand was to now get back to the shore of Outset Island in one piece. Link hadn’t had enough time to react before he was being pulled into..whatever that was. Hadn’t had enough time to turn away, to guard himself, dodge, anything. Now he was paying for that negligence in the form of falling straight onto the grassy forest floor in a wave of nausea, a splitting headache, and general disorientation. The day kept getting better it seemed.

Out of habit taught to him by now two years of combat experience, Link had managed to at least try and break his fall, throwing his shoulder in front of him to take the force, and using his arms to protect what he could of the rest of his body. Only after the dishevelled boy propped himself up and looked around did he realise he was no longer at sea. Nor washed ashore the rocks and sand of his tropical home island. No. He was in a forest with tall grass, trees, overgrowth and wildlife. Yep, that would make it a forest. Just as his shitty luck would have it. Taking in the rest of what had to be one of the weirdest situations Link had found himself in yet, he noticed that while he had been thrown into the woods, there was no trace of his boat anywhere in the immediate area, meaning either he’d been taken away from it entirely or it was off at sea most likely never to be recovered. In a flash of panic, Link shot to his feet, now aware of the absence of his baton, one of his most important items. A hasty search through his pouch yielded no results of course, he’d been holding the damned thing and now it was probably in the ocean with his likely sunken boat!

Becoming thoroughly frustrated, Link began to walk. In what direction, he hadn’t a clue, but the smoke rising in the distance probably had something to do with it. Smoke usually meant civilization right? Maybe. Or was it monsters? Link couldn’t find it in him to care. If it was a village, great, a monster camp, better. A chance to hit something and take out his building stress was much needed and appreciated in times like these.

The trees had now thinned, and Link could see rows of buildings and bustling streets of far more people than he could count, and of course far more than the population of his small homeland. Still, knowing that he wasn’t entirely alone was a good sign and a step forward for finding his baton and getting the hell out of there. Vendors and pawn shops had seemed the best place to start after stuffing his sword and shield into his seemingly bottomless pouch. Link had figured it best to not come as a threat while he was wandering among the vast crowds, not wanting to cause a panic. Being barely five feet tall was an inconvenience at best trying to navigate the crowd and see the different stalls set up. It took much longer than Link wanted it to, and he couldn’t help the impressive string of curses that tumbled out of his throat when he hadn’t seen his baton among any of the hundreds of wares being displayed. All that time searching and nothing to show for it. Up until that point, Link had avoided conversation with the shopkeepers or passersby, though now it seemed inevitable if he wanted to figure out where he was. ‘Here goes nothing,’ Link thought to himself as he walked up to the nearest vendor, a man in his middle ages selling a wonderful assortment of shit the hero of winds had never seen.

“Hey, where is this place?” Surrendering his pride in lieu of information seemed like a bad deal, but it was all Link had to go off of when the shopkeeper answered with nothing more than “Hyrule Town, Kid, your parents around anywhere?” Link should have anticipated this. Of course he would be taken as nothing more than a lost child. He could handle himself! Why did everyone assume he was helpless? A few frustrated breaths later, and Link had made his way to one of the various knights guarding what Link quickly identified as the path to what he figured was Hyrule castle, as different as it was. “I need to speak to Te-Zelda, let me through.” The armoured woman fixed him with an unimpressed gaze. “And who are you to demand an audience with the princess?” She asked, seemingly humouring him. For what, Link had no idea considering no part of the interaction indicated a joke. “Link, the Hero. Can I just get through? I really need to talk to Zelda.” Apparently, the mention of himself struck a nerve in the guard, and she tensed her sword grip. “What did you misunderstand about staying away until you get your head screwed on right? Changing your look and waltzing in here demanding to speak with the princess is an utterly stupid move. Now get out, hero, I should be throwing you behind bars for coming in here.”

