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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 year

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FINDING YOU: One Year Later

Summary: You're in a relationship with Steve Rogers, but his best friend just always seems to be around!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: This came out longer than I thought!

MASTERLIST

One Year Later

Lines of worry creased the skin on your temples. Getting a call from the police about your boyfriend was never a good sign. It seemed a little odd to you that they had requested your presence in Kissena Park in Queens. Your hands squeezed the steering wheel repeatedly as you waited for the lights to change, you were only two blocks away from the location coordinates you’d been sent.

Fucking finally! you thought as you shifted the gear to park and hopped out with your phone.

It didn’t take long for you to catch sight of a patrol car with the door of the backseat open and a sullen Bucky sitting behind the partition. The officers appeared to be rather relaxed and you contemplated your approach. There wasn’t any need to introduce yourself, one of the officers spotted your arrival.

"You the S.O.?"

"Yeah. What's going on?"

"He's been lurking around the park. A family complained that they found it creepy. Now we know Sergeant Barnes is an Avenger and we wanted to confirm that he is acting under the orders of the correct authorities. He said you were his S.O.. Can we see your credentials?"

You wanted to slap yourself across the forehead. They clearly meant superior officer, not significant other. It was a good thing you carried your S.H.I.E.L.D. identification with you everywhere, even though you technically weren't an active agent any more.

"Ma'am, we're happy to release Sergeant Barnes to you. I hope we don't receive any further complaints."

"No problem officer. Thank you for the call, it's most appreciated.” You jerked your head at Bucky, trying to look authoritative. "Let's go."

He followed you back to your car sullenly, getting into the passenger seat. He looked at the floor, almost looking like a child who was waiting to be scolded for his behavior.

"You OK?" you asked.

"Yeah," he grunted, offering nothing by way of explanation to his actions.

"You going to tell what happened back there?"

If there was one thing Bucky was good at, it was the vacant stare.

“Look Buck, you know I don't want to force you to do anything but I just had to use my ID to get you out of trouble. Just because you're not on parole anymore, doesn't mean they won't use any excuse to throw you under the bus. Don't you think I deserve some kind of explanation?”

This time Bucky looked up at you, anguish clearly etched across his face.

You sighed, taking his hand and leaning back on your seat. After a few moments of silence, you reached out to start the car. Just as you were about to press the ignition, Bucky spoke.

"They're my family."

Whatever you expected from him, this was not it.

"What?" you asked in disbelief.

“They're my sister's kids… and grandkids. I thought-” he paused, struggling to find the right words. “I thought it might help me… to remember things about who I was before… before all this. My sister, she always used to make me laugh when I was down. I thought if I had something of hers, a photograph even, it would be-

“They kept all the Howling Commando uniforms, all those recordings of our tactical briefings, and so many other things at the Smithsonian. But they said all personal artifacts were returned to family members.

“Anyway, turns out, she grew up, got married and had kids. And their kids had their own kids. She's gone now, my sister. I don't know what I'd expected.”

You squeezed his hand in sympathy. “Why didn't you go over and talk to them?”

“And say what? Hi, I'm your Uncle Bucky, I've been a brainwashed assassin for the last 70 years but I'm back now. Let's have dinner together?”

“Well I probably wouldn't have quite put it like that, but that would be the basic gist.”

“Do you think they'd even want me around, near their children?”

“Sam doesn't seem to have any problem with you hanging out with his nephews.”

“Sam knows me.”

“I mean, there is an easy solution to the problem. You could let them get to know you? I get it, Buck. It's scary. But I'd give anything to be able to have my sisters back."

You rarely spoke to anyone about your past before S.H.I.E.L.D. Not many people knew that your older sisters had been killed by HYDRA. It was the reason you'd joined the agency in the first place.

“I know.” He squeezed your hand gently.

“Whatever you want to do, I'm here for you.”

“Can I say something stupid?”

“Wow, might be the first time you’ve asked permission, normally do just go ahead and do it.”

Bucky deigned your response with a side eye and the tiniest of smiles.

“What if they don’t want me?”

“Then they don’t deserve you.”

Bucky sat in a contemplative silence, mulling over your words. After a few minutes, you started to feel a bit restless, wondering how long you were expected to sit in your car watching him think. It wasn’t that you minded significantly, but you’d been about to eat when the cops had called and your stomach felt like it had started digesting itself.

