#and with love? well. i have thoughts but they'd probably get me shot on sight so let's leave them for now

[peniscat]

re: your tags on the suffering post i think roman views getting ceo in the same way he views sex (and love) in that it’s safe to want it when he knows he can’t have it, and being faced with actually having it terrifies him. i think on a base level he understands that he needs to want without having, because actually getting what he wants (love, ceo, gerri, etc) will make him confront the fact that he still feels empty, which ur right would destroy him. it’s why he always self sabotages (dickpic moment is a prime example of destroying his shot both at ceo and with gerri in one go) before anything can become a real possibility. he wants to build the rocket and blow it up on the launchpad because he knows at his core he’ll never actually clear his dad’s gravitational field

you're so right anon. i feel like he also sort of wants things that would ultimately prove that he's normal and that there's nothing wrong with him, which makes for an interesting combination when you also consider how those things are unattainable to him and therefore "safe" to want. love in particular is so interesting when talking about roman. he yearns for the intimacy and connection, is unable to have that but still tries so hard to find it. the self-sabotaging ties to that quite nicely – for example we know that he cheats and isn't generally a very good partner either. i also think that roman's steadfast ignorance of his own issues isn't doing any good for him when his coping methods are terrible but that isn't really news. watching roman try to live his life is like watching someone drown. he's flailing for help and most people think he's just waving. some people notice and try to help him but he's just like "uhh i don't know if i feel comfortable with that".

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 6 : Liar, Liar

Plot: A surprise return makes y/n question her relationship with Kylian.

Word Count: 1902

A/N: In celebration of Kyky's birthday, here's an update xxx

Chapter 5 Masterlist

Y/n's phone began to buzz loudly on her desk; she sighed and rose from her desk, a small smile gracing her face at the sight of her brother's name. Taking the phone, she headed out of her office, deciding she was in need of some fresh air anyway.

"Hey, James." she smiled, answering the call.

"Hey, y/n. You busy?"

"I'm at work but I'm owed a break anyway. Speaking of, shouldn't you be working?"

"The kids are on lunch, so I thought I'd see my little sis' is doing."

Her brother, James, was a primary school teacher back in the UK. He was two years older than her and growing up, the pair had been incredibly close. Nowadays, they didn't get the chance to talk as much, between their two busy jobs and their entirely separate lives in different countries.

"I'm good."

"Still having a hard time at work?"

As she strolled down the corridor, she sighed, "Well, the lack of headlines says not. It's calmed down a little."

"Good, you deserve a rest."

"Well, I'll have time for a rest when the transfer window closes. Until then I'll just have to suck it up."

As she strolled past Luis' office, the coach's door swung open. James continued to chat, "With the wage you're on, they're not paying you to relax." he chuckled but y/n had stopped listening to a word he was saying. From Enrique's office, not only did the coach emerge but so did Kylian. Her heart stopped.

It had been two weeks since their evening togehter as well as two weeks since she'd seen him at all. By the time her alarm had gone off- 5am- he'd slipped out, every trace of him gone, save a large, white hoodie he'd left on her bathroom floor.

Sure, she'd enjoyed the night with him; he was handsome, and good in bed, and he'd held her in his arms as they fell asleep, and it'd made her feel safe and loved and... She didn't care that he'd left in the night or that he hadn't called after that. It had been a one night thing, they'd both known that. He was leaving PSG, so what was the harm?

It was just a goodbye fuck, knowing they'd probably never see each other again. An acceptance of their attractions and their urges, admitting them to one another before he faded into TV screens and perfume adverts. So why was he here now?

"James, I've gotta go, I'll call you later though, alright?"

She didn't wait for a response before she hung up.

"Y/n, just the woman I was looking for!" Enrique grinned.

She turned around, her eyes fixed on Luis, stringently avoiding acknowledging Kylian's presence. She forced a smile, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes, Kylian and I finalised his contract yesterday. Elizabeth is bringing a file containing the details over to you. I need you to draft a press release about his return ASAP."

She faltered, "Kylian's coming back?"

The footballer cleared, his throat, "Yes, I am."

She shot him a glare before looking back at Luis, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I am doing."

"Okay, but some advance notice would have been nice, given that it involves my department."

"Well, this is your advance notice, so I'd appreciate it if you'd have the statement drafted and sent over to me within the hour."

With that, Luis nodded firmly and marched off; Kylian's feet were glued to the ground beneath him and he gawped at her like a goldfish. Her scowl deepened and she hesitated momentarily, as though she was going to say something. Then she spun around, her hair whipping after her, and stormed off.

Two or three days had passed since Kylian had appeared at the training centre and y/n hadn't seen the man since. Much to her dismay, she'd had to schedule in and would have to attend a press conference regarding Kylian's reintegration, which she'd announced on social media earlier that day. Now, her chances of avoiding the man in question were significantly decreased.

Sporting black suit trousers and a long-sleeved bodysuit, she walked into the press conference room. She lingered at the back for a few seconds, arms folded over her chest, holding a stack of files tightly as she surveyed the room. Tens if not hundreds of journalists sat on the rows of chairs in front of her. There was a loud hum of chatter as expectant glances were cast at the panel in front of them.

She slipped back outside and headed for the room Luis waited in. As she stepped in, she was met by the sight of not only Luis but Kylian and his father.

She smiled tightly, "Good morning."

"Miss y/l/n, good to see you."

"Sorry, I'm late. I was just running a little behind schedule, but here are some cards for you to read from." she rushed over to Luis and handed him a stack of prewritten cards. She spun around to the player who watched her carefully, "Kylian." she spat, placing the cards in his hand.

Her skin brushed his, he was close enough that she could smell his unforgettable scent. His warm, soft skin on hers took her back to that night. All of a sudden, it was like his hands were all over her again, squeezing, exploring, rubbing. She could hear his voice, calling out her name, singing her praises. She could feel his hands on her tits as he pressed kisses up her neck, on her lips, her cheeks, anywhere he could. They were tangled in his soft sheets, her legs wrapped like a vice around his waist as he held her so easily, like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

"Y/n."

He'd cried out, chanting her name like a prayer. But no, he really was speaking now. He said her name, his thumb grazing her palm as she handed over the cards. He spoke quietly, almost whispering her name.

She cast him a fleeting, strange glance before turning back to Luis, "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and she headed out into the wilderness, where the pack of reporters were gathered. At the sight of the doors opening, they all began to clamour before seeing it was only y/n.

She stepped up to the panel and spoke into one of the microphones, "Bonjour à tous et merci d'être venus. Il y aura une section pour les questions à la fin. Et maintenant, Luis et Kylian."

Cameras began to flash as everyone turned to the door she'd emerged from. She stepped down from the raised panel and stood to the side of the room. As the footballer and his coach took their place before all of the cameras, Kylian's father came up beside her.

She glanced up at him and offered him a small, polite smile, before turning her gaze back to the press conference which was starting. Luis began speaking, though she didn't understand a word of his Spanish.

"So, you're the one who's been sabotaging my son's career?"

He was so nonchalant she wasn't even sure he'd spoken or if it was just a creation of her imagination. She glanced up at him but he just stared straight ahead.

Hesitantly, she replied, "Sorry?"

"You're the one who has been dragging my son's name through the mud?"

"Usually I go by y/n."

"Oh, I know. I've heard all about you, y/n."

"Right." she pursed her lips, "Well, it's all worked out just fine, hasn't it?" she shrugged, nodding her head in the direction of the press conference.

“Hmm, for you.”

She drew back, looking up at the much taller man, “What’s that supposed to mean? I gave him every chance to leave, you are aware that PR doesn’t encompass transfers or contracts. I just broadcast what I’m told.”

“Y/n, I know what is best for my sons and I won’t have anyone getting in the middle of that.”

She frowned, what the hell did that mean? Before she could question his ambiguous statement, there was a flurry of excited voices and her head snapped back to the conference at hand.

Kylian nodded to a journalist, who stood up, "Kylian, pourquoi avez-vous pris la décision de rester à Paris?" Kylian, why have you made the decision to stay in Paris?

"Paris est l'endroit où j'ai grandi. Je tiens à cette équipe, c'est ma famille et je veux le meilleur pour eux." Paris is where I grew up. I care about this team, they are my family and I want the very best for them.

"Mais vous allez devoir quitter cette équipe à un moment donné. Pourquoi pas maintenant?" But you are going to have to leave this team at some point. Why not now?

Maybe y/n was going insane but she swore Kylian glanced at her before he spoke. Surely not. He hadn't called her. He didn't care about her more than her body. Of course, he was probably just looking at his father. But she just felt his gaze deep within her, like the ground beneath her was shaking.

"Je n'ai pas l'impression d'avoir terminé mon travail ici et j'espère encore accomplir davantage" he paused before adding, "avec mon équipe." I don't feel like I have finished my work here and there is still more I hope to achieve... with my team.

A few more questions were asked before the conference ended and they returned to the room next door. Y/n began to regather her files, "That was good, guys." she declared, offering a half-hearted smile, "I hope this puts it all to bed once and for all."

She nodded firmly before starting for the door; she headed out into the quiet corridor and let out a breath she wasn't even aware she'd been holding. It was like stepping out into fresh air, just being out of a room with him. His presence made her sweat and forget how to breath or think or speak.

"Y/n!"

And she couldn't breath again, and the temperature was rising, and she almost tripped over her own feet at the sound of his voice.

She snapped around, "What?"

"Wait."

She blinked at him and when he said nothing more, frowned, "Well?"

"Are you upset with me?"

"Of course not." she spat, sarcasm thick on her tongue.

"What did I do?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave again, "Just forget it."

"Y/n!" he yelled. When her pace didn't falter, he chased after her, catching up easily. He caught her arm and a flush immediately raced across her cheeks at the contact, "Y/n! Stop! Is this because I didn't call you after that night?"

"Forget it." she annunciated, still marching on.

"No, not if you're just gonna ignore me!"

She laughed bitterly, "That's rich."

"So it is because I didn't call?"

She spun around so abruptly that he almost crashed into her. "No, it's because you told me you were leaving! I wouldn't have fucked you had I known we were still going to have to work together! I'm mad at you because you lied to me!"

He didn't have time to reply as a door behind them opened and they both swiftly fell silent. Luis and Wilifried both walked out into the corridor, too deep in friendly conversation to notice the heated moment between y/n and Kylian.

She raked her eyes up and down him then quickly disappeared.

Masterlist

[v3nusxsky]

Hello! 👋

Is it possible to request a lady lesso x f!reader who has also a cane and struggles to walk with it and she gets frustrated in front of lesso who just reassures her and helps her out? It can be romantic or motherly, whatever you prefer! 😊

☄️Have a good day/night/afternoon!!☄️

-🌙✨

My lovely moon, so lovely to hear from you, I hope this is okay for you,and that you have had a good day

Just a stupid stick

*Authors note~ I wanted to give this my best shot and thought I'd draw on my first experience with crutches to back up some of r frustrations*

Trigger warning~ walking stick, frustration? Hospitals

Prompt ~ see ask

Ever since the instant with Rafal, in which he had severely damaged the cartilage in your right leg. The operation had been pretty painless, probably due to the strong pain medication you were given. But knowing they'd only been able to save half the cartridge, that was the worst part. You knew your life would change somehow. Little did you know that would mean using a cane for a little while. They couldn't tell you how long it would take for you to recover enough to longer need it, or if the cane was for life. You lay in the bed dosed up on morphine crying for the old you that Rafal had taken.

Lady Lesso, your girlfriend of 6 months, was worried sick about you. So much so she made sure to visit as soon as classes ended for the day. She would stay as long as the hospital allowed her to, always making sure to soothe you to sleep before she had to leave. During your little breakdown over the news you'd just been given by the doctors over an hour ago. When she arrived she hadn't expected you to be in tears sobbing silently to yourself. "Little one? What's wrong my love? Are you in pain?" She murmured alerting you to her presence.

"No" you choked out through sobs. Unable to tell her anything else, you curled up the best you could without moving your injured leg. She quickly came up to lay in the bed with you, holding you as gently as she could with cooing words of reassurance and comfort, not quite understanding what was causing such a reaction from you yet absolutely hating the idea that something was bothering you this deeply and she was powerless to stop it.

The nurse popped her head around the door and noticed the addition of the fiery red head in the bed, very early one the staff had learned to just accept it as the well known Dean was not one to be messed with especially when it comes to you. So they often just smile and carry on with their job. She entered the room with a cane calling your name to grab your attention. You immediately stiffed and peaked round your girlfriend to see the cane. You sobbed more at the sight of it, finally making it real and that's when it all clicked for Lesso.

Her cane was one of the many things you loved about her, you made sure to tell her that all the time. But loving her and her cane was completely different than loving yourself with one. Lesso remembers the frustration and anger she felt when she was given a cane for the first time, even the embarrassment not that she would admit it. She had endured that alone but would make damn sure you wouldn't.

The nurse left the cane with Lesso, clearly not getting through to you so hopefully she would, instructions to encourage you to take a few steps with it due to needing to use the injured leg to adjust now the stitches were healing well. Lesso nodded in understanding remembering when it was her in that bed, with her knee absolutely murdering her, she decided to take it slow with you. First thing first was to stop those tears caressing those beautiful cheeks of yours.

It took some time but you finally calmed in her arms. She held you a while just waiting for a sigh you were ready to try and you gave her that with a simple kiss to her cheek and a whispered "help me love?" Instantly she was up and rounding the bed helping you shuffle to sit both legs gently placed over the side of the bed. You sat for a few minutes just processing what you were going to do, after all you hadn't walked in such a long time. Lesso's words of encouragement and love never stopped flowing as she handed you your cane and helped you up to stand.

The pain shot through your leg like a match meeting gasoline. You let out a pained whimper and honestly you saw your girlfriends heart shatter at the sound. She continued to stay calm and collect and encourage you to move one foot at a time. Truly you tried to, you really did but it was excruciating and the pain in your hand from shifting all your weight onto one side was overwhelming. After all it felt so unnatural. Lesso was watching you intently for any signs you would be doing someone irrational, luckily for you she knew you like the back of her hand so when you threw your cane in frustration she was straight there holding you up before you could even meet the ground. "Hush love it's okay I know it's frustrating and I know it hurts but you will get the hang of it. I know you will" she comforted while holding you up right effectively acting as a human cane.

You stayed like that calming down your unexpected anger, lesso then reached for your cane and simply kissed the handle before handing it to you. "I kissed it so now i want you to remember that every time you hold it it's filled with love from me, can you do that little one?" You nodded and smiled at the cute little gesture of love that was reserved for you and you only. You got brave and you took one step, then another until you reached the other side of the room. "I did it! I did it love, did you see?" You squealed, so proud of yourself that the adrenaline was masking the pain. "I did little one well done my darling. How's the leg? Shall we sit? Give it a rest love?" She fired questions so quickly it was hard to know what to answer first. But she'd seen you do it and that made you so proud. Although now she'd mentioned it, your leg was hurting you, you let out a pained whimper and a plead "please love." She instantly came to gather you in her arms and carry you to the bed, her cane only needed when her knee was flaring up, most the time it was just for the aesthetic. She placed you down gently and dropped a sweet kiss to your lips. "Well done my love I'm so poured of you. You'll be all good to come back soon love"

Word count~ 1174

[ddejavvu]

congratulations!!!!!!!