The hero’s title being spat like an insult was just the beginning of the confusion Link felt. Why was the guard suddenly so hostile? Changing his look? Get his head on right? Was this guard crazy? She had to be mistaken. “Okay, okay! I’ll leave.” Link raised his hands in mock surrender, unable to help the sarcasm that dripped from the gesture. Any intention he had of leaving was now tossed aside. Link wasn’t leaving until he had answers. Sinking back into the masses proved to be an easy task, and while he did Link searched for someone else who seemed a good source. Eventually he found the keeper of one of the pawn shops he had looked at earlier, approaching the man with his most inconspicuous facade, which, admittedly, wasn't all that convincing. Still, though, the man turned his attention to Link expectantly. “Uhm..excuse me, what happened to the hero? Link? I wanted to hear more but my parents wouldn’t tell me..” Link was grateful for the first time to be on his own. If anyone knew who he was and heard this horrid act he’d never be able to live it down.

The shopkeeper only sighed with a shake of his head. “There’s good reason for that, boy. He may be the hero but af’er he came back, poor kid’s been off his rocker, never leavin’ that forge, always ramblin’ to himself, don’ go ‘round gettin too curious ‘bout him, for yer sake. Can't help but feel a lil’ sorry for the lad though..”

Trying his best to ignore the man’s infuriating way of speech, Link’s eyes widened as he spoke, from trying to keep up with all the new information and maintaining his ‘innocent little kid’ act. Now his main problem was trying to get more out of the man without prying.

“Woah.. so.. where is the forge? I wanna explore it!” Staying calm and not breaking what little character there was proved a challenge. Link, by his own nature, was expressive, and he was still barely any closer to figuring out what he’d done to these people. The shopkeeper leaned in close, his voice barely audible between the people busy with their own conversations. “Listen ‘ere, boy. Don’t you be goin’ down to that forge. Stay away from it unless you wanna get yerself killed. Take the east or west exits an’ go home.”

With a brisk nod and a dramatic shift in character as Link let his act be dropped, he turned to leave, not bothering to say anything more to the man who was clearly left stunned by the sudden change of demeanour.

Right, so all he had to do was whatever the pawnbroker told him not to. Now to find an exit to the South. He’d gotten stopped and berated in record time at the north exit, which he saw a familiar Hyrule Castle beyond. So south it was. As it turned out, though, actually finding anything in the marketplace was a challenge, though at least slowly shoving his way through the crowd gave him time to think.

So far, Link only knew that the people of this town thought he was batshit crazy, and a recluse, had something called a forge, and that he looked different even though his appearance hadn’t changed at all since he first set out two whole years ago. Somehow it managed to be useful and also do jackshit to help him make any sense of the situation. Perhaps if he found the forge he’d get answers.

Finally, he reached the exit and promptly noticed people rushing their children along and glancing warily out of the stone arch marking the entrance. Leaving, there was now nothing for him to go off of, simply a once frequently used dirt path being overtaken by plants and a towering stone chimney not far away.

Locating the forge was alarmingly easy, now Link stood knocking loudly on the wooden front door, then banging his fist on the metal side entrance upon receiving no answer. Well, surely a batshit crazy guy pretending to be him wouldn’t mind if he let himself in, right? Link applauded his sense of self preservation.

After a few minutes of struggling, Link was able to get the main door open, calling out to ensure he was truly alone before he continued making his way throughout the organised chaos that was the home. Of course, he'd closed and locked the door behind him, but that didn't stop him from spinning defensively at every slight sound, regardless of whether it was him or the persistent scampering he could hear up on the exposed rafters. Now there was nothing left for him to do but wait for who would likely be his demise to arrive. And take what he could of the shiny gems and shards of precious metal scattered everywhere.

“Red, get your stuff! We need to go!” Blue’s impatience was shining through this particular day. That's not to say the smith was upset at anything in particular, just- eccentric. Not that Vio could say anything about that, they all had their quirks and irregularities. Those differences made it difficult to stay merged for long, made them feel as though their head was splitting and their ears were ringing, and they were haphazardly stitched together. Well, perhaps putting it that way would seem dramatic.. After all they were perfectly capable of coming together as one, fully functional hylian.

“But that’s not exactly what the kingdom sees, is it?”

Green smiled, though it was bittersweet. Only now realising he’d been thinking aloud, Vio nodded absently, mentally making sure he had everything. Dagger, book, spare bookmark, pen, Four Sword, check. It seemed everyone was now ready to leave their second, tinier home.