Just as you were about to say something, he spoke.

“Will you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Tell them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well last time they called the police because they saw me. I’m not sure how they will take it if I just walk up to them.”

“Fair point.”

“You should probably go, they usually leave around now.”

“Bucky!”

“Please?”

His voice was soft, his eyes pleading. He didn’t ask you for much in your relationship, always happy to do the things you enjoyed because he was happiest seeing your face filled with joy. How could you refuse? It’s not that you wanted to refuse, you’d go to the moon if Bucky asked you, but you were afraid of how things would turn out for the man you loved.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

You hopped out of the car and made your way over to the large group that Bucky had pointed out to you.

"Excuse me? Hi!" you called out. Why did you sound so strange? How did you still find these social situations intimidating? You were an agent, a doctor and a teacher, why was it so hard to start a social conversation with a stranger?

"Hello!" A short brunette with blue eyes responded to you. "Can I help you?"

You introduced yourself. "I'm here on behalf of… my-" you sighed. Why was this so difficult? Time to change tact. "I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. I believe you're descendants of George and Winifred Barnes. Is that correct?"

"Yeah. Why are you looking for us?" An older man piped up, coming closer to you. "What do you want?"

"Uncle Scott! You don't have to be rude!"

"Becca, you can't trust these people."

"I'm actually here about a member of your family." You looked directly at Scott. "Your mother's brother."

"My mother's brother? You mean my uncle? Uncle Bucky? Mom told us about him. He's dead. He was a World War 2 hero."

"Yes! Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 107th Infantry Regiment. He still is a hero.”

“You sound like you’re in love with a dead guy,” Becca snarked at you.

“Actually he isn’t dead. That’s why I’m here. He wants to meet you.”

“What?” Becca’s gasp was incredulous. “He would be well over a hundred years old!”

“One hundred and six to be exact!”

“So a dying man wants to meet his family? What has he been doing all this time? All these years nothing, and now suddenly on his deathbed he wants a family reunion?.”

“Becs,” Her uncle put a hand on her shoulder. It was nice to see the closeness of their relationship.

“Yeah about that. He isn’t dying. During the war, HYDRA… the Nazis took him prisoner. Everyone thought he was dead. They brainwashed him, kept him in cryostasis and only unfroze him to commit some horrific crimes. You may have read about him in the news a few years ago, the Winter Soldier? He isn't the man you have heard about. He is a veteran with some pretty severe PTSD. But he is a wonderful man, who wants to know his family. The question I have for you is; will you have him?”

“So it’s true? Uncle Bucky is the Winter Soldier?” Scott asked.

“He was. He isn’t anymore,” you reassured him.

“What does he want from us?” Becca looked at you with an element of suspicion.

“He wants to know his family. Almost everyone he knew died when he was taken prisoner."

"Why now?" Kimberly joined the conversation. "Hi, I'm Kim. This is my daughter Rebecca."

"You named her after your mom," you smiled.

Kim nodded. "She used to tell us stories about her big brother when we were kids. Usually when she wanted us to get along."

You laughed, Kimberly seemed a bit more relaxed and accepting of the situation.

"I think it might be a good idea for you to discuss this amongst yourselves before making a decision. Maybe you could call me or text me your decision?" You held out your card to Kimberly, but it was intercepted by Becca.

"Thanks, we'll get back to you."

You nodded. "Thank you for your time."

As you walked back to your car, you knew Bucky's sharp eyes followed every step. You tried to keep your expression neutral but you knew it wouldn't allay any of his anxiety.

"What happened?" The words left his lips before you'd even sat down.

"They said that they wanted to discuss it as a family and that they would let me know."

"So basically it's a 'no'."

"Bucky, that's not a 'no'. That's literally 'I'll think about it'."

"Which whenever my parents said it meant 'no'."

"Wow, parents haven't changed over the last hundred years," you muttered under your breath.

"I should have known this would happen." Bucky turned his head away and stared sullenly out of the window.