I would run to you - send me a trope and a character, and i’ll write about what it would be like! (ex. enemies to lovers with eddie munson)

love at first sight with sirius black? i’m thinking him immediately being infatuated with r, but whatever you write will be perfect <33 thank you and congratulations again!!! you deserve it!!!!

come celebrate 5.7k with me!

I would run to you - send me a trope and a character, and i’ll write about what it would be like! (ex. enemies to lovers with eddie munson)

thank you so much babycakes!! i loooved this one :') sirius loml <3

--

Sirius Black was not one to be distracted. He was laser focused on raising hell around Hogwarts, and he excelled at it too. Visiting Zonko's was a weekly occurrence for him, And visiting it right before winter break began was the highlight of his week.

He had taken his last exam only hours ago, probably bombed it, but it didn't matter. There was a new shipment of frog spawn soap in, and Sirius was going to give the Slytherin Prefects a sendoff they'd never forget when they showered before going home.

There was an unfamiliar person at the counter, turned away from them so he couldn't see their face. They looked somewhat young, though, and- were those hogwarts robes?

You turned before Sirius could get a better look at you from behind, the confused furrow in his brow lifting as his eyes widened.

"Hello," You greeted him cheerily, "Are you looking for anything behind the counter today?" You gestured to a glass case containing dungbombs and a few edible products, nothing exposed that people could set off in the store.

Suddenly, Sirius's voice had left him.

"No," He managed to stammer, "Just- just some frogspawn soap."

"Oh, the soap!" Your eyes lit up, and his heart did a strange cartwheel in his chest, "I've got some in the back."

You darted for the curtain behind you, and Sirius was left to catch his breath after the enchanting encounter. Since when did a student work at Zonko's? Since when did you attend Hogwarts? He was absolutely certain he'd have seen you before in the castle, you were hard to miss.

Before he could compose his thoughts, you came bursting out into the store again, "Here! Here," You set two bars of soap on the counter, "That's six galleons."

"For two?" He marveled at the low price.

"There's a special right now." You pointed to a display he hadn't seen, "Buy one get one!"

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say, his typical flirtatious eloquence having escaped him. He let his wallet speak for him, though, a fistful of galleons set on the counter with a clink.

You rang him up easily, and Sirius deduced that you had to have worked here for a while to be so proficient in the job.

"You.." He decides to voice his thoughts, "You're working here?"

"I am." You smiled kindly at him as you bagged up his soap, "My dad's the owner."

"Oh!" His eyebrows shot towards his hairline in surprise, his mouth slightly dry as he tried comprehending the wacky store owner's family life, "That's cool."

"Try waking up to dungbombs in your bed and then tell me it's cool." You quipped, a wry smile over your features.

"Well that.. doesn't sound as cool." He admitted, a sheepish laugh escaping him.

"You aren't planning to use this in the castle, are you?" You held his bag out of his reach, "Store policy states that the pranks must not be detrimental to the school's efficiency."

"Definitely not." Some of his wit seemed to have returned, a familiar cheeky smirk flitting over his lips, "The prefect's bathroom would be an awful place to put this."

"Oh," Your eyes flashed with delight, "Terrible. Simply rotten. What time would you say you're not unleashing a hoard of frogs on the higher-ups?"

"Not tomorrow morning at seven. Do not meet me in the dungeons."

"I won't." You promised, your teeth digging into your lip to bite back your growing grin as you hand over his bag, "Have a good day! I won't see you tomorrow."

"I won't see you tomorrow either," He called out over his shoulder, "Don't bring an extra bar!"

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

-2- Forest of Death

The echoes of screeching chirps increased in volume as more and more green birds were drawn to the forest cave. The sound was too intense for Makae, but Sam and Dawn were intrigued.

There must've been over 100 lime green parrots gathered like bats on the side of the shallow cave wall and while Makae went ahead with the tour guide to escape the shrill ear-shattering sound, Dawn and Sam lingered to take pictures of the many pretty birds.

"If you could have any power, what would it be?" Dawn smiled once she and Sam left the cave together. They'd danced with the same company for over a year, yet this was their first time kickin' it.

Sam appeared to be lost in thought. It probably had to do with her boyfriend. Dawn had heard they were on the rocks. "You always ask the most random questions." Sam's eyes rolled, but she smiled a little. "I don't know... I'd probably teleport or something... Since I'm always late."

Dawn smirked, her eyes focusing on the broad sky. She'd had the same answer prepared since the first grade when her teacher first asked. It was why she loved to dance. It was the closest she'd ever get to flying. "I've always wanted to fly."

"Well, you can have the window seat on the way back to New York. It makes me nauseous. I don't do heights."

Dawn laughed. She didn't consider Sam or Makae friends, but they were all mature and friendly enough to travel together without tempers flaring. Neither of them could say that about the others in the dance company.

Trekking through slippery mud, Dawn's peanut butter skin reddened and glistened with the dew of sweat and fresh rain. It was humid, hot, and muggy. Sweat dripped down her forehead and neck. Her fine coily hair was pulled back in a low bun and covered with a silk lined cap. Dark mud and damp brown dirt clung to her tall black rubber boots. Her long sleeve thin v-neck clung to her skin with obvious sweat stains on the pits. Even her leggings had gotten dirty. Sloshing through muddy water, she followed the petite male tour guide through plentiful tall trees spotting and taking photos of tiny, colorful creatures that were strangely beautiful and equally horrifying.

According to Semi, the tour guide, it was best to touch nothing. The creatures could be deadly as well as the foliage, and it was infinitely worse at sundown.

"Do not touch them or come in contact," he'd warned multiple times in English, although he barely spoke the language.

Neither Dawn, Sam, nor Makae could afford to be bitten or stung.

Though they'd ventured out into the woods on this tour for adventure, memories, and sights, they were in Birnin Zana to perform. They had a show the following day.

"Remind me again, whose nonsense idea was it to come all this way when we have a show tomorrow?" Makae stepped gingerly over a thick fallen tree branch sitting on the edge of the marked path. Checking with Semi first, she sat on it for a quick break. "We have to get back before it gets dark. God forbid we trip and need tetanus shots."

"Don't do that, don't be negative," Sam glared.

"How is that negative?"

Makae had suggested leaving three times already. It was annoying to Sam and Dawn.

"We all agreed this hike would be fun, and it was," Sam reminded Makae as she snapped a picture of a freaky and fuzzy orange and black tarantula the size of a chihuahua. It posed on a thick white human-sized web between two trees feeding on a small red bird that was wrapped.

"Don't get too close," Dawn warned, uneasy watching Sam flirt with disaster.

According to Semi, it was not only poisonous but could jump. He, too, warned her to stay at a safe distance.

It looked like the end of the marked trail, right before a shallow pond. Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, Dawn sat to take a sip of water from her backpack while eyeing Sam's back in concern. Sam was extremely close to that dog-sized poisonous tarantula.

"Reason 82 of why we should call it a day," Makae said dryly, rubbing sweat from her deep-complexioned skin. Her skin was like Turkish coffee.

"Makae, you should be used to this," Dawn recalled from an earlier conversation. "Weren't you born here in Birna Zara?" 

"... Just say Golden City." Makae shook her head. "I haven't been here since I was 9, and do you honestly think I would've been in this forest of death?"

Dawn sighed. "Well, we don't have much further now before we turn back, do we Semi?"

"No, this is the end," Semi answered.

"Seriously?" Dawn was disappointed. They hadn't scratched the surface of the infinite forest. Dawn wanted to continue. She was an explorer with a love for nature and a desire for adventure, and she wasn't tired. She walked ahead, noting that no one followed.

"TO INFINITY AND BEYOND," she shouted to the top of her lungs, the desire to run wild overtaking her.

"Stupid," Makae muttered. "Just like a gahdamn American. How far can we actually go?"

Semi looked a bit uneasy. His face was inexpressive, but Dawn, Sam, and Makae all had eyes to notice that it was the first time he'd appeared particularly nervous since the tour began.

"Oh, Semi," Makae smiled, picking up on the awkward change in the atmosphere. "They don't know the legends. They're American."

"What legends," Dawn asked, jumping at the sound of a loud crack. The sudden sound got everyone's immediate panic at once, followed by a thump, the sound of a splash, and the sound of men yelling in Xhosa.

"SHIT," Makae gasped as Semi began to yell back to communicate. That's when another thump sent Sam to her knees into the muddy water with a splash. It happened too fast. Dawn leaped in panic, kicking through water to get to her, dropping low.

"What's happening," Sam shuddered, eyes wide. She was bleeding heavily. 

"I don't know. I don't know!"

The sound of another thump alerted Dawn to the sight of three black men rushing in with big guns. She stumbled through the muddy water, trying her hardest to get Sam and herself out of dodge, but Makae was missing. Makae would've known where to go.

The men grabbed Semi, prodding him with the barrel of a gun and demanding answers as Sam fell and Dawn lifted her again from her knees, trembling.

"Oh my God," Sam gripped Dawn with wild eyes.

Dawn followed her stare to a body lying face down in the water. Makae.

"Oh my God," she echoed, moving faster. The armed men yelled behind them. Dawn looked back to see one charging her way through the pond with a machete.

Sam hopped faster, her injury nearly forgotten as she tried to run clinging to Dawn. Still, the man with the machete caught up. He snatched Sam's shirt and slung her backward to fall flat beneath the water. 

Dawn's heart pounded as he snatched her by the wrist, raising his machete and yelling. She covered her face, and instead of being slashed, she was pulled toward the other men who loaded her and Semi onto the back of their open jeep and tied their wrists with rope.

The men continued to talk amongst themselves, but Dawn couldn't understand a word, and every time Semi spoke, they would hit him in the head with the gun to silence him. What had she or him done to cause this? As far as Dawn knew, she was as good as dead.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @uzumaki-rebellion

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

This world's evil god sucks, I'LL SHOW YOU HOW IT'S DONE! (Chapter 4)

A Warhammer Fantasy Isekai

Chapter List

Varxus, Lena, and Mason make their way towards Dalery in hopes of finding something worthy to fight and train the pathetic warband.

Word Count: 4.0K Warnings: Descriptions of Violence, property alterations, and spending of money.

Chapter 4 -  COINS FOR THE COIN GOD!

The three continued on the well trodden path towards town. According to the map it was called Dalelry. Lena told him that it was small enough to have a town guard, but that was only going by what her father stated in the past. Varxus kept that in mind as he continued thinking. Varxus had said nothing else to Lena or Mason after they departed their group. It had been an awkward silence, with the two unsure of how to speak, let alone make eye contact. Varxus on the other hand enjoyed the silence as his thoughts gathered into a coherent plan. 

Depending on how big this town really was, he could bait an attack and let his men get a real taste for combat, other than fighting helpless villagers. Hopefully, there would be someone worthy of a challenge so his own skills would not deteriorate-

Immediately, Varxus stopped in his tracks as he raised a hand upward. He reached for his hammer, turning back and giving a single nod at Lena and Mason. The two of them stared at Varxus before leaning in to whisper.

"...What's he doing?" Lena quietly asked.

"I…I have no idea." Mason discreetly responded.

Varxus turned to them as he unsheathed his weapon, ready to give out an order before his concentration transformed into disbelief and anger.

"For the love of-! Prepare for battle you bumbling morons!" Varxus almost shouted.

The two hastily unsheathed their weapons, Mason raising a sword and shield as Lena awkwardly gripped her short sword. Varxus heard a tree branch snap from behind him, and spun around with one hand clenching his hammer's grip and the one free glowing with magic.

"Show yourselves! I am in no mood to suffer interruptions!" Varxus shouted out defiantly.

Lena and Mason nervously glanced at each other before realising the shadows in the trees moved. Multiple hooded figures emerged from them, surrounding them at all sides with bows and arrows aiming at their heads. Varxus stood his ground, staring down one of the soldiers who had nerves of steel to approach the three. Varxus raised an eyebrow upon seeing what he assumed was the commander. He had no visible weapon and didn't appear to be a magic user either. Whatever he was, Varxus remained on guard against it. A moment of laxity could condemn them all. Well, at least himself and Mason. Lena could probably pass as a hostage-

Upon realising what his thoughts were, he carefully glanced at Lena while making sure not to keep his eye off the commander. She was wearing filthy farmhand attire with several holes in them. Her boots were caked in dirt and the skin that was exposed had soot and old blood all over. She actually did look like a hostage. Maybe that’s why he and Mason weren’t shot on sight. 

While he was staring, both Lena and Mason were on the verge of panic, shocked by just how many soldiers were surrounding them as their heads frantically swivelled around. Varxus grumbled under his breath about how they'd piss themselves if they saw the creatures that could ambush them in his realm, but pushed that thought away. There were far more pressing matters than the state of their combat readiness.

Varxus and the commander stared each other down, neither of them saying anything. The intense silence was broken by Varxus, once again grumbling how he always had to start the conversation.

"What is stopping me from reducing your men to bloody paste?" Varxus spat out.

"Because you'd be dead in a heartbeat if you tried," the commander calmly replied.

Varxus laughed defiantly, confusing Lena and Mason while the commander still showed no change in expression. That was the best joke Varxus had heard in ages. If these fools had any notion of what he was capable of they would be running for the hills. That being said, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the commander's stoic nature. There weren't many that could look Varxus straight in the eye and not back down. Especially considering this world so far seemed less dangerous than his own. 

"As much as I would like to see you try, I don't have time for your lot. Stand aside."

"And let you bring servants of the Dark Lord to my town? I think not."

Varxus clenched his fist as he stepped forward, every soldier suddenly aiming right at his head.

"Make no mistake. These are MY warriors. Not slaves under that pathetic pretender. If I had come to raze your town, I would have come alone."

The commander looked at Lena, then back to Varxus.

"Then pray tell, are they your slaves? Because we have outlawed such barbaric practices."

Varxus scoffed and was about to say something before Lena interrupted.

"He…He actually saved me from the Dark Lord, sir."

Varxus felt annoyed that she was speaking out of turn, but he then noticed the commander's attitude was becoming slightly less hostile.

"Is that so?"

Varxus took a step back and let Lena lead the conversation. Fine, he hated mortal negotiations like these anyway.

"Yes sir. Pran would have been completely destroyed if it weren't for his intervention."

The soldiers around them began to glance at each other in disbelief. A man looking like Varxus saved a village? Mason stood beside her and chimed in.

"The remaining men and I have decided to pledge our allegiance to him. We're actually on our way to stop the Dark Lord."

The commander turned back to Varxus, eyeing his Soul-Splitter.

"Well, I have no doubt that you could've stopped the Dark Lord's forces. What I doubt is that you did it out of the goodness of your heart."

"You are correct in assuming so."

"Then what are you after?"