Minish village had become to feel safer than their own home in South Hyrule Field, just a short walk away from the life they’d worked so hard for, only to be discarded by the very people they fought to save. It had become commonplace for them to shrink, split and lose the time catching up with the Minish. Splitting was a tricky thing, as Link, they were fine working together- hours and days of teamwork practice had ensured that- but no matter how close of a team they could be, disputes and feuds seemed unavoidable at any given time. Like now, when Blue and Green had an impressively stupid argument about something neither Vio nor Red could figure out?

“It's getting late; let’s just merge and go, we still have a few things to do at the forge when we get back,” Green reasoned.

He was met with an unimpressed Red. “Why can’t we just stay split? I like being able to see you guys rather than just hearing everyone!”

“Because last time someone saw us split we almost had a mob at our door.”

Blue butted in, already leading the way with Vio toward the clearing they used for splitting and shrinking during the numerous visits to the woods. Now merged as one and with the usual headache, Link returned to his natural size. Instinctively the colours settled into their usual places, Green at the forefront, everyone else also at the forefront, all of them ready to jump in for input if the need came, Which it often did, even without other people around. It took all of them to be Link, and that was something they wouldn’t try and change if they could.

“What all do we need to get done at home?” “We have to finish that spare practice sword, our old one is worn down too much to be worth fixing” “I liked the old one” “We also need to fix that buckle on our shield, when it broke i'm not sure though” “Don't forget about the frayed embroidery on Green’s side of our shirt” Link mumbled aloud as he made his way through the all too familiar path through the forest back to the forge. It was something they didn’t realise he did unless someone pointed it out, whether it be one of him or someone externally. Granted talking to someone other than himself had become a rarity after their second quest. Apparently magically becoming four and having lasting effects made for a bad reputation. Though, they did get enough interaction between Zelda’s letters -she couldn't be seen with them any more unless it was for hero things- and the minish. Grandpa Smith’s health had been declining, putting it generously, he rarely visited and could only write when he could gather the strength.

Link was fine on their own, because they weren’t on their own. They stayed accompanied by themselves, and poured everything they had into their work.

Link pushed his straight hair away from his face with his now signature headband, and looked down at their tunic to inspect the intricate golden design stitched into the green quadrant. Blue had been right, the thread began to lift and now looked noticeably messier than he remembered. That would have to be getting fixed today before it drove Blue up the wall. This was the third time they’d put the repair at the bottom of their list of priorities.

While walking his usual path through the undergrowth, a small silver glint caught the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection, Link picked up what looked to be a conductor’s wand, though this item in particular felt foreign, and it was clearly imbued with magic, unlike any Link had felt before. Though who would leave such an item discarded in the woods? Very few ventured this far away from the town and fewer still had ever even been exposed to magic, much less any of this calibre. It was something to look into more later, and Link carefully wrapped the item in a spare cloth before placing it into his pouch.

Returning the Four Sword to its place across his back as he walked out of the forest, Link continued west to the forge. Though a small, disquieted feeling followed him, urging his body forward in a steady haste. Something felt amiss, and Link’s feeling was validated when he saw light coming from inside the familiar dwelling despite the late hour. Another good sign was probably the loud clang of metal being dropped to the ground followed by a less than quiet string of curses. Whoever had broken in had to be either inexperienced or careless, things that didn't usually favour stealth.

With a small grumble, Link readied his sword and one of the many concealed daggers they carried. It wouldn’t be difficult to arm oneself in a weapons forge, so he figured his best bet was to be ready to clean crimson off the wall. One fed up sigh later and Link took hold of the newly crooked doorknob and pushed the door open, stepping toward what was his first and final straw for the day.

It didn’t take long for Link to find the intruder, a mere child by the looks of him. Round, expressive features telling of his age paired with blonde curls, blue eyes and skin tanned by blaring sun. Those same features spun around to face him as soon as the forge door was opened. Before the child could reach for his own sword’s hilt, the Four Sword was already pointed at the boy, dangerously close to his chest. The windswept boy raised his hands in surrender, showing the soot he’d accumulated from no doubt snooping through the smith’s tools.

“You have about a minute to explain what you’re doing here; what are your intentions?” Link growled, ignoring the voice inside telling him to lower the sword he was pointing at the kid.