Becca had texted you after five agonizing days of you having to deal with an impatient and withdrawn Bucky. He had stopped sleeping again even though he denied that the nightmares had reared their ugly head, you knew it was eating away at him. One night you had woken up to find your bed empty and you’d eventually located Bucky lying on the floor on the living room rug staring at the ceiling. He had hustled you back to the bedroom, following you only because he knew you’d join him on the floor if he hadn’t insisted.

His grandniece’s text had been brief. A time, date and her address along with a brief comment that she would meet you and Bucky before either of you could see the family again.

On the day, you could tell he was trying his hardest to make a good impression. He had put on your favorite henley and a pair of dark blue jeans which you hadn’t seen before.

“When did you get those?” you asked as you shimmied into a pair of your most comfortable pants.

“I’ve always had these.” He turned away to hide his embarrassment, not wanting you to tease him for having gone out to buy something that wasn’t black. Sam had once pointed out that he was giving off vampire vibes with his wardrobe.

“You look very handsome,” you gave him a proud smile and quick peck on the cheek.

Bucky looked at himself in the full length mirror you’d made him install on the bedroom wall. You noticed how he tugged at his left sleeve, conscious of how much of his vibranium arm was on display. Bucky rarely wore short sleeves in the company of strangers and out in public to avoid looks of curiosity or disgust. That wasn’t the case when you were alone together, or with your friends, opting to wear t-shirts and sleeping topless.

You took his metal hand to stop his fidgeting. “You’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“I think you’ll find the two of you have a lot in common.”

“Oh you think she can relate to being a brainwashed assassin?”

“Sarcasm, check.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you.

“Eye-rolling, check.”

“Okay, okay. Shall we go?”

“Already?” you moaned before muttering under your breath. “And I thought I had a problem with arriving too early to places.”

“Come on,” he urged you to finish getting ready.

He let you drive which was a sure sign of his nerves. Bucky spent the whole drive nervously shaking his leg and staring vacantly out of the window. You hated seeing that look on his face, like his soul had somehow left his body and lost its way. Your deepest fear was that one day you’d lose him altogether. There was little time for you to dwell on that thought as you parked up outside Becca’s townhouse. The plan had been to sit in the car until the appropriate time before announcing yourselves, but your phone vibrated with a text from Becca telling you to come inside.

“Nice to see you again.” You held out your hand for Becca to shake.

Becca returned the formality, her eyes focused on the man standing close behind you. “Please, come in.” She turned and marched into the house before you’d had a chance to introduce Bucky.

You started to follow but Bucky held you back, looking unsure about Becca’s brusqueness.

“It’ll be alright, Buck. Come on,” you beckoned him to follow you.

Becca’s home was well lived. Family photographs littered the walls and you picked your way through a minefield of toys that were scattered across the floor. The décor seemed to be a mismatch of furniture from the late 60s and early 70s. The two of you followed her into the kitchen where she put the kitchen counter between herself and you.

“This place is really cozy, Becca.” You made an attempt to break the ice.

“It’s awful, don’t sugar coat it. The wallpaper is possibly the ugliest thing about this place. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to change it. What do you think?” Her question was directed at Bucky.

Bucky took a moment to think about his response. “It’s all very… loud.”

Becca laughed. “That’s exactly what Grandma used to say. She hated it. This used to be her house. Grandpa bought the wallpaper without telling her and she never had the heart to tell him to change it.” Becca’s explanation was all aimed at Bucky. “So you’re Uncle Bucky.”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered gruffly. “Your parents named you after her?”

“What gave it away?”

You sniggered. Her attitude was very similar to Bucky’s, every other comment dripping with snark or sarcasm.

“So why are you here?” Her question was abrupt and to the point.

It caught Bucky off guard slightly. You took his hand and nodded your encouragement. “Go on, it’s okay,”

“When I joined the army, I was a kid. Younger than you are now. I was going to war to be a hero for my country. I thought it was the greatest adventure of my life. Then my best friend showed up and for a while it was incredible. Then… I fell from a moving train, into a ravine and my life just stopped. They-” Bucky fell silent for a few moments, trying to find the words to continue his story. It was your supportive hand on his back that brought him back from the past threatening to overwhelm him. “They used me to do… horrible things. They… took my mind, I didn’t know who I was for years. Just their soldier. Steve saved me, but I… I just want to go home.”