"Means to train my men and magical abilities. If this town cannot provide either, then you all are useless to me."

The commander looked at Lena again before turning to Varxus.

"We cannot provide magic, but you'll be able to find the former. But, under the condition you remain supervised during your stay."

Varxus clicked his tongue in annoyance. A Chosen following the orders of a mere mortal? Preposterous!...No, he was not Chosen anymore, not since he was forsaken. He did not have to abide by Chaos' draconian ways any longer, but it was still instinct to follow it. Those instincts had kept him alive throughout the duration of his vain service, but admittedly it did sometimes blind him. After all, if he didn’t decide to follow the cat girl, he would never have met Lena and the others. He still would have been completely alone, ignorant to this new world. And if he was too careless, then ignorance would be his downfall. Varxus sheathed his Soul-Splitter and pride, as much as it disgusted him to do so.

"If you are worried about your town coming to harm, we have better things to do than see another mundane village engulfed in flames. Regardless, I accept your conditions."

The commander stood for a moment before nodding and raising his hand downwards to the soldiers. Everyone sheathed their weapons, settling down the tension somewhat.

“Then we welcome you to Lindow. I am Commander Rhys of the town guard. And you lot are…?”

Lindow? Varxus grunted as soon as he heard the name. He was under the impression Lena was leading them to the city of Dalery. Perhaps the map was outdated, or this was the plans of some clever ruse. Varxus glanced at Lena but the idea quickly vanished. Everything about that town was quaint anyway, it’d make sense if she didn’t know the map was older than her. Facing back to Rhys, Varxus answered him.

“Varxus. Behind me is Lena and Mason.”

Rhys looked at the other two as he pulled out a small pouch from his pockets. He tossed it at Lena, to which she almost dropped the pouch upon catching it. His disposition appeared a bit gentler towards them.

“If you’re about to find yourselves in combat, I recommend visiting the tavern and smithy. You can’t fight looking like that.” Rhys told them as a dry smile grew.

Varxus crossed his arms, shaking his head.

“She’s lucky to even be wearing clothes on her back. The marauders I knew usually went in with a single loincloth and rusted weapons.”

Rhys turned around, waving a hand dismissively as some of the guards followed him, and some stood nearby the group.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re far more civilised than wherever you’re from, Varxus.”

Varxus moved to say something in retort, but stopped midway. Rhys wasn’t exactly wrong, but he could still shove that attitude up his arse. Instead he turned to Lena and Mason, who were eyeing the contents of the pouch with childlike wonder. Inside it was a countless amount of gold coins, and judging by Lena’s expression it was quite a respectable amount. Mason still wore a helmet, but even Varxus could tell he couldn’t look away. The guards surrounding them were taken aback by their reaction and didn’t know how to respond. Varxus shook his head silently and called out their names.

“Lena. Mason. Focus your attention back on our original goal.”

Both of them nodded and spoke simultaneously.

“Yes, milord!”

…

Following the guards had taken nearly three hours, but they finally approached the entrance of the town, with the trail to it being well defined as buildings made themselves visible with each step. Varxus had said nothing else throughout the journey. Lena and Mason had finally seemed to find common ground for conversation, both talking about the money for a good chunk of the journey. Varxus tuned in and out of their conversation given how long they were speaking. But he was able to pick up that Lena had never been given gold to buy anything, as her father usually went out to purchase things himself. Mason said he had seen gold before, but their group had never done anything with it since the Dark Lord didn’t care for it. Varxus somewhat understood that stance, since the forces of Chaos never needed money unless it was for bribing, which they had an abundance to use.

What he didn’t understand is why Rhys had given them it. He was correct in assuming Varxus was a threat, that was a given. But why present a former soldier of the Dark Lord, someone who should’ve been a bigger threat just by reputation, a gift? Lena at least could earn pity just from looks alone. Regardless of his thoughts, it at least boosted their morale. Varxus supposed he should be grateful it’ll be easier to keep this group in check since they aren’t constantly trying to gut each other for the favour of the Ruinous Powers.

As the three finally entered town, they did not escape the gaze of the people, who all stared at them in awe and terror. The presence of the soldiers and Rhys seemed to make sure the mere sight didn’t send them all into a fit of hysteria. Perhaps it was a good thing Varxus agreed to an escort, since he’d no doubt have smashed in the heads of the guards who’d inevitably confronted them. Rhys motioned everyone to stop and spoke to some of the hooded guards around him, giving orders as they departed. Using this chance, Varxus examined the town and found it closer to a smaller city than a dusty oversized village. The buildings appeared to be constructed out of brick with roads paved in stone. The people themselves all dressed in more refined clothes, but not anything to indicate Nobles were among their population. Even the town guard appeared as well equipped as Mason in terms of armour and weapons. And judging by the scars on some of their faces, they had seen their fair share of action.

“Tch, the Dark Lord would be lucky if his forces could even scratch the paint off their armour…” Varxus mumbled to himself. Coming here and waiting for an attack would have been a fools’ errand. They could clearly handle themselves, but what had they actually fought?

Rhys looked over to the guard on his left and began speaking. Varxus was too far to hear what they were saying, but he could safely presume it was about them. Now that Varxus was scrutinising every last detail, he now let Rhys’ appearance properly sink into his mind. Rhys wore armour similar to the town guard, which was a simple shiny steel chestplate, pauldrons, and leggings. The parts not covered with armour was cloth with reinforced black leather on the more vulnerable parts of the body. The guards all appeared to wear red cloth while Rhys had blue. Most notably of all, was the lack of anything superfluous. No feathers on the pauldron, decorative trimming, or even stripes on the cloth. His stature stood around six feet, and appeared to be in his thirties. His skin was a fair tan and he lacked any facial hair or scars, but his hair was slicked back and a snow white colour. 

“Hmph. Either I’ve underestimated his capabilities, or he’ll die as quickly as I imagine he will…” Varxus thought to himself. If Rhys was unintimidated by a warrior of Chaos, then he could only assume what the man has been through. 

Rhys and the guard walked over to the group, more addressing Lena and Mason rather than Varxus in the same relatively friendly cadence from before.

“We will keep an eye on you, but you are free to roam the shops. The smithy is down this right path here, and the tavern and other stores are to your left. When you are done getting situated, I will have a job for you at our headquarters. It’ll be the building with a red roof straight from here,” Rhys calmly explained. Mason and Lena seemed to hang on to every word, nodding in acknowledgement. The guards all seemed uneasy around Mason, but didn’t seem to hate him as much as Varxus assumed they would. Had the Dark Lord not attacked this town often? Or were his soldiers that rare to find across the land? He seemed to recall the cat father mentioning that the Elves and Dwarves had-

“As for you.” Rhys interrupted, seemingly knowing that Varxus was deep in his own thoughts. “Behave yourself. I do not want to hear about any incidents during your stay.”

“You will find me wanting in many areas, commander,” Varxus snapped. “But I am not a man who breaks his word. I will not break or flay any of these mortals here.”

Despite the tension in Varxus’s voice and the guards frowning in response, Rhys finally seemed to somewhat relent in his hostility.

“It would be appreciated,” Rhys dryly replied. “Now, I will not keep you any longer. Men, answer any questions they may have.”

“Yes sir!” The guards shouted as they saluted. There were three of them looking expectedly at Varxus as Rhys and several others left for the headquarters. Instead of saying anything, Varxus turned to Lena. She realised they were staring at her before she cleared her throat and stuttered. Finally, he wasn’t the one to start.

“U-Um…I’d like to go to the tavern.” Lena shyly spoke. The soldiers seemed to relax and pointed towards the tavern. Even though every other building in the town was made of stone, the tavern appeared quaint, constructed out of oak wood. Lena and Mason excitedly walked over, Varxus lagging behind as he crossed his arms.

Lena and Mason opened the doors to the tavern, only to be met with several groups staring at them. Or more specifically, Mason. Many of them immediately moved to grab their weapons before soldiers walked in after, calmly gesturing to the patrons to resume whatever they were doing. This seemed to settle down most of them, all glaring at Mason and then finally noticing Lena and her poor state. Although she was physically tired and looked well beaten, any indication of her well being was pushed to the side as she walked up to the counter with a smile.

Varxus on the other hand, tried to enter the tavern himself, but realised the door frame was far too small. He’d either have to crawl just to get in, and it’d be a coin toss if he could stand completely upright. Several of the patrons noticed this and couldn’t help but stare, but he ignored it as he internally debated how to get inside, meanwhile Lena and Mason were approached by a bearded barkeep, eyebrow raised at the whole affair. Looking at the soldiers then back to them, he shrugged.

“Well, it's not everyday we get an elf escorted by a servant of the Dark Lord himself. What can I get’cha, young madam?” He asked, failing to hide his bewildered amusement.

“Something sweet to drink, please. Oh, and some bread!” Lena then turned to Mason. “And you?”

“Same as her, please,” Mason politely replied.

“Hah! Now I can’t give ya honey ale, but I think I got some granatus under the counter. Just gimme a moment.”

Lena and Mason seemed relatively excited to try both, seemingly forgetting they could barely speak to one another only a few hours prior. When the barkeep returned, he simply nodded as he gave the two their requested meals. Mason took off his helmet and scarfed his bread down, along with Lena. Both of them devoured their food like wolves tearing apart its prey. 

“I take it the roads haven’t been kind to ya if you’re eating some bread like that!” The barkeep heartily remarked. Lena shook her head no before grabbing her mug with both hands and chugging it down. Mason did the same, bringing a smile to the barkeep.

“Ah! Thank you, sir!” Lena said, bowing her head. Due to her height, she actually hit the counter and recoiled, making the barkeep smile more.

“Careful now, don’t getcha yerself killed before you finish the food. So, if I may ask, what brings ya both here to Lindow?”

Before either of them could reply, a sudden loud crashing at the entrance caught everyone's attention, making some shout obscenities while most just froze in place. The outline of Varxus’s upper half was now smashed through the entrance of the tavern, bits of wood still falling off his armour. It’d be far more comical if it weren’t for the utter sense of dread he radiated from his armour alone, not to mention the actual magical and corrupting energies actually in it.

“...Your entrances need to accommodate bigger people,” Varxus blankly stated as he rolled his shoulders, paying no mind to the now very irritated guards and scared patrons. The barkeep just blinked in mild surprise as he looked at him, then to Lena and Mason. Clearly, he was with them. Varxus walking felt like stomping as it faintly shook the entire tavern with each step and stood behind Lena and Mason, noting how voraciously they were eating.

“Duly noted.” The barkeep finally spoke. “I’ll be sure to redo the entrances to fit bloody giants now that ya gave it a good rearranging.”

“As to your question, we came here to train. Your town commander recommended they fill themselves before departing.”

“Considering they look half starved, Rhys was probably right.”

“Hmph. They could’ve just eaten some of the soldiers back at town…”

“P-Pardon?”

“That was not addressed to you.” Varxus sighed. That’s what a lot of the marauders under his Lord’s command did to replenish themselves. It didn’t particularly bother him, but he did always question why they ate the people instead of the food from the village they had just purged of life. Varxus actually couldn’t recall the last time he needed to eat or drink. He hasn’t even slept ever since he became a lowly warrior, which was well over fifty years by now. When one finally donned the armour of Chaos, they gained sustenance by the destruction they wreaked, forgoing any of their physical needs…Now that he thought on it, that’s probably why his men were complaining. They had no such enhancements like he did upon becoming an elite. Things were suddenly making far more sense on why the Dark Lord’s forces were the way they are. Lena and Mason finally finished their food and looked far more alive. Before Varxus could note what Mason looked like, he put his helmet back on.

“Um, can we buy some more later?” Lena asked.

“Long as you got the coin, don’t see why not!” The Barkeeper smiled.

Lena opened her mouth as if to say ‘Oh!’, realising she had not paid yet. She reached for the pouch and looked at Mason, not knowing how much it cost.

“Now normally it costs ten coins, but since you two have brightened me day, I’ll just ask for five.”

Both of them looked at him in shock.

“A-Are you sure?” Mason asked with a slight tone of panic.

“Yes, lad. A little bread and juice ain’t gonna kill business. Now you should probably gear yourselves up. Can’t fight in rags, can ya?”

Lena and Mason nodded excitedly again, and left the tavern, one guard accompanying them as the other two stayed with Varxus. He turned to leave again before the barkeep’s tone suddenly shifted.

“And since you ruined the mood and my door, I expect to get paid back!”

“...Do I look like I carry gold?”

“You look like you’re compensating for something with that hammer!”

Varxus had no idea what that insinuated, but he also did not care enough to figure it out. Grunting, he left through his outline, grabbed a plank from the floor and slammed it over the hole, breaking through wood again but crudely covering the damage, while somehow causing even more.

A similar sequence of events played out at the smithy. Lena and Mason were met with strange looks but were quickly welcomed with their enthusiastic approach. As Varxus tried to make a similar entrance, he was quickly stopped by all three guards and was just told to wait outside. Luckily, the smithy had constructed armour for all races, including the smaller ones, which meant Lena could fit into some of them. The smithy felt somewhat at ease, people who admired his work watching as he explained the intricacies of each set and what’d be the best for her. But he was also watched by Varxus, who said nothing the entire time as his frame barely fit outside the window, silently glaring at him with arms crossed. It was as if the black-clad warrior was trying to kill him just by looking.

In reality, Varxus was just commenting in his head how all the armour inside was nothing compared to his own, or even just the standard Chaos warrior. Though, it explained yet another aspect of this world so far, no one seemed to enhance their gear magically, or even to the standard he was used to. The Empire of Man back in his realm had steel plates that could deflect blows from even himself, and that was just the standard human. Granted, that was more of an exception than the norm, given how most of the time he killed the bearer upon impact. But it said something of the craftsmanship if he sometimes could be bested by man-made steel. Regardless, Lena now looked battle ready as himself and Mason. She wore a small iron cuirass, complete with moderately sized shoulder pauldrons, elbow guards, and gauntlets. Her legs were covered by faulds and greaves fashioned the same way. Lastly, Lena was given a buckler, given how small she was, she'd be able to capitalise on her speed.

Understandably, far more money was used in the purchasing of equipment, and this left the pouch nearly empty with the exception of five pieces of gold. Lena and Mason looked at each other, eager to test it out before exiting the smithy and trying to look as serious as possible. Varxus nodded and turned to the soldiers, whom he was ignoring the entire time.

“Take us to your commander.”

To be continued in Chapter 5

[tflegendarium]

Hello! How are you?

If it doesn't bother you: how do you think your version of starscream would react (and think) in relation to his counterparts/other versions? And what about skyfire? Would he get along well with his g1 version?

Long day! I had to travel for work and training, so I'm pretty tired but this ask perked me up a little. First of all, absolutely no bother at all! I LOVE thinking about my AU and I love my Starscream.

She's delightful.

I'll go with the main ones I am familiar with.

G1 (Cartoon) - Legend!Starscream probably wouldn't have a terribly negative initial impression as they are superficially similar, but the second she heard, he got his Skyfire back and shot him it would be on sight.