“Are you Link?” He asked carefully, lowering his hands to his sides and trying not to show his blatant shock both at the situation and the person standing in front of him. He looked around his own age if not younger if height was the basis. “Who’s asking?” the smith asked suspiciously.

“I came here to see if you could help me, I’m Link.” Blue eyes subtly widened; “Help? Don’t play games with me, you broke into my house and rummaged through my supplies! That's not how you ask for help!”

“I'm not playing games! I got pulled through a purple mass at sea and ended up here. I don't know how to get back home and when I asked around the town everyone started talking about me..you? saying how the hero went insane or something!” For a moment the sailor could swear he’d seen the colours in the other boy’s eyes swirl a multitude of shades before settling on a violet hue. The sword pointed at his chest slowly lowered and he was met with curious interest.

“The sea you say? There are no harbours anywhere near here. Hyrule is far inland..” The sword returned to rest on the smith’s back and Link let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Follow me and we can talk about this in the house.” With unexpected speed the smith turned and without waiting left the forge, the sailor hurrying behind him. In the main room, the two settled across from one another at a small table.

“To answer your question earlier,” the smith began, “yes, I am Link, and I’m Hyrule's hero. Now tell me, where exactly have you come from?”

“Me too, I’m called the Hero of the Winds, I live on Outset Island in the Great Sea. I was sailing when a storm hit and I was tossed into a gateway of some kind. I got thrown around some and ended up in the woods. I lost my boat and something of great importance to me, so I asked around the town and now I'm here.”

“Great Sea? I don't think such a thing exists. Perhaps it has something to do with the gateway you mentioned.. Though I’ve never heard of a Hero of Winds, there are tales of a hero before me, however, the Hero of the Skies. He was said to be an incarnation of the hero long before current times.”

“Incarnation huh? So.. I'm a hero..after you? So you mean to say that gateway took me into the past?!” The sailor questioned, scrambling to make sense of the new information. “It’s unlikely, but magic does exist, so not impossible. Still, it’s strange. We may need to get Zelda involved, I’m worried this may be the work of Vaati, or worse.”

“Vaati?- Wait, did you say Zelda? How would she be here? She didn’t go through the gateway with me.” The sailor questioned. “You have a Zelda too? Could it be possible that- nevermind, This time has a Princess Zelda as well, though I doubt they are one in the same. She may be able to make sense of this. As for the item you mentioned, what exactly was it if I may ask?”

“A baton, it’s an artefact I use given to me by my mentor. I can control the wind with it, I need to find it before anything else but the town didn't have anything even close to it.”

The smith raised an eyebrow, silently digging through his bag and retrieving the wand he’d found on the forest floor, unravelling the cloth and setting it on the table. “Could this be it? I found it on the ground walking home.” When the Hero of Winds stared wide eyed at it, Link second guessed for a moment until the item was snatched with a cry of relief. “I thought it was lost at sea! I can’t believe you found it, I looked for hours in the town and it was in that forest the whole time! A small smile graced the smithy’s face before it morphed into a worried frown. “The gateway magic is worrying, what you described sounded to me like dark magic, we need to get to the castle and inform Zelda.” Settling back into the conversation, Link nodded. “Though, I thought the people here hated you? When I asked to see Zelda I almost got arrested.”

With a darkened expression, the Minish Hero shook his head. “My last quest had some..lasting effects. The townspeople are simple minded and untrusting. Zelda was there though, she tried to get them to understand but they wouldn’t budge on the matter. We’ll have to go through my father to get into the castle with his escort.” Both heroes stood, readying themselves. As they prepared to leave for the castle, the smith turned suddenly and deadpanned, “Before we go, put back all of the materials you pocketed.”

#linked universe four #linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #lu wind #lu fic #faroreskiss #thank you for the ask!#i love requests tbh :)

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macadoodlewrites · 2 years

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Dangerous Love - Part Sixteen (Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader)

Summary: Avery Routledge is John B's cousin, and she has just moved to the OBX - just in time for a treasure hunt. But with John B keeping secrets in order to protect her, he pushes her into the arms of the Kook King. She becomes tangled with none other than Rafe Cameron, but will she realise how damaged he is before it is too late, or will he ruin her before she can get away?