You blinked the tears away from your eyes. Even though you instinctively knew what Bucky wanted, hearing him say the words out loud was heartbreaking. He squeezed your hand to let you know he was still with you.

Neither of you were sure what Becca’s thoughts had been when she had agreed to the meeting, but she seemed to have been rendered speechless.

You could tell her silence was making Bucky nervous, so you decided to break some of the tension. “Becca, you think I could put on some coffee?”

“Umm, yeah sure.”

You bustled around the unfamiliar kitchen, trying to locate everything you needed. It was obvious that Becca needed some time to process her thoughts, but it was just as clear that the silence was eating Bucky alive. It was only after you’d poured out three mugs of coffee that you felt it was time to push things.

“Hey Becca, how are you doing?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” She shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs from her thoughts. “Hang on, I have an idea.” Without further explanation, she disappeared from the kitchen.

“Give her a moment, Buck. It’s a lot to process.”

“Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee mostly because it was something to do. Doing meant that he wasn’t thinking. Thinking only led to pain.

Surprisingly Becca was back in a few moments. “Come.” One word was all she gave before disappearing into the living room. Bucky looked at you and you looked back at him before you followed. The room was even more cluttered than the hallway from an array of old fashioned furniture, to kids toys to a plasma screen television and play station. Becca patted the seat beside on the couch, inviting Bucky to sit beside her.

You carefully placed the three coffee mugs on the table and squeezed onto the end of the couch beside your boyfriend. Becca placed an old cloth bound book in Bucky’s lap.

"I thought you'd like to see this."

Bucky looked at his great niece quizzically but she said nothing, just motioned for him to open the book. He complied with her request, flipping open the cover. There was a large black and white photograph of a very happy looking woman in her wedding dress beside her clearly besotted brand new husband.

"Grandma always said that she put this in here first because it was the start of her new life, she felt like she was living again."

Bucky traced his fingers over the photograph, desperately reaching back into the past for a glimpse of what he had lost. Becca reached across his lap and turned the page. There on the next page were a few images which made Bucky gasp quietly. The first was a faded photo of George and Winifred Barnes. Under it were a couple of tatty and frayed photos which had been lovingly placed under the plastic film. Bucky’s eyes focused on the one of himself as a ten year old boy with his little sister sitting on his shoulders.

"She was still a kid when I-" Bucky's voice was thick with emotion. "It's so strange seeing her all grown up. I missed everything."

"Not everything. We're still here. If you're serious about this, why don't you come-" Becca stopped mid sentence as a small white ball of fur leapt up onto the back of the couch hissing and scratching. "Shit!" She jumped as sharp claws attached themselves into the material covering Bucky’s vibranium arm.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Becca tried to retrieve the tiny white cat that was clinging to Bucky.

"It's okay," Bucky extricated the feline from its clutches.

You had rescued the photo album from his lap in case of accidents.

"Thanks, Ace." Bucky whispered appreciatively. "So who is this fiery fellow?"

"That's Alpine, our stupid cat that hates all of us."

Bucky held the small white feline up to his eyeline, its blue eyes locking onto his as he was held by the scruff of his neck. They stared into each other's eyes until the cat finally relaxed and offered Bucky a small 'meow'. He lowered Alpine into his lap where the cat curled up and closed its eyes.

"What did you just do?" Becca asked, her jaw practically hanging on the floor.

You were equally as surprised, sitting quietly on the edge of the couch clutching the photo album to your chest to keep it safe.

Bucky shrugged, he reached out his hand to you so he could take back the album and keep looking through it. Becca talked him through each photograph. Bucky's eyes flicked between her face and the photos, listening so attentively all while his right hand was buried deep in Alpine's long white fur.

For the briefest of moments you felt a pang of jealousy. Bucky only ever looked at you with that much intent, that much interest and the thought of sharing that meant that you would be losing that part of him. You were glad that it was a fleeting moment, because you knew how much Bucky would gain from this and at the end of the day, you loved that for him, you rejoiced in his happiness, you loved him.

You spent the next few hours silently watching your boyfriend being the most engaged in an activity than you'd ever seen him. As tempting as it was to join in on the conversation, you knew this was something that was for him and him alone.

"Look, coming here for a day to look at photos is all well and good. But is this what you really want?" Becca asked suddenly.