She thinks he is young and reckless because he doesn't have a proper plan and support base yet. She did a successful coup and would be furiously brooding over his G1 silliness, wanting to slap him over the head and probably doing it in between yelling about the correct way to overthrow your leader.

IDW1 - These two would be so similar that they'd either get along fine or kill each other. She is generally saddened and therefore furious at her counterparts' experiences and especially his relationship with his Megatron (Legend!Megatron and Legend!Starscream get along fine). She would also be screaming in frustration at his ruling choices and war crimes. He had it! He had it all, and he could have maintained it but decided to go a step further.

She is very pro-murdering the Senate, though, and would be impressed by his scheming and plans even if her own were different. She would be able to clearly see how she could have made similar choices to his own and the breaking points in his relationship with those around him.

Armada - This is a child. That would be her first thought. I think they'd probably get along, and the most exciting thing in their relationship would be her attempt to murder Megatron.

Aligned - I think they'd circle each other like cats, and she'd be wary of him. She'd sympathize with the losses of his people and be frustrated by his treatment. She'd honestly probably try and recruit him because it is clear he is competent and would be a good leader, and wouldn't you know it she has plenty of room for him.

Cyberverse - At least one of her selves kept the loyalty of their Seekers but then he ruins it by making a Death Cult.

WFC - Little shit. He also gives off incredibly young G1 esque vibes so the relationship would be similar.

Earthspark - These two would get along, I think. She would be understanding of his issues and respect his ability to lead from the little we saw of him he'd likely be another recruitment attempt.

Legend!Skyfire is heavily based on G1 Skyfire, and the two of them would likely get along incredibly well. Legend!Skyfire is also a bit more of a Wife Guy though and while he understands the moral conundrum G1 Skyfire faced and respects his choices and the friendship breakup, he did chose to go with his Starscream when they reunited.

Legend!Starscream would probably make an assassination attempt (non-playful) on most Megatrons.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

CONGRATS ON 1.5K! I love your headcanons and your writing! This might be out of left field but do you think you could do 🦀👑 for Jessup/m!six and "I'm not afraid of you"

Oooooh, I love writing for new people! This was a treat to explore!

Thanks for the congrats, and I hope you enjoy! 😁

"What are you still doing here? Thought you'd head out after helping us..."

Jessup's shadow fell over the courier where he sat on rock, Benny's engraved lighter twiddling in his fingers.

Six didn't look up, only shrugged, looking lost.

Jessup sighed at the sight of him.

"Look, I wish I knew more, but... After Benny stabbed us in the back, he wasn't too keen on sticking around to explain it all."

He moved closer, sitting down next to the man he'd once tried to bury, as he ran one rough hand up to graze over his mohawk.

"I don't really know what to do." The courier finally spoke, "I don't have the money for one of the passports into New Vegas, I don't know what the hell I'd do when I actually caught Benny, either."

"I'd probably shoot him in the head myself. Return the favor, you know?"

Six laughed dryly at that, flicking the lighter on before flipping the lid over it once again, dousing the flame once more.

"Hey," Jessup spoke up again, his hands going to his pocket and pulling out a small parcel, "You gonna waste oil, least let me take advantage of it."

He held a cigarette to the lighter's little flame before Six could cap it this time.

"Here." He held it out, offering, and the courier smiled appreciatively as he took the fag from his hand. Jessup lit one for himself, then leaned back against the rock wall behind him, sighing pleasantly as they both rested in the shade.

Six flipped the lighter off and stashed it away as he leaned back and joined him.

"I could just shoot him... but then what?" The courier continued, "He's in his own damn casino, right? Surrounded by chairmen, and I'm just... well, I'm just me. No way I could take 'em all."

He took the first drag of his cigarette, coughing at the strength of it, but Jessup paid him no mind.

"Yeah... Suppose you already died once, huh? Probably not wanting to do it again so soon."

"Yeah." the courier chuckled, and Jessup felt a small surge of relief.

That had to be a touchy subject for the man, right? How Six could still stand to look at him, when it was likely his face was one of the last images he'd remember before bein' put 6 feet under... And then how he could show up here, how he could help them with all that NCR bullshit... Jessup didn't get it.

"Yeah, I think I've had my fill of being shot for awhile, I'll say that at least."

At that, Jessup couldn't help but laugh in return.

"Alright, well I'm glad that's decided... but still, then the question remains. What'r you gonna do now?"

Six turned to face him, and Jessup could now clearly see the bullet scars on his forehead. Still a darker color, one that indicated they'd only just healed over, really. He could see the bags under his eyes too, the signs of weeks of hardship and restless nights.

How the hell he'd survived all that, Jessup didn't have a clue. How he recovered, how he made it all the way here with nothing to his name, without a name at all, just stumblin' through the desert...

Must be some reason for him sticking around though. This boy's got something to do here still. Only thing is, he's gotta find out what.

"I don't know." The courier rasped, and his expression looked lost. "I'm just out here, I'm... I don't know what I'm doing. Who I am, or was, even. I just know... I've gotta find out why this all happened."

The man took another drag of Jessup's cigarette, holding back the cough this time, as he grew used to its potency.

"Do you think, maybe..." He continued, refusing to meet the Khan's gaze. "Maybe I could camp out here for awhile? At least here in the canyon I feel a little safe. I can rest up a bit, come up with a plan maybe..."

Jessup's dark eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

"You wanna stay here with us? W-with me?" The courier looked at him with confusion written in his expression, as though that idea of his was as normal as could be.

"Six," he continued, "after what I done, with Benny and you, I mean... I was the one that dug the hole, y'know? The one that snake tried to bury ya in. What'd you wanna stick around with me for?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Jessup." He looked him in the eye as he said it. "You were just doing a job, I know that. Just trying to make some caps, get by like the rest of us. I'm not gonna hold that against you."

"Well then..." He shook his head, but a small smile played at his dry lips, "You're better than most, I'd say."

Six smiled in return, a soft expression that made Jessup want to break down the walls of his hardened exterior and slap the man on the back.

"You may be kinda dumb though, trustin' a man who's job it once was to hunt ya down and kill ya." Six's smile wilted, and Jessup laughed heartily, "But still, you're better than most."

In the next moment, the Khan did just as he wanted to, his palm coming down just a touch too hard on the courier's back, before giving him a few affectionate pats.

"C'mon then." Jessup's hand left him as he stood. "Let's go and get you a spot to make camp."

[zinzinina]

Arise, Ascend

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!Reader Word Count: 3.5k Rating: Explicit 18+ Additional tags: Apparent abduction, description of injuries, mention of canon-typical violence, slow burn, eventual smut, age difference.

Series synopsis: They don't tell you much when they take you to Boba Fett's palace. Only that he needs a healer, and you happened to be the first one they'd found. You've heard his name whispered plenty of times, enough that you're prepared to hate him; fight him; hurt him if necessary, despite your fear. You're wrong.

AN: I posted this about a week ago on AO3 as I was undecided as to whether I wanted to crosspost to Tumblr. I’m still pretty undecided, but I loved this cute little header I made to match my theme and wanted to use it (lol) so if this series is something you’re interested in, please let me know if you’d like me to continue posting here or whether you’d rather just read on AO3. Oh and massive thanks to my lovely friends @jangofettswife and @bacarasbabe for their advice and help with getting my ideas sorted out for this one! x

main masterlist // series masterlist

-

Tatooine has never been a gentle place, but sometimes it is a beautiful one. You consider this as you watch the lowering suns blooming shadows over every roll in the landscape, bruise-deepening the pale slopes.

Your terror is contained in the beginning; stalking inside the boundaries of a half-formed plan. You’ll wait until the landspeeder slows at the top of the next rise and then throw yourself over the side, you think. It might hurt hitting the sand at these speeds, but it’s better than waiting to see wherever it is they’re taking you. And it’ll be dark enough soon that you should be able to disappear into a dip, hide out until morning and then begin the trek back to the last outpost. Just as long as they don’t have searchlights. Maybe it’s closer to a quarter-formed plan.

As though he’s somehow aware of the direction of your thoughts, the Abyssin glances over his shoulder, his arm stretched across the back of the seat.

“Nearly there,” he calls. It’s hard to pick out the tone of his words over the wind, and harder still to decipher any emotion from the huge single eye in the centre of his face, but his posture still seems infuriatingly calm. His Aqualish companion continues to ignore you, vertical chins tucked down out of the sting of your passage, manoeuvring the speeder beneath an arch of ancient tide-lined rock.

The one-eyed man had done all the talking when their boots first kicked sand across your doorstep. “Afternoon, sweetheart. You the healer girl?”

You’d startled up from your datapad; an ancient, slow-loading thing good only for reading your meagre handful of bookchips. Outside in the lengthening shade of the street, the squeals of your neighbours’ daughters had fallen silent. They’d been ducking in and out of your open doorway, hiding from one another and leaping out in fits of ecstatic glee as you’d bemusedly watched. The sudden quiet hadn’t been the thing to plunge cold dread into your stomach. Not was it the sight of the strangers’ blasters holstered comfortably at their sides. It had been the man’s voice. Warm, smooth, amiable. Nobody amiable comes through these parts with anything but bad intentions.

You’re trying not to think about the implications of this. Some member of their crew must be hurt, probably shot or beaten in some kind of brawl. It’s a waste of your time; they’re only going to open each other’s skin again as soon as you close them up. But then, quietly, the thought that perhaps it’s not someone in their crew you’re treating. Your imagination runs wild with the possibilities: maybe a prisoner, someone they’ve tortured and just don’t want dead yet.

The landspeeder crests the rise. It’s still too light to run. You’ll have to wait for the next dune. You shift in the seat, painfully conscious of the heavy blasters laying on the seat between the pair in front of you, well within easy reach. They haven’t bound your hands or feet. Stupid, really. Many of the bandits in these parts have grown complacent in recent years with nobody to couch them. Small factions of squabbling syndicates; trading and stealing each others’ spice and flesh and arms, incorrectly assuming the villagers caught in the middle present no threat to them.

It’s the same reason they hadn’t bothered searching you. The knife hidden in your pants is small, but it’s sharp.

Slowly, slowly, the sky bleeds out the last of the light. In the almost-dark, the domed silhouette you had first thought to be another mountain on the horizon draws nearer. It isn’t until the first stars appear that you realise how terribly you have misunderstood your situation.

-

-

-

Children on Tatooine grow up knowing all about the palace. Tired parents smacking small hands away from cooking pots chide and threaten: if you don’t behave, you’ll be taken away and fed to Jabba the Hutt.

As they grow older, they learn that this isn’t an entirely empty threat.

Your village had a tiny school once; a single room housed in a decrepit A-A4B repulsortruck that had been gutted for the purpose and decorated with flimsi drawings of sand skitters and funnel flowers. The softly-spoken Nikto teacher had a melodic accent and green skin tessellated with round scales, his face framed with fine, delicate horns. He used to teach with rhymes; even now, you find yourself occasionally humming the little melody he’d invented to remember the names of each of the planets in Hutt Space: Nimban, Kintan, Klatooine and Saki.

And then one night during the cool season: harsh voices in the street, red flashes of blaster fire, and the sound of that musical voice rendered harsh with desperation, bargaining, offering to pay double the bounty, anything. Everyone in the village had stood by their windows, watching silently, telling their children to keep out of sight.

The next morning, there had been a sombre gathering around the shared condenser filter in the village centre. What did the hunters look like? the adults had asked each other in hushed undertones. Did you see…? Was it…? Someone had whispered no, that they saw headdtails; lekku or montrals, maybe. No helmet. They’d nodded meaningfully at one another, murmuring their hope that maybe this hunter would be merciful. That the teacher had been lucky; he stood a chance. Nobody says what they’re thinking: at least it hadn’t been the worst of Jabba’s mercenaries. It hadn’t been Fett.

Most of the stories about the Hutts had always sounded like tall tales to you. It hadn’t seemed remotely plausible that anybody could own entire moons in the Mid Rim covered in jewels and spice, or that Jabba had his enemies frozen in carbonite to decorate the walls of the palace. You’d always figured they were exaggerated from teller to teller, designed to inspire enough fear to discourage any insurgency against the syndicate. And it hadn’t mattered, really. Your village was rarely the focus of any attention, too small and poor to invite raids, and too far out of the way to lure interesting visitors. You’d always preferred to take your excitement from your bookchips, and tune out whatever ludicrous stories your patients were telling, offering no more than a mild mhm at the most as you’d splinted ankles and peered into swollen throats.

Still, there had been no avoiding the infectious air of stunned relief in the village when the news came that Jabba had been killed. And not only Jabba: several of his worst monsters with him; both the kind kept chained beneath the palace, and the kind sent to collect the flesh to feed it from above. When time passed and there had been no sightings of the armoured hunter, more stories began to trickle out. Fett is gone, they said. Cut in half with a Jedi’s laser sword. No, shot with a poison dart. Disintegrated with his own rifle. He’d simply suffocated without his helmet one day; he was Kel Dor, didn’t you know? Whatever had happened, a brief, tentative peace had fallen over Tatooine.

It didn’t last long. Another had taken Jabba’s place. The reports of raids on outlying settlements grew more and more frequent as individual gangs ran unchecked. At least under Jabba, there had been order. Now, petty criminals deposed one another far too quickly for the locals to keep track of, chaos reigning. And, recent rumour has it, another has claimed the palace once more. It makes little difference to anybody living between the dunes.

From all the stories of the palace, you’d expected bones and chains. Instead, the hangar in which you arrive is clean and bright, filled with ships you never even imagined existed outside of holos; beautiful and expensive-looking Palliduvan cruisers shining with aurodium, and Gamorrean battlecraft bristling with blunt armaments. Loose grit squeaks on the stone beneath your feet as you’re ushered forward. There’s the distant murmur of rough voices under music drifting up from the bowels of the palace. The Aqualish man grunts, cutting his eyes away from your face before slouching off in the direction of the downward-slanting corridor. Automatically, you take a step to follow but a three-fingered hand around your elbow pulls you back.

“You’re staying with me, sweetheart. You don’t wanna see what’s happening down there, trust me.” You stare blankly up into that single eye, bulging horribly in his green face. There’s a faint, wry twist stretching the lines around his mouth, his long white sideburns pointing in opposite directions with the smile. Your feet still point awkwardly away from your body. Of the two, you’d much rather stay with the Aqualish. He’s shown nothing but absolute indifference toward you until this point. You trust it far more than this smile.

Nevertheless, you’re no fighter and you know better than to start trying now. You let him lead you in the opposite direction, climbing upward instead of down, the passage twisting as dark openings begin to bloom at shortening intervals. It grows quieter the higher you climb.

You crane your neck, trying to see around every corner you pass, but he hurries you along too quickly for you to make out much. An empty room, flickering in the lamplight. An empty passage leading downward into the dark. It feels strangely bare; as though only very recently cleared out. You catch a fleeting glimpse into a wide chamber filled with what look like mining crates before he’s urging you to hurry up the inclining hallway, winding higher and higher into the hard coldness of night-desert air. Your sweating palms prickle, your heart climbing further into your throat with every step.