Warnings: death, smut, dub-con, non-con, toxic behaviour, abuse, kidnapping

Ships: Rafe Cameron x OC, minor!JJ x OC

Main Masterlist

Dangerous Love Masterlist

Word Count: 2.6k

I ran down the long dirt road, away from the Island Club and in the general direction of The Cut. As I ran, I yanked my phone out of my bag and dialled John B. Nothing. It went straight to his voicemail. So instead, I dialled JJ. He answered after two rings.

"Avi? Where the hell have you been?" He sounded angry.

"Long story, but it doesn't matter. Where are you all?"

"Another long story," JJ replied. "Have you spoken to John B? Where are you now?"

I finally stopped running, paused, and then spoke hesitantly. "No, only you, and I'm on Figure Eight. But heading towards home."

"I'll meet you. Send me your location."

As my phone was about to die - thanks to not being charged overnight - I pinged him my location before hanging up. JJ sounded so angry, and I wanted to know what could have possibly happened. Why had my friends broken into someone's house? They were only supposed to be melting down the gold and taking it to the pawn shop. How could have I missed so much in one morning?

JJ would find me and explain everything. And I would have to make up an excuse for not showing up this morning.

Starting to run again, I realised just how long it would take me to get from Figure Eight to The Cut, but what choice did I have?

As I moved, I was dimly aware of the town disappearing around me until I was entering the quieter part of the rich side of the island. And then I heard it. A motorbike approaching behind me, the sound I instantly associated with Rafe.

A bike swung around in front of me, cutting off my journey, so close that I nearly ran straight into the driver. I skidded to a halt, shoes digging into the sandy dirt.

Rafe flicked the visor of his helmet up, revealing harsh, cold, blue eyes. As he did so, I saw that the knuckles on his right hand were busted up, red marring the usual flawless skin. "Hey, sweetheart. Where are you going?" I swallowed and took a step backwards as he slid off of his bike. "It's a shame that you ran off. You didn't get to finish your mimosa."

His fists were clenched at his sides, but his posture was relaxed, at ease - yet every part of my body told me that if I tried to dart around him, he would be ready to spring at me. Not that I needed to be scared.

This was Rafe. He wouldn't hurt me.

"I'm sorry. John B phoned and there's an emergency at home."

"And you didn't want to say goodbye?" He pulled his helmet off and placed it on his bike. "Or are you lying to me?"

"Rafe, I'm sorry but I really have to go."

The reminder of Rafe's conversation with Barry was still at the front of my mind - how he didn't defend his sister, how shifty the entire talk had sounded. Why did he owe Barry money? He was a Cameron, and as far as I knew, the Cameron's had more than enough money.

"Where do you have to go to so badly that you couldn't finish breakfast, Avery?"

"I told you, it's a family emergency," I retorted. Rafe closed the distance between us, and before I could stop him, his arm reached out and snatched itself around my waist.

"That's really interesting. Because we both know that the only family you have on this island is John B, and he happens to be causing trouble with my sister. So, I will ask again. Why are you lying?"

I tried to step backwards, but Rafe's grip was strong, encircling me like an iron chain. "Rafe, I'm not lying-"

"I know that you were listening to my conversation with Barry, even though I told you to sit down and eat your breakfast. You didn't need to eavesdrop, did you sweetheart?"

"I don't take orders from you, Rafe," I retaliated. "And fine, I was eavesdropping. But I heard him threaten your sister. And you didn't defend her."

Rafe sighed loudly, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Are you kidding me? That's why you ran off?" Irritation was prominent in his voice, and I wanted to run away from the tone.

"I would defend John B to the ends of the earth. Or any of my friends. And that includes Sarah."

His grip tightened so that I was pulled against his body, no room left between us. "Yeah, I know just how loyal you are to your friends. Infuriatingly so," he whispered. "You don't know enough about this island and how things work. Barry wouldn't touch Sarah. My dad would have his head, the police would be on him, and Barry would be behind bars. And he knows it. They were just words, and I wasn't going to rise to his level."

I stared up at him, eyes searching his face for any signs of dishonesty. I found none. I then looked down at his hand, taking it in my own and stared at the bruised skin. "Then what happened to your hand?"