Bucky’s face fell in an instant. Is this what he really wanted? Getting close to people and risking losing everything all over again?

"Because everyone is ready to have you, but once you're in, you're in. No running away, no hiding. No pretending like we don't exist when it doesn't suit you.

"I understand that you are still out there, doing good things and that you might be away. But when you're here, you have to be here. Are you ready for that?"

Bucky looked over at you, but you couldn't quite decipher his expression. "Buck?" you tilted your head slightly, trying to understand him.

"I would like that, please." Bucky turned back to Becca. "But I have one… request, please."

Becca raised her eyebrows, almost inviting him to test her limits. You admired Becca’s fire and the clear lengths she was going to to protect her family. Bucky would do the same.

Bucky took a deep breath before making his request. "I'd like for Ace to come."

Both yours and Becca’s eyes went wide. She recovered from her surprise faster than you. Her reaction was a little different from yours as she burst out laughing at him.

Alpine hissed, having been woken by Becca’s outburst.

"Shhh, it's okay. I think your mom finds me funny," Bucky cooed, scratching his little friend's ears.

Who was this Bucky sitting beside you, asking for his family to accept him and you and cuddling a feral cat.

"Oh, no no, that thing's not my child. It's the spawn of the devil!"

"Come on. He's not that bad."

"I have an idea. Why don't you keep her?"

"What? Wait-"

"No, it's perfect, look at her. She doesn't come anywhere near us and lashes out at me all the time. Look at this!" She pushed up her sleeves to show him the fading scratch marks on her arms. "She's going to a shelter if you don't."

Bucky looked over at you for permission. "Ace?"

"Hmmm?" You had stopped paying attention when he had asked Becca for you to be part of their family.

"Can we keep her?"

"What?"

"Alpine?"

How could you say no when he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes?

"You really want to?"

"Yeah," Bucky replied softly.

You nodded. "Then, yeah, we should keep her."

"And the other thing?"

"What's that thing you and Steve always say to each other? Oh yeah, I'm with you Buck, til the end of the line." You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his lips, avoiding the kitten he had cradled against his belly.

"So Becca, do you want to explain what you found so funny about my request?"

"It was funny that you felt the need to ask." She shook her head in disbelief. "What shocks me is that you two aren't already married."

Bucky’s cheeks flushed as you looked at him.

"It's alright. We're happy now." It was more of an empty reassurance, an attempt to take the pressure off Bucky. In reality you wanted nothing more than to be Bucky's wife but you weren't going to push him into a life he didn't want to lead, not after everything he had been through.

If he picked up on the sadness in your voice, he didn't say anything at that moment. He had no further chances as a cacophony of high pitched voices came floating in. "MOM!"

"And that's my actual spawn. Kids, come here. Say hi to your Uncle Bucky."

He received a chorus of greetings.

"This is my friend, Ace." Bucky introduced you.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Tommy, the youngest piped up.

"Yes," Bucky smiled, taking your hand proudly.

"How are you holding Alpine?" Sarah, the eldest, asked.

"She's sleeping."

"She doesn't let anyone hold her."

"Uncle Bucky is special. How would you guys feel if we let him and Ace take care of Alpine for us?"

"Will we be able to visit her?" Tommy asked.

"Any time." Bucky smiled.

You shot him a look to tell him off for making promises which would be hard to keep.

"Can we say bye?" Sarah sniffled.

"Yes, but no touching!" Becca warned.

After a few tearful farewells which were watched with disgust by Alpine, Becca brought out her carrier. The kids lead you through to another room to pick up what they thought were Alpine's favorite toys.

Becca opened the carrier door while Bucky placed the cat at the entrance.

"Good luck," she muttered.

"Get in pal, we're going home."

To Becca’s immense surprise, Alpine walked in of his own accord.

"Well, she definitely is meant for you."

"Thank you."

"You're doing me the favor."

"No, well yes, for Alpine. But thank you, for today. I-" Bucky had no idea how to express his gratitude for giving him back a connection to something he had lost so long ago. "Thank you."

"So Uncle Bucky-"

"You can just call me Bucky, you know?"

"I know." Becca smiled. "I also thought you might like this."

Bucky took the box Becca was holding out to him.