When he finally stops, it’s in front of the largest door you’ve seen in the palace so far. Thick, ancient durasteel, bolted with bands to give the impression of absolute impermeability. There’s no access panel.

The Abyssin grunts, straining as he pulls the heavy thing open manually. It groans forward, revealing a sliver of the dimly lit room within.

“Wait here,” he instructs, half-pushing you inside, suddenly in too much of a hurry for joviality. The door booms shut behind you with a sense of finality, and you are alone.

You turn slowly. As far as dungeons go, you suppose it could be worse. The stone is the same pale shade as the dunes outside; glowing a faint warm gold under the lamplight. The walls curve gently, giving the impression of being inside the wedge of a dome. It’s furnished simply; a table carved from age-warped grey wood and a matching single chair.

There’s a stoneware pitcher sitting on the table and your tight throat clicks as you swallow, lurching toward it. Water. It’s filled with water; clean, pure, left uncovered from evaporation. The flagrant extravagance of this is not lost on you. You take a small sip, letting the cool liquid sit on your tongue for several indulgent seconds. It’s the sweetest, cleanest water you’ve ever tasted; none of the slightly-greasy mustiness brought on by several rounds through the vaporators. This has the faintest aftertaste of soft minerals, as though drawn from deep below the ground.

A litre of water this pure must’ve cost more than anyone in your village could ever afford, even if they saved up for an entire cycle. But you don’t hesitate to gulp down several more greedy mouthfuls before continuing your exploration.

The rest of the room is similarly understated. A low, wide bed draped in pale linens. Hangings in a similar shade framing an arch-shaped doorway. You can see the sky through it, glinting the thick deep blue of early evening. You’re drawn toward that openness before you’re conscious of moving; the breeze shifting the light fabric with a whisper as you stand just before the threshold of the balcony.

From here, the desert looks like a motionless sea. Bathed in the glow of this hemisphere’s waxing moon Chenini, everything is perfectly still. You’ve never seen a real sea, a water sea, like the kind on other planets. You’ve only read about them. But you can’t imagine they could be any more beautiful than this.

“That’s the best view in the palace.”

You almost break your ankle spinning so fast. You hadn’t heard anybody coming into the room behind you, but the heavy door stands open. And standing in front of it, just one step inside the room, a man.

You stare blankly at first, looking without seeing. Domed helmet, t-shaped visor. Dark green-painted armour. And then understanding roars in, a deafening white noise filling your ears.

What you’re seeing isn’t real. Boba Fett is dead. His bones should be bleached by now. You’re looking at a ghost. The thought of his name alone bounces hard against the inside of your skull, threatening to knock you out. Everything slips sideways for a second, before you realise you’ve forgotten to breathe and you suck in a short, gasping breath, your senses returning a moment later.

Control yourself, you silently scold yourself. You’re more practical than this. There are no ghosts. He’d just found a way to survive somehow, biding his time until he could come to claim the palace for his own. It shouldn’t even be a surprise, if he’s as untouchable as they say. This wouldn’t be the first time the rumour mill was mistaken. The strange, hysterical thought occurs to you that nobody in the village will believe this. If you ever make it back to your village. Maybe this would have been less terrifying if he were incorporeal. Your hands fly behind your back, feeling for the shape of the small paring knife in your pants.

He stands with his feet slightly apart. Every inch of his skin is obscured by the plates of metal, all the way up to that expressionless visor. The stories swapped by traders who claimed to have met someone who’d met someone who’d caught glimpses of him all said he was not a large man, though it made him no less capable as a fighter. And while he isn’t especially tall, he is broad; thick-limbed and solid beneath the metal, exuding strength.

You realise he’s waiting for you to say something. You’re afraid if you open your mouth, your heart will leap out. So you nod stiffly instead, your fingers clutching firm to the handle of your blade.

The helmet tilts slightly to one side, and you feel a cold creep of dread down your bare arms and legs. He doesn’t bargain, the stories say. Doesn’t listen to begging or threats. Cold-blooded, even among bounty hunters.

“Have you hurt someone?” you blurt suddenly.

There’s only a slight pause before he answers, his voice slow and harsh through the helmet. “Many people.”

So they say, you want to respond. Instead, you suck in another breath, your neck tense as you force your next words out in a single exhalation. “They said you needed a healer.”

He raises his hands to the helmet, and with a small click, lifts it over his head. You blink.

His features are severe; a hard-looking mouth pressed closed and turned down at the corners. Dark eyes, heavily lidded, gaze at you steadily from beneath frown lines etched permanently between straight brows. It’s impossible to read any flicker of emotion behind those eyes. But there’s an odd softness too; his high cheekbones are rounded and full, as are his lips. Beneath the harshness of his expression, his eyes are strangely warm-looking.

But you are unable to remain focused in one place for long as you take in the entirety of his face. Ropes of scar tissue twist across the length of his forehead; beginning at the back of his clean-shaven scalp and continuing all the way to the bridge of his broad nose. Another line curls over his ear, cutting through the softness of his cheek, continuing down his chin and disappearing beneath the black neckline of his clothing.

Your chest constricts at the thought of the pain he must have endured earning these scars. But they don’t look new; the skin healed shiny and tight. “I can’t do anything for old injuries. This should’ve been debrided when it was fresh; you could have supplanted it with synthskin.”

Those dark eyes glint at you, his voice wry. “I’m not worried about my face looking pretty.” There’s a private joke there, one you aren’t privy to, but you don’t smile.

“Then…?”

He takes a step forward, and you flinch, still grasping the blade behind your back.

He stops, taking in the tense way you’re standing, his gaze drifting across to the bed behind you. His frown deepens. “Ah. I thought it would be less frightening for you up here than down where I usually conduct business. I see I was wrong. I failed to consider how this would appear. You’re in no danger here. Nobody in this palace will lay a hand on you. You have my word.”

“I’m not frightened,” you shoot back quickly. You both hear the waver in your voice.

He doesn’t push it. “Nevertheless. I apologise. You are a guest, not a prisoner. If you wish to leave, Myo will return you home.”

“I’m…not a prisoner?” He shakes his head slightly, still watching you. “Then why am I here?”

By way of explanation, he lifts an arm, rotating from the shoulder to twist his hand around. “The damage is far worse at the places where I was not protected by my armour. My joints are stiff. I can’t move the way I need to anymore. Can’t fight the way I need to.”

You answer without thinking. “Yeah, that happens when you get old.”

You could cut your own tongue out. Horrified, you stare at him, your mouth open, like somehow that might usher the freed words back in so you could swallow them down. But his eyes crease at you, that hard mouth softening just the tiniest bit.

“Maybe. But the scars aren’t helping. I’ve heard something may be done to restore a measure of flexibility. You’d be paid well.”

He’s not wrong. If the scarring on his head is where he was covered, you can only imagine how bad his elbows and knees are. “What caused it?”

He gazes levelly back into your face, expression hard again. “Sarlacc acid.”

You’d probably laugh if anyone else had said it. It’s an outrageous claim; to have survived being enveloped fully by a sarlacc and live to walk away. He might as well have said he’d fallen into one of the twin Tatoos for all the survivability his story held. And you’d always believed that his notoriety was exaggerated in the tales you heard around the bar at the Anchorhead cantina. But now, in his presence…it’s far easier to believe that there really is something of the death-touched about Boba Fett.

“Healed burns can sometimes be softened,” you tell him slowly. “If the affected tissue is massaged frequently, it should break down the scar fibres and help with the stiffness. And you’ll still need to do your own stretches to regain the movement you’ve lost.��

“You know how to do it.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, but it is. He’s giving you the chance to say no, sorry, there’s nothing I can do for you. He’ll take you home, leaving you with the kind of story you know will only be half-believed at best. And anyway, you might not be able to help him. You can’t tell how old the injuries are, but you’d bet a couple of years at least. It could very well be too late. He’s still watching you stonily, waiting.

“You said I’d be paid well.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to pay me in water, so I can send it back to my village.”

Something flickers across his features faster than you can catch it; some tiny, unguarded twitch of surprise. But he’s smooth-faced again when he nods once. “Done. I imagine you didn’t have time to gather your things before leaving. You’re welcome to stay here tonight. I’ll have something brought up for you to eat. Myo will take you back in the morning to collect whatever you need.”

You exhale through your nose, feeling vaguely dizzy. You aren’t completely sure what you’ve just agreed to. He could kill you if you aren’t able to help him. Probably will, if even half of the stories are to be believed. But for some reason you’re still thinking about the way he’d lowered his voice when you’d flinched. As though he didn’t want you to be afraid.

“Thank…you.”

He nods again, furrowed brows inscrutable. He lifts the helmet, tilting his chin up as he fits it over his head. There’s a quiet snick as it clicks into place. “This door bolts from the inside only, if you feel it’s necessary. And you can keep that. I won’t ask you not to defend yourself if you need to, but I will ask you not to stab anybody without due cause.”

You gape, glancing down at yourself. At some point you’d grown too comfortable speaking with him, your knife held loosely at your side in full view. He doesn’t seem even fractionally concerned. If anything, there’s a slight inflection of amusement underneath the gravel of his voice.

Before you can think of an intelligent response, the quiet clink of his footsteps is receding down the stone corridor.

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[scorpionwins]

can i have #11 from the fluffy prompt thingy? hit me with whatever you have in mind <3

Ty so much bestie!! I've decided to go with Joaquin and Kevin because they'd be a very interesting ship in season 5 I think :>> hope you'll like it!!

Prompt: “Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

﹌♡﹌

Joaquin is alive and breathing and feels like he's dying, still.

Everyday feels like a cold blade's kiss pinching at his neck, a slow drawl, a cruel game of waiting, taunting, pulling at a noose up and down to feed burning lungs just to starve them again.

All because a boy. Man, now.

He looks at Kevin and Fangs, snuggled up, sickenely intimiate, sweet newly weds consumating eachother's presence like the tastestiest desert, and thinks, I didn't cheat death. The coffin just got bigger.

Traitor, he thinks, petty and venomous, watching the engagement ring glint on Fangs' finger. Right after a thunder of guilt strikes him, but not enough to smite his anger, not enough to take it back.

But this is Riverdale, the landmark of deception and blurry truth, where nothing is what it seems. Fathers can be murderers, holy children have devil horns, and snakes love like saints. A happy marriage isn't an exception.

Kevin was always big, he knew, intimately so, even disguised under baggy sweaters and jackets, but now he's not quite that shy. No one can really be, in uniform.

" How long has that been going on?"

Toni is slippery; Always was, always will be. They all are, in their own way, structured to escape tight spaces and narrow options. With bellies or not at all.

She sees through him, and he lets her. " Two years after Tom retired, " she refills his glass gracefully, not a drop outside the glass. " Town needed protection. Kevin stepped up. Heard he got a shot at Broadway but missed."

Of course. One fatal flaw of Kevin's, and the list is short, as far as Joaquin is concerned, is that he gives up too easily. Manipulated by his own insecurities, treating one failure as a lifetime of pain. But that's not what he asked.

Fangs steps away, joining Sweet Pea for a pool game, and Joaquin ignores his wave. Kevin is alone now, nursing on some whiskey, bothered by no one and no one bothering with him.

He sees a shot. He won't miss.

Years of friendship make your face a map for some people. Toni pauses, observes a wondering eye drinking in the sight of a wolf left unprotected. " You know, homewrecking isn't really your style. "

"Maybe not," Joaquin smirks, slaps cash on the counter, drink long abandoned. " But I'll crash the fuck out of an apartment. "

He's so damn beautiful.

A well groomed, trimmed beard frames Kevin's features nicely, texturing it with maturity and shattering handsomness he always carried, but saturating it so it's impossible to ignore.

He looks exactly like the movie stars Joaquin always thought were too good to be realistic. Well here he stands, eating shit by the spoonful.

" Joaquin." it sounds right, his name, coming from that man's mouth, as stiff as it is. He doubts Fangs notices the difference between cold politeness and clean affection, but not Joaquin. He learned Kevin too well.

" Sheriff Keller, " Joaquin invites himself next to him, leaning closer than he needs to, close enough to sweat under the heat pulsing past Kevin's body. " Busy night at the office?"

" I don't disclose information with civilians. Especially not ex cons. " Joaquin would get behind this gritty, no-nonsense, marble voiced stand off any other day, but not when it's aimed at him.

" Oh, right. Forgot you were the lawman of this place now. Would buying you a drink get me arrested? A long night of interrogation perhaps?"

" Of all the things you did and probably done, failing to buy someone a drink isn't one of them," Kevin's eyebrows can stay stiff all they want, but Joaquin doesn't miss the tug of lips. He's getting through him. " Of course, I assume you're familiar with handcuffs."

Well, shit. He's getting through me.

" Not your handcuffs."

" Give it some time. Knowing you, it won't be long. "

" I think your law just needs some loosening up."

" Law's harsh but it's the law, " no room for argument, confident, but serious enough that Joaquin's belly tightens with discomfort. " And while you're in my town you play by my rules. Follow that and we won't have a problem."

Then, he smiles, a nasty, close to cutting little thing. " I think it's pretty established I'm good on that. Does that apply for Fangs, or does he get privileges?"

Cold green eyes squint, distaste and surprise all in one blink, as if only now he remembered he had a ring on his finger. But that's all it was. A loop of gold, hollow and chintzy.

" Come on, " Joaquin is pleading in the open, pawing at the dog door, but he's already neck deep in whatever this is. Why not go down trying. Why not go down fighting. " I'll buy you dinner," then, suggestively, past the point of friendliness, too hot to be standoffish. " And maybe breakfast. "

He watches for a twitch, for a flinch, for any visual indication Kevin is at least considering it, but all he gets is a stare, a huff of amusement, and a glass pointed his way. " Have a good night, Mr. DeSantos."

Fuck Kevin Keller, Joaquin decides. Fuck him and his hot as hell hat tipping goodbye system.

" I'm gonna marry that guy, man." He tells the bartender, unimpressed by all this, rolling hazel eyes dramatically.

" Go for it. Everyone in this town is already so goddam weird."

[boxofbadaddiction]

Crazy Bitch

Song Inspired

George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Swearing.

Note: First full smut piece. So the writing's pretty bad.

[Y/N] was always known to have a hot temper, and for being quick to the draw when it came to hexes or defensive charms, against anyone who poked her in the wrong way. At face value she was the perfect example of a Slytherin. Dangerously ambitious and just a stone cold bitch. Though not many people got the chance to find out that was far from the truth. She had built very high, very strong walls around herself from a young age to keep herself from ever being hurt and as such developed a rather fierce reputation. Given which meant there weren't many people daring enough to cross her.

Of course the Weasley Twins, however, weren't like other people. They saw her as a direct challenge on their mischief making abilities. At least they did in the beginning. I mean...a Slytherin with a reputation of being untouchable? They're just begging to be pranked. But now, the boys tended to avoid pranking her after learning the hard way that her idea of payback was not an equally elaborate prank or perhaps a stern lecture but more rather...painful.