"Barry threatened you," he replied bluntly. I looked back up at him as his eyes flashed malevolently.

"And I don't have a rich daddy to save me?"

"No one insults you, Avery. Not in front of me. Especially not some low-life like Barry. But he knew exactly what to say to get to me, so I had to show him just how far I would go to protect you," Rafe mumbled, his blue eyes focusing on my lips as he spoke.

"What did you do?"

"That's not important, sweetheart." Despite his words, there was no warmth in his voice. "What is important is what your little friends have been up to today."

Once again, I tried to move backwards, away from the cold fire in his eyes, the angry clench of his jaw, his intoxicating scent. "I don't know what they were doing."

He tutted, and I knew that I needed to leave. It was clear that somehow, Rafe knew more than I could have imagined.

"Do I look like an idiot to you, Avery?" I froze, staring up at him. "I can put two and two together. You had an alarm set this morning to meet your friends. You missed that, and since then, your friends have been getting themselves into trouble. So, tell me, what were the plans that were so important to you? So important that you accused me of sabotaging them?"

I pulled my body back again, and finally, he relented. His arm gave way, and I finally stepped back, putting some well needed distance between us. How could I have woken up next to him this morning feeling so happy, but now feel so wary around him? Rafe really was the master at eliciting all emotions from me.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I've only been with you this morning."

"And I want it to stay that way. I have Topper and Kelce out looking for my sister, and once they find her, I'm going to be having a chat with her about who she chooses to hang around with."

How intolerant could he be? I knew that he didn't like JJ, John B and the others, but how dare he act like all they were was trouble.

"You can't control other people, Rafe. Not even your sister."

"I'm not looking to control anyone, Avery. But I do know that those Pogues are no good. All they are going to do is drag you down with them and get you into trouble."

I'd had enough of his prejudice behaviour. Sending him one final glare and crossing my arms over my chest, I stepped around him and his bike, and started walking the way that I had originally been heading.

Screw Rafe Cameron.

"Avery!" he yelled. "Avery, do not walk away from me!"

I sped-walked away, not bothering to spare him a second glance. But I should have known better. Rafe was not someone that you walked away from - he was a spoilt, rich kid who was used to getting his own way. And he had gotten me, despite every instinct of mine to stay away. And now that we had slept together and admitted that we loved each other, I was beginning to realise just what that meant.

For one, it meant not to walk away from him when we were arguing. But I couldn't let him talk poorly about my friends. And I didn't need him investigating further into my friends' activities. He was getting too close to the truth and the gold had to remain a secret.

Rafe's hand closed around my wrist and tugged me back, far harsher than he ever had before.

"Do not walk away from me, sweetheart. We are having a conversation."

"No, Rafe. You are acting like an asshole and insulting my friends. You do not get a say in who I spend my time with, and what I do with that time."

"I should think after last night that I get a say, Avery. Or did that mean nothing to you."

His grip was tight, painfully so and I tried to tug my wrist away. I grabbed his arm with my free hand and tried to pull him away from me, but instead his bruised hand came up and encircled my other wrist. Both of my hands were now useless, shackled by Rafe’s strong grip.

"Rafe, please stop-"

"What have your friends been up to today? Why so secretive?"

I glared up at him, refusing to speak.

"I live with Sarah and John B and see how they sneak around. And I spend time with you. You are a bad liar. Now, I would really appreciate a little honesty from you. What are you all up to?"

It sounded like a test, as if he already knew the answer but needed for me to say it. The last time he had asked, I had thrown JJ in his face. But things were different now. Rafe and I had grown infinitely closer since that day.

But I still couldn't tell him the truth. The gold was not just my secret.

"There's nothing to say, Rafe. You don't need to know what my friends and I get up to."

He tugged me forwards, leaning his face dangerously close to mine. "If it involves you, then it concerns me."

"You don't own me, Rafe. You sound crazy."

He scoffed, his fingers digging into the bones of my wrists. "Ownership is going a little far, Avery. But I do love you. And I will do anything for you. Even protecting you from your chaotic friends."

"Let me go, Rafe. I don't want to talk about this-"

"I'm not letting you go."