"It's some of Grams and Gramps's stuff. Your parents. You should have them."

"Becca-"

She threw her arms around Bucky's neck and whispered, "welcome home Uncle Bucky."

You came back to see Bucky gingerly returning her hug. He wasn't one for massive gestures of emotion, usually you and Steve were the only ones who he would hug, along with accepting Sam's enthusiastic shoulder grabs.

"Ready?" You asked him, having collected Alpine's essentials.

"Yeah."

"So we'll see you at the family picnic next week?" Becca smirked. "I know you already know the time and place."

Bucky blushed and nodded. "Thank you."

You let him carry Alpine and her things to the car and said your own goodbye to Becca. "Thanks for having us."

Bucky had strapped the carrier into the back seat so that it wouldn't topple at a sharp turn. It made you wonder how he would be as a father. Too soon to think about that.

You knew better than to bombarded him with questions, so you kept it simple. "Ready to go home?"

He smiled and nodded. As you pulled away, he opened the small box Becca had given him. Inside were a few photos and trinkets, but what caught Bucky's attention were the two wedding rings. He smiled. For the first time he thought about his future, your future together. Maybe he could have more, now that he had found you.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x you #buckybarnes x you #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #finding you #bucky x reader #bucky x fem!reader

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thebunnednun · 4 months

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Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Part 8)

Art by @xuchuan25

Summary:

You finally find the man that hid your 'half' brother so long ago. Only to find yourself in the unwanted advances of a Marine Captian. Making you beat his ass on base and by doing so, signing your death warrent, AGAIN! You already refused to become a warlord and sent your crew home so what was a wanted woman to do? Where were you to go? Mihawk can't just stand by and let his good friend take the fall, can he?

Notes:

TW: Ax Hang Morgan can't understand the word "No." So you stomp on his balls. We're a few chapters to the finish line!! Thank you to everyone for your support!! Also, I'ma lover of happy endings and cheesy crap so you better believe that this is chalk full.

________________Chapter 8: Perils of the Empress_________________

A bird circled overhead, its wings slicing through the clear blue sky before it swooped down to drop a letter into [Name]'s waiting hands. The paper was crisp, and the familiar, precise handwriting of Mihawk stood out sharply against the parchment. She eagerly tore open the envelope, her eyes scanning the contents.

"Captain, what does it say?" one of her crew members asked, curiosity piqued.

She began to read the letter in her mind, Mihawk's sarcastic tone almost palpable through the written words:

___________________

"[Name],

The man you seek is Admiral Garp. He’s currently stationed in Shells Town. Be wary of the Marines; they're not as incompetent as some might think. Also, other pirates frequent the area, and not all are as charming as I am.

Regards, Mihawk

P.S. Do try not to get caught." ___________________________

A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she rolled her eyes. Folding the letter neatly, she tucked it into her coat pocket and turned to face her crew. "Set sail for Shells Town," she commanded, her voice steady and authoritative. "And remember, we need to lay low. I’ll go in alone to find Admiral Garp."

The crew responded with a chorus of affirmations, their loyalty evident in their eager expressions. As they worked to prepare the ship, [Name] donned her cloak, the hood casting a shadow over her face and masking her identity. She glanced back at her crew, giving them a reassuring nod before stepping off the ship and into the bustling town.

The streets of Shells Town were alive with activity, vendors calling out their wares, children playing in the streets, and Marines patrolling the area. She changed into regular clothing, opting for a simple dress that allowed her to blend in. Her mask remained, a constant reminder of her need for discretion.

Posing as a Marine's wife, she approached the entrance to the Marine base, her heart pounding in her chest. "Excuse me," she said, her voice demure, "I’m here to see my husband. He works here, but I seem to have forgotten where his office is."

The guards exchanged glances, suspicion evident in their eyes. One of them, a burly man with a stern expression, stepped forward and scrutinized her closely. "What's your husband's name? And why haven't we seen you around before?"

Thinking quickly, [Name] lowered her mask just enough to reveal a charming smile. "Oh, you know how it is with us Marine wives, always traveling and rarely staying put in one place," she said with a light, melodic laugh. "But I assure you, I’m very real. Perhaps I could bring you all some fresh baked cookies later for doing such a good job?"