On two separate occasions Fred had found himself, stunned, flying backwards through the air. George was a tad more fortunate but still had a fair share of hexes thrown his way. Safe to say they definitely learnt their lesson. After 5 failed attempts, which landed themselves some rather ugly bruises, they agreed the hassle just wasn't worth it and gave [Y/N] quite a wide birth where they could.

George recalled the last prank they had played on [Y/N]. One which left her with bright maroon hair. [Y/N] confronted the laughing boys that day and had let her wand do most of the talking for her. She had began by shouting at them to get some steam off her chest.

"Oi, mind the accusations [Y/L/N], what makes you think it was us?" Fred asked incredulously.

"Because no one else in this school is stupid enough to pull a prank on me. I thought we'd settled this boys. Don't. Provoke me."

Fred let out a haughty laugh as if to challenge the angry Witch infront of him.

"Dunno, you look well enough provoked to me. Never thought I'd see the day someone would have brighter hair than us, eh Georgie" he elbowed his brothers arm playfully as they both began to laugh.

[Y/N]s hand twitched toward her wand and it was enough for George to know the time for jokes was over and that things were indeed about to get very messy. He cleared his throat before speaking, "it was just a joke [Y/N/N], it'll wear off in an hour or so...hopefully"

The look she shot him at his words were enough for him to back down, bowing his head slightly. He knew better than his brother who, had evidently, opted to poke the bear that bit further.

"Come off it, won't ya? If you ask me it's an improvement" he jested, flicking her hair slightly with his hand.

Bad idea. [Y/N]s wand was drawn and, before anyone could register what happened, Fred was promptly flying down the length of the corridor. Georges eyes followed his brother, drawing his own wand and raising it as he turned back to the furious slytherin in front of him.

"Expelliarmus!" she bellowed and Georges wand flew into her grasp.

She began advancing on him slowly, his own wand raised at his chest as she starred directly into his eyes. George backed up, soon finding himself pressed firmly against the castle wall. She walked toward him until their chests were just about flush. His wand stabbing into him, not enough to hurt but enough for it to sting, and he knew there'd definitely be a mark left when this was over. He flattened his head to the wall as she slid the wand up slowly till it was pointed into the crook of his neck. George swallowed thickly and cast his eyes down to meet hers. She was smiling, wickedly, he would never admit it but this was sort of a really big turn on. A gorgeous and confident Witch putting him in his place? To George there was nothing hotter. His mind got lost as his eyes searched her face and slowly ventured down her neck, then to the slight cleavage protruding from her blouse, visible only due to his great height advantage. He swallowed again as he watched her chest heaving lightly while she drew slow, long breaths to steady her heartbeat. It wasn't till she spoke he realised just how long he hadn't been paying attention to the dull stab on his throat.

"I'm warning you. Prank me again and I promise you..." she paused as she moved his wand swiftly down from his throat so it was prodding directly into his groin, he gave a small grunt and pushed his head back with tightly closed lips to try avoid the not so gentle pain she just inflicted, her eyes never left his face as she continued to speak.

"You'll lose more than just your wand next time. Are we clear?" She gave a quick glance down and smiled back at him sweetly. He nodded repeatedly. Forcing the wand slightly harder into his crotch she spoke again "I said. Are we clear!?"

Grunting George spoke fast "Yep. Yes, absolutely, painfully clear."

Retracting the wand from it's owners flesh she smiled and whispered "good."

With that she stepped back from him, George let out a hard breath he had been holding. She raised her arm to his eye level and dropped the wand she'd disarmed in front of him. He fumbled over air for a moment in an attempt to catch it. He turned to see her striding past Fred as he returned rubbing the back of his head and lower back with a confused and hurt look.

"What's the deal? I get flown half way cross the castle but you just about get wanked off?" His brother chuckled "What'd she say?" They both watched as she disappeared round the far corner at the end of the hall.

"She threatened to take off my balls if we prank her again." Fred laughed at this

"Well, Georgie boy, there's worse ways to go. At least she's hot." He shrugged and clapped his brothers back as he began to walk the opposite direction to where [Y/N] had strided away. George mumbled a faint "mmm" in response, his eyes still cast after her as he rubbed the place on his neck where his wand had been jabbed. After a few long seconds and a call from his twin he finally turned to leave.

Things didn't get better from that point on. Although the boys had admit defeat and stopped trying to prank her, there was still a resounding amount of tension between the three. [Y/N] and George most of all. It seemed that whenever the two of you were within eye sight of each other it was inevitable they were going to fight. Near every time they saw one another they wound up screaming.

So, all in all given the mutual hate/hate relationship with one another, it was safe to say that George was beyond shocked to find himself currently, and yet again, pulled tight between her thighs on a desk in an empty classroom frantically clawing at the various layers of clothing separating their bodies from one another. Lips locked in a heated and deep kiss that left both gasping for air. He was tearing at the buttons of her shirt as she fumbled with the clasp of his belt and jean zipper.

This had become a somewhat regular occurrence between them. They both hated each other but whenever they were alone neither could restrain themself.

If they were to run into one another past curfew, there was always somewhere to hide and fuck one anothers brains out. Caught alone in a hall between classes, they'd suddenly find themselves clumsily shoved into a hidden passage or cupboard pashing intensely or otherwise involved in some other not suitable for school activities.

By this point they had probably snogged in every closet of the castle, and fucked in just as many empty rooms.

It hadn't been easy of course, for George especially, having to lie to his brother was something he always hated to do. So when he asked where the scratches on his neck and shoulders came from things would suddenly become uncomfortably awkward between the two. For a few minutes anyway, until Fred eventually would drop the subject.

He could only imagine the questions [Y/N] was being bombarded with when people noticed the countless hickies littering her skin. Questions he knew were being asked due to the circling rumours he'd heard of the marks. He could never help himself. Leaving love bites over her soft skin was one of his favourite things to do in the moment. He'd be sure to leave a few fresh ones again tonight.

As his belt came loose he shimmied his jeans down the rest of the way, stepping out of the bunched material. The sound of his pants hitting the floor excited [Y/N] further, wrapping her legs tight around his waist in anticipation, she rolled her hips into his seeking friction. This pulled a deep groan from George as he threw the girls shirt aside haphazardly, lips still locked with the others.

Breaking the kiss only to pull his sweater over his head, while he removed her tights. He snaked an arm around the girls lower back and pulled her flush against him as his other found it's way into her [Y/H/L] hair to bring their lips back to his once again. She reached eagerly for his buldge and palmed him gently a few times, over the thin material, before sliding a hand below the band of his boxers. Taking a firm grip to his member he moaned and detached her legs from around him completely. Bringing the hand he had placed on her lower back to pull off her lace underwear. Gasping as the cold air struck her aching core, and the cold desk top hit her bare ass she immediately threw her legs over him again but this time the grip in her thighs around his waist was notably tighter. The hand that'd been supporting herself on quickly came to grip Georges shoulders. He used his free hand to finally remove his boxers completely and she lined him up with her soaking entrance. Both moaning as his tip made contact. Unable to wait any longer [Y/N] looked into Georges eyes, breaking their needy kiss once again, seeking premission to continue. He nodded as he buried his head into her neck and she brought him in by her legs. Unable to restrain the whine that left her lips as she adjust to his size.

Chest heaving against his, [Y/N] moaned his name and bucked her hips to let him know she were ready. With a deep growl from his throat and a final kiss to the nape of the neck he began to thrust, at first slowly, but both knew by now how the other liked it and so soon he was fucking her with as much force as he could. Pressed tight against one another she were scratching for grip on his shoulders as he pulled her into him with both hands on her lower back. [Y/N] was fighting with all her strength to stop herself moaning too loud. He was lightly biting at the skin of her chest to keep from doing the same.

[Y/N]s mind wandered for a moment to what would happen if a teacher were to walk by. They'd stop abruptly at the sound of soft moans and gasps coming from the meant to be empty room, mixed with the rhythmic beat of the old desks legs being rocked off the floor with every hard thrust from George's hips.

Suddenly she were snapped back from her thoughts by a tightness in her abdomen and the feeling of Georges strong hand reaching up to wrap around her neck.

He pushed her down so her back was flat against the cold wooden desk top, grip on the throat tightening. [Y/N] knew he was getting close. That was his go to finishing move. He'd choke her against the surface of, whatever, they were having sex against and use his free hand to stroke her sensitive clit as his speed violently increased. As he pounded into her, her mouth opened in a silent plead for release. His breathing was rapid and he could be heard grunting with every thrust as he tried desperately to hold on until she came first.

Then for the first time, in a long time, George did something new. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder as he fucked her. She had to bite her lip to stop from screaming now, but any attempts to remain quiet were futile against the loud moans escaping her dry mouth as he pounded directly into her g-spot. Feeling his hands grip loosen around her throat and travel to the baseline of her hair, George pulled their faces towards one anothers. Placing a rough kiss to her lips he leant to speak in her ear, whispering in a husky voice "scream if you need to, just let it go." They'd never spoken much during these encounters and his new position coupled with his coaxing tone got her heart racing faster, chest beginning to heave. "George..." she whined into him and tightly shut her eyes, he chuckled at the pleading "I know." His finger on her clit began to press down and circle faster, and her breath began to falter and shudder under his touch. Head falling forward into the crook of his neck "George!" She moaned loudly this time nearly shouting. "Look at me." He comanded, pressing his forehead to hers. She tried to obey but the pleasure was too much, it caused her head to drop again.

He clasped her jaw in his hand that had been pulling on the hair at the back of the scalp, forcing her to stay at eye level with him. "I'm not going to last much longer, so it's bloody well time you fucking cum." he growled.

[Y/N]s toes began to curl and she bit her lip "fuck" she breathed. Another loud moan leaving her lips, tightening around him as her orgasm approached. Unable to stop the sounds issuing from her own mouth now. With one final hard thrust from his hips she screamed. There wasn't a doubt in their minds that, had there been a teacher or prefect in the corridor outside they'd be promptly storming toward the room.

Feeling her unravel beneath him George let himself come undone. Letting go to step back, giving a few final tugs on his cock, he'd readied himself to cum when suddenly his movements were cut off by [Y/N] jumping down to his feet and taking him whole in her mouth. Running tongue over his swollen tip and right down to his thick base, she could taste herself on him. Gently grazing teeth over his sensitive skin it didn't take much and he came hot and heavy into her mouth. Gripping a handful of her [Y/H/L + C] hair as he did so.

Licking lips as she stood and she pulled her body close to kiss him deeply. Only stopping when she felt him shudder slightly from poorly restrained laughter. [Y/N] looked up at him with furrowed brows to which he smiled brightly.

"Fuck...you're a crazy bitch." The girl looked at him sternly as if to ask 'seriously?'.

"Am I now?" She asked trying to hide a smile, given the circumstances it was a little difficult to remain angry at him - after all he does look fucking gorgeous after sex.

"Yeah, you are." He grabbed her and pulled their sweaty bodies flush together once more. Slowly he traced his fingers up across her bra strap, along the vein in her neck to behind her ear, "but you fuck so good, think I'm on top of it." He kissed sweetly.

"We really need to go" [Y/N] mumbled into his lips and swiftly turned away from him to begin getting changed. He huffed and frowned at the abrupt break in closeness but lightened when he recalled the past events.

"True. I guess, even though the whole castle heard you having mind blowing sex, I don't think the staff on patrol will appreciate catching us half naked" he joked pulling on his jeans and stuffing his underwear in his pocket. Throwing his jumper at him she ran her fingers through her hair and made to leave when a whistle from behind made her turn.

George was leaning against the tainted desk with his arms folded and a grin on his face. She raised an eyebrow at him impatiently which only caused his smile to widen as he raised one hand to show a pair of lacey pink panties dangling from his forefinger. "Can't forget these, love."

She snatched them from him and left with a scowl like nothing in their relationship had changed. George couldn't contain his smile as he shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly left the room heading for his dormitory, laughing to himself he commented "Crazy bitch".

[eveenstar]

Danny/ghostie with his spouse finding out he's ghost face a year after they married. Like he actually had it from them with some worry they'd either call the cops or leave him. They actually give out a sigh of relief and just causally explaining to him that they were panicking about telling him they were somehow catching feels for the killer ghost face. Scenario/one shot please

Hello! Sorry for the delay and this is also quite short. I also made it gender neutral reader. Hope you like it! ♡

Truth (Pre-Entity!Ghostface x reader)

Summary: Reader finds their husband is the mysterious Ghostface, but surprisingly takes it well enough.

Tags/Warnings: Reader is probably a bit unstable, but nothing more than that. Danny being Danny.

Note: I actually liked this one, it even gave me an idea for a one-shot!

- - -

This past year has been perfectly perfect. Your newly husband, Danny Johnson, has been absolutely splendid. You couldn't ask for better, really. You loved when he would surprise you with breakfast in bed, or late night snacks.

Have I told you how you met? Oh, right. You two met on your morning walk through the park, you let your phone fall and as you tried to pick it up, both your hands touched as Johnson also tried to pick it. A true romantic first love encounter, am I right? Of course.

But, lately, the news have been flooded with what the press has called "Ghostface: The phantom killer" (excessive, I know). This cheeky murderer who's been killing people across different states, also known for his ability to disappear without a single trace. Like he could just vanish out of thin air. Also, apparently he loves to take pictures of his victims while giving a thumbs up; what an asshole.

You kept to yourself how a dark part of you was beginning to "fall in love" with this mysterious man. Maybe you should get therapy.

But you couldn't help but notice how off your husband as been lately. Getting home late, lying to you, and insisting on taking care of the clothing. If you didn't know better, you would say Danny's cheating on you. After nearly 7 years of relationship, it could be a possibility. That's what you thought until you decided to search his wardrobe (yes, you did wait for him to leave home) and found this old wooden box. You didn't have a key so you just decided to break it open with a knife.

"Oh, my, god." You said between breaths. So distracted by the creepy sight in front of you, you didn't hear the front door open or the slow footsteps stopping behind you.

"Sweetheart," Danny's voice echoed, "Didn't your mommy teach you to not touch what isn't yours?"

You turned around to face him, "Danny! Love! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it but you've been acting so weird lately and I thought-" You paused to notice he was holding something behind his back.

"You thought?" Danny tilted his head, his way too big smile almost tearing his cheeks apart.

"I thought you were cheating on me," A dark chuckle left his lips, "but, but this is better. Really."

Johnson seemed a bit taken aback by this. But was this just a scheme to distract him from, well...you know his favorite hobby besides stalking you, don't you?

He took a step forward.

"I'm not complaining, really. I've been so fascinated with Ghostface, and-"

"Fascinated?" Danny interrumpted you, raising his eyebrow.

"Yes," You grabbed his free hand, cold as always, "Fascinated. Heavens, I promise I won't call the cops on you. I'll even help you if I can! I was scared to tell you I was falling in love with a murderer."

"Oh, darling..." Danny chuckled, caressing your cheek sweetly, "You have no idea how that warms my heart."

Suddenly, Johnson hid his knife back onto his pocket without you noticing it and hug you closely.