The amount of meaning that he was placing behind those words was ridiculous.

"Rafe, I think that we're done here-"

"We're not done until I say that we are done."

"Rafe-"

Focusing only on Rafe, I hadn't heard the sound of a dirt bike approaching, but as it pulled up next to us, I finally snapped out of my Rafe-trance.

"What the hell is going on here?"

It was JJ. I stared at him, and then back to Rafe.

Both boys' faces were full of hatred - but Rafe's scared me. I stepped back away from him, but he didn't let me go. I watched as JJ looked between both of us before focusing on Rafe's hold on me.

"Let her go, Rafe," he all but growled, stepping off his dirt bike. He wasn't wearing a helmet.

Rafe sighed, continuing to glare at him. "Do you mind, Maybank? Avery and I are having a private conversation."

Looking at me, JJ's lips tightened. "Avery doesn't look like a very willing participant. Let her go."

"She is more than willing to spend time with me. Don't be jealous. The ladies hate jealousy."

I could have laughed at Rafe's comment. Rafe was more jealous than most men, especially when it came to JJ. But I said nothing. I didn't want this situation to worsen - as it was, things were bad.

"I won't say it again, Rafe. Let her go. She wants to go home, don't you, Avery?"

Both boys looked at me, and I stared back, looking at one than the other. The only two boys that I had ever had feelings for were stood in front of me, animosity radiating off of both of them.

I exhaled shakily, before looking at Rafe. "I do need to get home, Rafe."

He stared back at me, eyes roaming my face. Finally, he released my wrists, his fingers sliding over my skin as the blood started flowing back to my hands again.

"I'll take you home."

"Not necessary," JJ interrupted. Now that Rafe was no longer holding me, JJ stepped towards us, clearly trying to wedge himself between me and Rafe. "You don't belong on The Cut."

"Rich coming from you," Rafe spat. "Considering how much time you and your friends spend on Figure Eight. Now, come on Avery. Let's go."

I stepped backwards, away from both of them. Rafe wanted me away from JJ, and wanted to take me home so that he could find out what plans I was hiding from him. And I wanted to tell him. I didn't want secrets between us. But there were some things that I couldn't say, no matter how much I wanted to.

And JJ. Sweet, kind, always-there-for-me JJ. I needed to know what had happened with the other Pogues this morning. And he couldn't tell me in front of Rafe.

Eyes flickering between them both, I watched as Rafe took in my uncertainty.

His face blanked. Emotionless. Terrifying.

"You know what, Avery? I will make this easy for you. Go with JJ."

I stared at him in disbelief, mouth open. "Rafe-"

"Go. With. Him."

JJ, blissfully unaware of everything that had happened between Rafe and I, stepped forwards and took my hand. "Let's go, Avi."

I looked down at where our hands were together, and then up to Rafe. He was already looking at us, at our hands. Despite how expressionless he was, I saw how he swallowed harshly, how something in his eyes dimmed.

"Rafe," I whispered, so quietly that no one should have heard it. But both boys snapped up to look at me. I only focused on Rafe, the boy that I was in love with. The boy who looked like I was betraying him.

And I knew Rafe well enough to know that he would not take a betrayal lying down.

"Come on, Avi," JJ tugged me, and I finally turned, stepping towards JJ's bike.

"Don't worry, Avery. Your secrets are safe with me."

"What are you on about, Rafe?" JJ spat, as all the blood drained from my face.

Rafe smiled nastily at him. "Nothing, Maybank." And then he glanced behind JJ, straight to me. "Words are just words, Avery.” My heart gave a pitiful thud. “And we'll always have last night."

Without another word, he turned, put his helmet on and rode away without glancing back at us. At me.

Twelve hours ago, I was led in bed with Rafe, telling him I loved him. And now, it sounded like he was taking it back. Words are just words. Did he really mean that, or was he only saying it to hurt me in retaliation for not choosing him? It was something that Rafe would do.

But no matter what, my feelings for him couldn't be destroyed just because he was being petty and malicious.

As Rafe drove away, he took a little piece of my heart with him.

And now I had to deal with JJ. JJ knew that I had slept with Rafe.

Things could only get better from here. Right?

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