The guards' suspicion wavered at her offer, the tension easing from their shoulders. They exchanged a few uncertain glances before finally nodding.

"Alright, ma'am, you can go in," one of them said, stepping aside. "But don't cause any trouble."

"Of course not," she replied sweetly, pulling her mask back up and stepping into the base. The interior was a maze of corridors, each one looking much like the last. Her eyes scanned each door for a sign of Admiral Garp's office, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she moved deeper into the building.

Just as she thought she had found the right door, a tall, imposing figure cast a shadow over her. It was Ax-Hand Morgan, his piercing eyes locking onto her with suspicion.

"Who are you?" he demanded, stepping closer, his metallic ax-hand gleaming ominously in the dim light.

Thinking quickly, [Name] ducked behind the door, trying to find an escape route. But Morgan followed, closing the door behind him with a loud thud that echoed through the corridor. Trapped, she felt her heart race as she weighed her options.

"What are you doing here?" Morgan's voice was cold and menacing, his eyes narrowing as he took another step closer. Desperation surged within her, and she knew she had to act fast. She adjusted her stance, ready to defend herself if necessary, her mind racing to find a way out of this precarious situation.

[Name] sighed, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal her face. Her eyes met Morgan's, a calm determination in her gaze. "I have business with Admiral Garp," she stated evenly, "and I got lost looking for him." Morgan's eyes narrowed further, disbelief etched on his face. "Do you expect me to believe that?" he growled, moving to reach for a Den Den Mushi to call for more guards.

Before Morgan could call for reinforcements, the Den Den Mushi on his desk crackled to life. A panicked voice came through, "We found a pirate ship and its crew nearby! They match the descriptions of the wanted posters!" Morgan's attention shifted momentarily to the communication, giving [Name] the opportunity she needed. She quickly grabbed her own Den Den Mushi from her cloak and contacted her crew.

"Captain, what's happening?" her first mate's voice came through, filled with worry. "You need to leave, now," [Name] said firmly, her voice steady. "They've found you and the ship. Get out of there immediately."

"But Captain—"

"No," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You all have families. It was a mistake to come here. I love you all, and it's been an honor to sail with you. But now, you must go."

There was a pause on the other end, and then her first mate's voice, heavy with emotion, replied, "Should we call Buggy?"

"No," [Name] said quickly, glancing at Morgan who was still distracted. "Don't worry about me. We'll meet up in a few weeks. Just get to safety." Another pause, then a chorus of voices came through, all thanking her for being their captain and promising to follow her final order.

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart aching as she ended the call.

Morgan's focus returned to her, suspicion and anger clear in his expression. "What did you do?" he demanded.

"I made sure my crew is safe," she replied calmly, her eyes unwavering. "Now, can we get back to why I'm here? I need to see Admiral Garp."

Morgan's frustration was palpable, but he knew better than to underestimate the determined young woman standing before him.

Morgan's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized [Name]. A flash of recognition crossed his face as he locked onto her eyes. He reached for the old wanted poster from his desk, holding it up beside her face. "These eyes... You're the one from the poster, aren't you?"

[Name] glanced at the poster, then met Morgan's gaze without flinching. "I did take his body back," she admitted, her voice steady. "But I don't consider it stealing. I just wanted to give him a proper burial."

Morgan's lips curled into a sneer. "And you think you can just waltz in here and meet with Admiral Garp privately? Why would he want to see a pirate like you?" She set her jaw, refusing to divulge her reasons. "That's between me and the Admiral. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She turned to leave, reaching for the door, but Morgan moved swiftly, blocking her path.

"Not so fast," he growled, yanking her mask off. She slapped his hand away and jumped back, anger flashing in her eyes. Morgan's gaze roved over her face, a twisted admiration in his eyes. Ignoring his leering, [Name] slowly began to remove her cloak, her movements deliberate. "You really want to know why I need to see Garp?" she asked, her tone seductive as she played to his arrogance.

Her cloak fell away, revealing her outfit. A fitted, cropped jacket hugged her torso, with intricate embroidery running along the seams. Underneath, a sleeveless top exposed her midriff, paired with high-waisted pants that flared slightly at the bottom. Her belt, laden with various pouches and tools, held two machetes, their handles jutting out at her hips, ready for action.