[softsebnbuckystan]

Soul ties - Part 5 (Bucky Barnes au)

“And I'll use you as a focal point

So I don't lose sight of what I want”

"Oh! I didn't expect you so soon after the wedding," Bruce Banner said as you  walked into his lab. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course, thanks for asking, though. I just ran into Steve, and he said you'd actually found something while I was gone?"

A spark lit in Banner's eyes as he went around all his papers and tablets, searching for the information he wanted to share with you. Working with someone who was as passionate about science as you were was delightful : there was never an unproductive moment. You two were always thinking, bouncing off each other's ideas and coming up with useful inventions. You'd once helped two S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists, Fitz and Simmons, design "icers". They were non-lethal guns who could knock out theoretically anyone.

"See, we were talking about neural termination restaurations the other day. We thought it was next to impossible, since neurons are gone forever. But I was thinking..."

And off you started... It would be hard to get you two to stop before dinner time. You were so caught up in your work, lab goggles over your eyes, that Bruce had to tap on your shoulder to show you someone was there. You shot your head up, ready to say you were busy, but your body froze as you saw Bucky. You  didn't expect to run into him so quickly.

"Hey! Need anything?" you asked as he leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets.

"No, I just... You guys are impressive."

Bucky looked all around the lab and his mouth didn't seem to be able to close.

"All this...is you two?"

You let out a small laugh. "Stark helped out a lot, we have to admit. He provides us with the tech, and we handle the other sciences, you know."

"What's your area?" he asked, his eyes coming back on you.

"Biochem and astrophysics."

"So like...planets and stuff too?"

"Yeah, basically."

At the other side of the room, Bruce was trying not to smile : he could only imagine how hard it was for you not to get carried away by details and explaining how amazing and compelling constellations, solar systems and galaxies were.

"I love that stuff," Bucky breathed out.

"Alright, since you're not alone, y/n, I'll go grab some lunch."

"Lunch already?"

Bruce nodded and left the room after making sure you'd be up to work again in the afternoon. You  most certainly hadn't seen time go by and a sudden soreness in your eyes made you aware of what time it was.

"I should probably take a break as well," you admitted. You fiddled with your fingers, a little awkward now that you weren't busy working, before a brilliant idea came to your mind. "Do you want to see something, like...really cool?"

"Obviously I do."

"Okay, follow me."

You instinctively grabbed Bucky's hand and jumped with surprise at the texture of it. You lowered your eyes to look at it and he immediately moved his arm away from you. It was...metal. Well, you didn't expect that, but who cared?

"I didn't know you had this," you said in a what wanted to be a casual tone.

"Yeah, long story." His elusive answer proved he wasn't ready to tell you about it.

"I'll hear it anytime," you said with a smile to reassure him before grabbing his hand again. The last thing you wanted him to think was that it scared you off. "Let's go now."

He didn't pull back this time, and you dragged him a few floors down, taking the stairs so you  didn't have to wait for the elevator. You were walking fast, impatient as the thought of showing Bucky your passion made you.  You ended up letting go of his hand to open a big door and hurried him in.

"What is this room, y/n?"

Ignoring the sound of your name in his mouth, you closed the door, plunging the room in pitch black.

"Don't move, I just have to grab the remote."

You easily found it, then carefully made your way back to him. Hearing his breath picking up, you laid a hand on his back.

"Breathe. I promise you'll love this."

With the press of a button,  billions of stars surrounded you, lightning Bucky's  face as he stared in amazement.

"I told you you'd like this," you whispered.

"This...wow." Bucky was speechless. He'd been staying here for a while and had never seen this room before, apparently.

You went to sit on one of the bean bag chairs you'd brought  yourself and Bucky decided to follow you, unable to take his eyes off the fake sky in front of him.

"Are those...real constellations?"

"Absolutely." This was your time : talking about this always made you happy. "See  the ones that are kinda forming a V? If you look closely, they form the Capricorn constellation. Right above it is Aquarius. And on the left, that's Cernus, the one that looks like a whale. And then...sorry. I talk too much."

"No, no. Keep going."

Bucky leaned back in his chair, still looking up. A huge smile split your face as  you kept on telling him about constellations, showing him well known ones as much as others, less famous. You had no idea how long it had been when you got out, and a glance at your phone told you it'd been over an hour.

"I'm sorry if that bored you,"  you told him while closing the door. "When I start talking about stars..."

"Not at all. I get that. I could have listened for five more hours."

You chuckled nervously and gulped, joining your hand in your back as you  walked along the hallway to the elevator. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I've got to get back to work, but if you want to see the stars again some time, you know where to find me."

---

"I'm eating at Brad's  tonight. I think there's pizza left in the fridge."

You'd been looking at Darren's text for five minutes : what were you supposed to say  to that? At least he had the decency to warn you...thirty minutes before your usual dinner time.

"You okay there?"

You looked away from your phone screen and gave Steve a bitter smile. "Not really. Darren bailed. Again."

Steve shook his head. You could tell he was angry at him. It's not like they had ever been wonderful friends, but you'd hoped Darren would make efforts to get to know Steve and the rest of the gang. They'd done their part ; Darren just never seemed to deem it necessary.

"I'm sure Wanda will be available for a pizza and movie night. You can stay here as long as you-"

Your ringtone interrupted Steve's sentence : Darren was calling you.

"Hello?"

"It's me, honey. Just wanted to tell you I'm staying over at Brad's. We had a few beers so I don't want to take the risk to drive."

"Oh, huh... Yeah. That's safer."

Your friend rolled his eyes – a thing he rarely did as bitterly.

"I'm not home either anyway," you said, hoping it would get a reaction out of him.

"Really? Where are you?"

"At the compound." You heard Darren make a mocking noise.

"I don't even know why I asked. Of course that's where you are."

You let out an angry breath and decided to end the phone call.

"I don't know what time you'll get home tomorrow, but don't worry if I'm not there. I'll probably come back late in the afternoon. Bye."

"By-"

You hung up. You didn't want to hear his voice any longer.  Steve grabbed you by the shoulder to comfort you.

"I'll get a room ready for you."

"Thanks, Steve."

"This guy is such a dick."

And that was your sister's reaction as she walked in, learning what had happened from your mind.  She sure was less civil than Steve, but have someone be as upset as you helped you understand that you were right to be mad at Darren.

"I'm sorry,  I know you married the guy, but-"

"No, you're right," you interrupted her as she sat at your other side. "He is behaving like a dick."

Wanda laughed as she pulled you in for a warm hug. "Men are the worst. Don't feel like it's your fault."

"You know I'm here, and a man, right?" Steve joked.

You and Wanda shot him fake ferocious looks and he held up his hands as a sign of peace.

"Fine, fine, men are the worst," he said solemnly.

--- Thanks again for the support y'all gave to the 4 previous parts. I hope this one is good! :) Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list ^^

Tag list

@ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02

[flysafepapi]

There's an old song that he remembers hearing, when he was young. He can't remember where he heard it, but for reasons unknown to him, it's what he hears when the sound of John and Esme yelling at him fade away. Is he singing along with it? He doesn't know, but he remembers all the words, about a blackbird and being free. Something about becoming a king. It sounds good to him.

"I love you. I'm going to be right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

He's heard that your life flashes through your mind, before you die. Well, this is the second time he's been in this situation, and he doesn't remember anything like that. There's no slow motion replay of all his memories, there isn't anything except the darkness, so thick and crushing that it feels like he could suffocate in it. He's never told anyone, but he's always been afraid of the dark, and the things that lurk just out of sight. He figures he must not be dead yet, because he can still think, so his brain hasn't shut itself down. Not yet, at least.

"You really got yourself into trouble this time. Fight it, like I know you can. Karl misses his uncle."

He wonders what they're going to do without him. Not that they're going to fall to pieces without him, he's not arrogant enough to believe that he's that important, but he knows it's going to break Arthur maybe further than anyone can bring him back from. They've got plans, things they'd always talked about doing. A house out in the country, nothing big, just a little cottage. Room for a big garden, maybe some animals, goats probably. Vincent has always liked goats. A dog or two. Plans that won't ever be realised, now. Still. He knows that they'll look after Arthur for him, as best as they can, and what more could he ask for, really.

"Vin, you have to wake up. He's falling apart without you."

The pain is coming back, now, in fits and starts. It centres in the middle of his spine and spreads outwards like a wave, until it feels like jagged knives are digging into every inch of his body and twisting slowly, or being slowly submerged in acid that burns away the layers of his skin, one agonising area at a time. He still can't breathe, not properly, dragging air down his throat feels like swallowing razor blades. He takes back everything he said about being shot that day, in France. This is the worst thing he's ever felt. If he screams, he can't hear it, but he feels a burn in his throat like he's been yelling himself hoarse.

"Come back to us. You promised, remember? Arthur can't do this without you."

There would have been room in that small country cottage for a kid of their own. Well, not their own, not really, but the distinction doesn't matter. He'd always wanted a family of his own, even though he was sure, for the longest time, that he'd never get one. There's something about him that kids seem to flock to, and he's always thought he'd be a good father. He and Arthur haven't talked about it, not directly, but there's been enough subtle hints from both of them that he was pretty sure it would happen eventually. If it didn't, he wouldn't have been bothered. He had more than enough nieces and nephews to spoil.

"Uncle Vinnie? Can you hear me? I brought your favourite books, so you have something to do when you wake up."

Sometimes, when the sounds of gunfire and screaming got too loud in his head, he'd curl up into himself under the bed. The roughness of the bare wood was comforting, in a strange way, but it was more because down there was cool, and quiet, and he could hide from everything. The first few times, Arthur had gotten confused, kneeling down on the rug to look at him with a frown, ask what he was doing, but he adapts to it eventually. They all had their coping mechanisms, chased away the ghosts of the war in their own ways. When it happens, Arthur sits on the floor, within touching distance, and reads. It doesn't matter what, but the sound of his voice is soothing, and helps Vincent come out of the terrors he'll never be able to shake completely.

"Esme wanted me to give you these flowers, and to tell you that she's sorry she hasn't been in, but someone has to look after the kids."

It's too bright when he opens his eyes. The sterile whiteness that could only be a hospital. It stings, and he has to blink a few times to clear the spots away so he can see properly. The first thing he looks at is down at his body, covered in tight white bandages that stain pink from blood in a dozen different places. The second thing he looks at is the chair next to the bed he's laying on, and the man sitting it, face hidden behind a newspaper. Arthur's still wearing the same clothes that Vincent remembers him wearing that day, however long ago it was. It doesn't surprise him that Arthur's refused to leave his side.

"You look like shit. I'm the one that got shot."

He watches in amusement as Arthur practically throws the newspaper over his shoulder, totally forgotten in a second.

"How long have I-"

"Three weeks. Everyone's been in to see you."

"I can tell."

Almost every surface of the small room is covered in various things; flowers, a small pile of his favourite books, a few stuffed bears in the mix.

"They said you might not make it. When you didn't wake up. I thought-"

"Hey," Vincent can't move properly, not yet, but he reaches out and grabs Arthur's hand in his. It hurts, pulling at the stitches the doctors must have put in at some point, but he doesn't care. "It takes more than that to keep me down, remember?"

"Don't you ever do that to me again. It almost killed me."

"Don't get shot again? I think I can manage that."

Arthur frowns at him, and when he looks, really looks, he can see the redness around Arthur's eyes, the fresh tears that gather in the corners of his eyes.

"No, I mean it. I can't do any of this without you with me, alright? I fucking love you. There is no me if there's no you."

[elysmi]

Something there // Zuko x Y/N

Based on ‘Something there’ from Beauty and The Beast

Warning: Zuko being aangsty

I recommend listening to the song as you read.

Also, the gif is not mine.

~~~~~~

Something there

Y/N rested against a tree, her eyes glued to Zuko as he sparred with Aang

‘There's something sweet, and almost kind’

Her mind and heart seemed to be at war with each other as she watched him gracefully move his body to dodge Aang’s fire.

She remembered the night before, when she remained outside after everyone went to sleep, keeping herself warm by the fire as she thought about her home.

“You mind some company?” Zuko smiled as he sat down next to her.

She smiled back at him.

“Not at all.”

His eyes met her e/y ones, and a blush appeared on both their faces.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked her.

She sighed, looking down. “My parents. I left them after the eclipse, they told me to go, that it’ll be safer for me.

I’m worried about them. I mean, I’m glad they’re not at the Boiling Rock, of course, but I have no idea where they are and it’s killing me inside.”

Zuko turned his body towards her, and placed his hand on hers. She looked up, her cheeks turning red as he gave her a soft look.

“Your parents are strong and capable, and I have no doubt they are still alive, pridefully fighting. When this is over, we’re going to free them, and you’ll reunite with them.”

He gently brushed his thumb over her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“They’ll want you to not worry about them. And I’m sure that wherever they’re right now, they’re so proud of you. You’re helping the avatar restore balance to the world, and you’re fighting against everything the other side of the war throws at you. They’re proud of you.”

He gently lifted her chin up, his golden eyes shining brightly as he stared at her as if she was the most beautiful person he ever laid eyes on.

“I am proud of you.”

She snapped out of it, watching him direct a fireball at Aang.

She frowned slightly, remembering the first time they met.

‘But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined’

It was during the time that Katara stole the water bending scroll from the pirates.

A week after Y/N left Omashu to help Aang and his friends, Zuko found them during the night while Y/N was watching Katara practice her water bending.

Since her earthbending skills weren’t that great back then, she didn’t really stood her ground against the pirates and Zuko with his guards, and ended up tied next to Katara.

“I’ll save you both from the pirates.” He tried to blackmails Katara to tell him the whereabouts of the avatar with her mother’s necklace.

“Go jump in the river.” Y/N spat at the prince.

He turned towards her, as if he noticed her for the first time.

“Well well, another peasant joined your little group.”

Y/N only rolled her eyes at him. “Strong words coming from a scarred banished prince with no honor, don’t you think?”

Need less to say, it didn’t went nicely from that moment on.

She worked hard with her earthbending from that day, swearing she’ll never be as useless as she was that night.

And every single time they met after that day, it was her that fought him. He always noticed that she was getting better each time they fought, and that’s when he truly paid attention to her.

She wasn’t much of a peasant after all.

‘And now he's dear, and so unsure

I wonder why I didn't see it there before’

But those days were in the past. He was a different man now. A strong, brave, kind man, who left his nation behind to join team avatar and fight against his father.

And she’d lie to say she didn’t have feelings for him.

He was handsome, inside and out.

Of course, he was still very insecure and had anger issues, but she knew he was working on that.

And she was proud of him.

She came out of her thoughts as she saw Zuko shot a huge fireball at Aang.

Poor Aang couldn’t firebend back in time, and used airbending instead.

The air blast was so strong, it sent Zuko flying two meters in the air before landing on the water.

He shot out of it after a few seconds, tangled in sea weed.

He yelled angrily as he tried to untangle himself, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Even in these situations he managed to be just as handsome.

‘She glanced this way, I thought I saw’

His eyes widened when he heard laughter, not knowing Y/N was watching them. He finally untangled himself and turned to face her, and the sight of her giggling in amusement made his heart skip a beat.

How could someone be so perfect? He found himself asking.

‘And when we touched, she didn't shudder at my paw’

Memories of the precious night appeared in his mind, remembering how they watched the stars together the entire night, and he told her about his childhood, his mother, and his scar.

How embarrassing it was for him to realize he was crying. He thought she’d be disgusted by this gesture, that she’ll think he was weak and pathetic, just like his father and his sister thought.

What he didn’t expect was for her to slowly embrace him in her arms, softly leaning his head on her shoulder.

He gasped as her hand softly caressed his cheek, slowly going up to touch his scar.

He pulled away in fear; why was he afraid? Was he afraid? What if she thought he was as hideous as a monster? She must have thought this way, it was completely normal.

He was weak, pathetic, and hideous.

And she knew it, and he knew it.

“I know what you think of me.” He tried to say coldly, but his voice came out in a tremble, as if he was facing his worst nightmare. “You think I am hideous. As good as a monster.”

Y/N gasped in shock as he spoke, and she immediately took his hands in hers and brought them to her lips. Zuko blushed at her gesture, and watched her in surprise.

“I think your scar proves that no matter what you went through, no matter what people threw at you, you came out stronger than you were before. I don’t think you’re a monster, Zuko. I think you’re brave and honorable, and I am so happy you joined our group. I am glad to be around you, because you inspire me so much.”

His eyes widened, his lips trembling.

“I- I inspire you?”

She chuckled softly at him, placing her hand on his right cheek again. “You’re the living proof that we can learn from our mistakes and become the best versions of ourselves. That we can all change for the greater good.”

She leaned in slowly, and her lips rested on his scar softly, making him feel something he never felt before.

“And I don’t think you’re hideous, Prince Zuko. I think you’re the handsomest boy I have ever laid eyes upon.”

Zuko shook his head as Aang asked him if he was alright.

Of course he was.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

Every since he joined team avatar, there’s hasn’t been a moment he didn’t think of her.

Whenever the group gathered around to eat, it wold physically hurt him if he didn’t sat directly next to her. It would pain him in various ways if she didn’t talk to him or acknowledge his presence.

But she always did. Sometimes he felt as if he was the only one she noticed at all.

‘No, it can't be, I'll just ignore’

He couldn’t let his feelings get to him. She couldn’t possibly like him, of course?

Why would she?

She was the most intelligent and beautiful girl he knew, and she always knew exactly what to say. She was mature and responsible and she wanted the best she could have in her future after the war would come to an end.

He was just a scared banished Prince, hated by his own family and nation. What could he possibly offer her that she’d want?

She could barely tolerate him, anyway.

His eyes widened as she slowly walked towards him as Aang decided to take a break, trying to look away from her hips as she swayed them gracefully on her way.

‘But then she's never looked at me that way before’

Her eyes met his, and a smile appeared on her face as he noticed her.

Several thoughts clouded his mind.

If she truly didn’t like him, why would she act this way around him?

“How was training, Prince Zuko?”

And she always called him by his title, as if it held any meaning at all. She probably did this to tease him, but he honestly thought that his title and his name never sounded as good as they did when it was her to say them.

“Wet.” He muttered, and blushed as she arched a brow in amusement at him. “I mean- seaweed.”

Seaweed? Seriously?

Could he act more like an idiot around her?

He almost sighed out in relief as she giggled softly at his words, and blushed as she took his hand in hers, brushing her thumb over his hand, making sparks lighten his body.

‘New, and a bit alarming

Who'd have ever thought that this could be?’

She blushed as well, but pushed her awkwardness away.

It’s now or never, she told herself.

“Listen, I spotted a nice dining place around the nearest town, ten minutes away from here. Would you like to go out with me there?”

He almost fainted right there and then.

“Are yo- you- a-asking me- you’re asking- you want to- are you-“

‘True, that he's no Prince Charming

But there's something in him that I simply didn't see’

She chuckled at his attempt to form a sentence. “Yes dummy, I’m asking you on a date. So? What’s your answer?”

He stood frozen to his place for a minute, and she shook him gently.

“Hello, Zuko there?”

He finally seem to step on earth, and his face formed a smile bigger than he ever did before.

“Yes! I mean...yeah, I’d love to.” He tried to play it cool, but ended up blushing and leaning in to her touch as she placed her hand on his cheek.

“Then let’s go, shall we?”

He kissed her hand, and took it in his.

“Yes, lets go.”

‘Well, who'd have thought? Well, bless my soul, Well, who'd have known?’

Unknown to them, Katara and Sokka were watching them leave, widening their eyes as they spotted them holding hands.

“I can’t believe it.” Katara gasped.

‘Well, who indeed? And who'd have guessed they'd come together on their own?’

Sokka grinned.

“I can’t believe it took them so long.”

“They are so perfect together.” Katara smiled.

‘It's so peculiar, wait and see, we'll wait and see a few days more’

There may be something there that wasn't there before’

“They truly are. They’re perfect for each other.” Sokka admitted.

“Who’s perfect for each other?” Aang asked as he stepped next to them.

His eyes widened and he let out a gasp as he saw Y/N and Zuko smiling at each other, walking hand in hand.

‘Here's a thought, perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before.’

Aang smiled brightly as his friend.

“Well, it’s about time!”

“What’s about time?” Toph asked as she stepped next to them as well, confused by Aang’s statement.

“What’s going on?”

Aang and Katara smiled at each other and walked away as Sokka turned to Toph.

He ruffled her hair and grinned.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

~~~

This is my first one shot on tumblr and I’m quite satisfied with how it ended up. If you have a one shot or short story request, you can leave it here or message me.

[iwritethat]

Wally West: One

A/N: This was a detour from what I was doing. Oops.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

"M'gann?"

"Yes."

"The cute alien chic?" You thought of the girl, clarifying it was indeed the correct one.

"Yes."

"And you're sure this one is the one because you said that 3 girls ago."

"Yes... I mean no, I don’t know - look can you please help me (Y/n)." Wally playfully pleaded with you like he’d done on multiple occaisions prior to this and you could only shrug in defeat.

"Sure but my conditions remain the same."

"I know, no bragging, pizza on me, you pick the film for the next 3 weeks."

"And?" You mockingly coaxed, knowing how much the next particular demand pained him which was evident in his deadpan but reluctant tone.

"And no mocking your dates."

"Good."

.

The following day you’d stategically accompanied Kid Flash on a visit to Mount Justice, the sight of you two together was no surprise to Robin, Aqualad nor Speedy though the remainder were intrigued by the mysterious stranger so Wally proudly made introductions.

"Hey M'gann, Conner, this is (Y/n)."

"Ah, this is who you love so much to talk about!" The Martian beamed grasping your hands as you shot a glare to a flustered Wally, the guy sheepishly running a hand through his strands.

"Is this your... girlfriend?" Superboy casually inquired after thinking of the correct terminology, yet again leaving you to wonder what your friend has been saying about you in your absence - also considering the implication this’d have on your scheme.

"No! Definitely not! I'm totally single, just because I've told you about (Y/n) doesn't mean we're dating. We're not dating by the way." Wally briskly recovered, blush fading as he emphasised his point specifically for the sake of M'gann.

"Nice to meet you both. Ah Kaldur!" You lit up once seeing the Atlantean, immediately embracing his form just as he did to you in hopes of catching up with him.

"It's been a while (Y/n), you look well."

"(Y/n) is here? Looking as lovely as ever, surprised you're still hanging with Wally though, you're way out of his league." Robin proudly joked as he walked toward you, genuinely happy to see you again and a girl called Artemis agreed with him despite only recently learning your name - supposedly teasing Wally was a commodity amount the Team.

"I'm here for training, Canary said she'd activated the sparring platform so I wanted to test it." With a content shrug you set your plan in motion, gesturing over to the designated area as indication.

Now you were very well trained, the team knew that so it wasn't a surprise when every single member landed with a 'FAIL' until Wally challenged your winning streak. You went two rounds, the first you played to his strengths allowing him to take you down with his speed and received the only 'PASS' of the day. M'gann cheered, flying over with questions and compliments whilst you comfortably sat up and proudly watched Wally bask in the desired attention. Meanwhile got to your feet, brushing yourself only to be met with a smirking Robin beside your figure.

"I know what you're doing and you are good at it, but I don't think it's gonna work."

"Does it ever work with Wally? He's never met a girl he's really caught deep feelings for but I'm only in it for the free food he's promised me." Came your knowing reply, softly smirking at Robin who seemed to disagree but accepted your justification nonetheless.

"There is one y'know..."

"Hey (Y/n) ready to get your ass whooped by the best there is? Fastest kid alive babe." The speedster smugly gained your deadly gaze, his boasting violating the agreement you’d struck less than 24 hours ago and thus not giving you a chance for Robin to elaborate like you’d wished.

This time you would not allow him a victory, like the others you took him out with a mischievous smile and then crouched over his waist whilst he leaned up on his elbows to meet you.

"No. Bragging." You raised a brow, tilting his chin towards you as you punctuated each word as a reminder before heading out. Although your plan had still succeeded to a degree, you walked backwards finding the Martian kneeling down to your friend inquiring about his condition as you winked at him - Wally seemingly impressed with your antics, as he usually was whenever he roped you into these scenarios.

.

You retained your attentive skills, even talking him up to M'gann but it became painfully obvious that her romantic affections were reserved for a certain clone which left you disappointed albeit pleased for her. Now, you had to break the news to Wally - you'd considered such measures while sitting against the wall in one of the Mountains many hallways bouncing a ball off of the other side as a form of contemplation.

Soon enough your felt a familiar comforting presence beside you, catching the ball and initiating a harmless game between the two of you.

"What's on your mind?" Wally knew you incredibly well, narrowing down I even the smallest quirks and he'd use that to his advantage.

"Nothing, but I'm afraid you might have to give up on M'gann."

"I know. Supes right?" He didn't seemed phased by your sympathetic disclosure, which surprised you slightly due to how long he’d spent gushing over the girl.

"Yeah, sorry West."

"It's alright. Thanks for trying, I'll still get you that pizza."

"But I didn't...?" His response was unexpected, leaving you somewhat speechless but he soon continued with conversation before you could finish, no evidence of heartbreak to be seen.

"That Dan guy you went out with? (Y/n) c'mon you're stunning, and he didn't even offer to pay the full check at the coffee shop. You deserve so much better, his flirting game was awful too." Wally reminisced on the details you’d cruelly given knowing he wouldn’t able to comment due to you deal, although such a thing was now void and you’d regretted that decision. Yet part of you enjoyed his mocking support.

"So I get the pizza but have to suffer your judgements for not getting you a date? I'm sure you have something to say about Jackson too." You threw your head back with an exaggerated sigh, Wally laughing as he replied.

"Don't get me started..."

.

How unaffected Wally seemed about the let down still puzzled you, although you believed something else must've attained his focus - not that you had any indication of what it was as you sat flicking through the channels.

"So... there's another girl." There it is.

"Dude, are you kidding me? Give yourself a month at least."

"No this one is the one, I know it." His tone was oddly confident compared to his usual dilemmas regarding that topic which automatically gained your full attention.

"Uh Huh. And when did you meet her? Love at first sight or whatever?"

"I've known her longer than a few days give me some credit here. But it wasn't at first sight, I didn't even notice it was happening or rather happened..." Wally's point was certainly more realistic in comparison and he was being truthful - again, maybe this peculiar circumstance held promise.

"You know my terms an-" You simply shrugged, assuming he wanted your assistance once more which dulled your growing investment slightly.

"No, not for this one."

"Hot damn, this woman must be special. Tell me everything!" That decision shocked you and it was evident in your tone, you excitedly encouraged him to indulge your lowkey interrogation since he never turned down your assistance.

"Yes she definitely is, but I don't know what to do for her y'know?"

"Romantic restaurant? Roses? Tell her over a romantic dinner." You listed things instantly, barely stopping for a breather.

"Would you want all that though?" Wally considered your ideas, furrowing his brows before he asked his question even if his posture radiated nervousness despite the confident facade he’d attempted to convey.

"Hah, no way! Honestly I'd love a chill night in, order a take out, put on a good series and just enjoy each other's company. I mean roses are nice too but I want to know my date likes me enough to relax and be themselves - you can't really do that in a fancy restaurant. Anyway, you should probably find out what this girl likes first." You simply smiled, giving him an honest opinion and advice for you felt he'd finally found someone more than just a crush to him.

"I guess..."

It was silent for a moment until familiar words echoed in your mind 'There is one y'know...' and instantly you stood up with your realisation.

"I know who it is!"

"What?! How?!" Wally snapped to with concern evident in his expression like a deer in headlights, unbeknownst to you why that was but he too halted in his tracks.

"Dick told me, I don't believe it Wally - it's great!" Now you had Artemis in your head, they'd hated one another at first so it certainly made sense that he'd grown to like her. They'd also kissed at New Years Eve or so you'd heard.

"Robin told you I liked you?! Are you kidding? He only knows because I thought he had a crush on you." That answer caught you off guard, practically disintegrating your ability to form a coherent sentence or even think straight due to the abruptness of it.

"Wait me? I didn't, um, I can't, since when? All the times I've been helping you with girls I... I..."

"Wait you didn't know? Okay stay there, I'm doing this again!" Wally held his hands out in defence, soon disappearing leaving you standing alone with your thoughts. A dangerous thing really.

Did you even have feelings for him? Quite possibly, that would explain why you occasionally compared dates to him and why you were always so willing to help him find his happiness but surely you wouldn't have suppressed them? It was so confusing.

Within a minute he appeared before you, a single red rose in hand and sheepish smile.

"I'm late I know that but there's no pressure for you. This is not how I expected you to find out, I aimed to flirt with you and only you before making a move so it wasn't thrown on you so suddenly but here we are. Guess I'm not great with girls without you."

With a mischievous grin, you pulled him close by his red hoodie and gently met his lips with your own and you couldn't deny how right it felt - an action you’d hope would quell the warring emotions. You pulled apart, his arms wrapped around your waist and yours on his shoulders.

"You're actually quite adequate, I'm just as surprised as you are."

"Oh you're hilarious." He matched your witty sarcasm, but still you find his happiness intoxicating.

"Can we, um could we take things slow? I know that's ironic to ask the fastest kid alive but please."

"I'd slow down for you, I want to take my time in every moment I get so it won't be a problem (Y/n). I promise." Despite the trace of concern in your voice, Wally was reassuring and sincere with his words so you both felt comfortable in whatever situation you'd crafted.

"So, I assume you won't be mocking my dates anymore."

"I think every date you'll have from now on is gonna be too great for me judge. Ah too bad, I know how much you loved me doing that." The speedster playfully responded with a knowingly satisfied smirk to which you threw him an 'are you serious?' expression.

Later, as you both sat comfortably on Wallys' bed eating pizza whilst a film played in the background, you received simultaneous texts from none other than Dick Grayson - his smugness translated even in a message.

[Dickiebird: Told you so.]