Morgan's eyes widened as he took in her appearance. "Impressive," he murmured, stepping closer, his arrogance growing. "But I still don't believe you."

"You should," she replied, a dangerous edge to her voice. "I'm not here to play games." Morgan's sneer deepened. "Then why are you here?"

"That's for me to know," she said, her tone losing its seductive edge and turning serious. "And Garp is the only one who I will speak with."

"Why should I believe you?" he demanded, blocking her escape. "Believe what you want," she snapped, stepping forward defiantly. "But get out of my way." Morgan reached for her, but she was faster, her hand flying to the hilt of her machete. "Don't make me use this," she warned, her eyes flashing. He paused, clearly reconsidering his approach. "You're not leaving this room until I get some answers."

"Fine," she said, tightening her grip on the machete. "You want answers? Here's one. I'm not afraid of you, or anyone else in this building. And if you don't let me pass, you'll find out exactly why I'm wanted." Morgan's gaze flickered with uncertainty, but he held his ground. "You're not in control here." She smirked, her confidence unwavering. "That's where you're wrong. I'm always in control." With a swift motion, she drew her machete, the blade glinting in the light.

The tension in the room was palpable, both of them locked in a silent standoff.

Morgan blocked the door again, his demeanor turning darker. "A beautiful woman like you isn’t fit for a life at sea, although you do make it look good," he said, his eyes trailing up and down her form.

[Name] felt a wave of disgust but remained in control. She knew she had only a few minutes before Garp would round this hallway. She needed to act fast. "Oh, please," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Is that supposed to flatter me? Because it sounds more like a desperate plea."

Morgan’s expression tightened. "I have a better solution," he said, stepping closer. "If you agree to go out with me, I could take your posters down in town. Or better yet, if you agree to become mine, I'll declare you dead."

She laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Wow, Morgan. You really know how to make a girl swoon," she said sarcastically. "But I don’t care about your offers. I’m leaving with or without your permission."

Morgan’s eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam in them. "You’re really something," he said, advancing on her. "It’s a wonder how you’ve evaded the Marines for so long."

She met his gaze with cold disdain. "Maybe it’s because the Marines aren’t as smart as they think they are."

Morgan’s face contorted in anger, but then he chuckled. "I like a little spitfire in my life," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. [Name] slapped his hand away and stepped back. "Don’t touch me unless you want to get burned."

His fury exploded, and he lunged at her. [Name] moved swiftly, her training kicking in. She punched him in the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking under her knuckles. She followed up with another punch, then kicked him hard, sending him sprawling.

Outside the door, the commotion attracted the attention of other Marines. They approached cautiously, only for the door to explode open with Morgan flying through it. He crashed against the opposite wall, sliding down in a heap. They ran towards their boss, confused, and peered at the now-broken door.

[Name] stepped into the doorway, holding Morgan’s prosthetic arm. She looked at the Marines, their faces a mix of shock and confusion, and smiled. "Anyone else want to play hero?" she taunted. The young Marines shook their heads, some backing away, their fear palpable.

She took a step forward, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Okay, now that that's over, would someone mind getting me to the yard, please?" she said, her tone cheerful and polite.

With cautious glances at each other, the Marines parted, giving her a clear path. She hoisted Morgan up and dragged him out to the yard. The sun was high in the sky, casting harsh shadows on the ground. The Marines followed at a distance, whispering among themselves. [Name] tied Morgan up, securing him tightly with rope, and spanked him with his own prosthetic arm in front of his soldiers. Once she felt satisfied, she threw the ax down at his feet. Blood oozed from his wounds, staining the ground beneath him.

"This is what happens when you allow yourself to become corrupt," she announced loudly, ensuring everyone could hear. Her voice was clear and authoritative, carrying the weight of her conviction. "Remember, the Marines are supposed to protect, not prey on the innocent."

She stood over him, her eyes blazing with anger and determination. "I’m looking for Admiral Garp. Point me in his direction, and I’ll be on my way."

The yard fell silent, the tension thick in the air. The Marines looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Then, a voice broke through the silence.

"Right here, lassie," said Admiral Garp, his voice carrying a mixture of amusement and authority.

[Name] turned to see the younger cadets had parted to reveal Garp standing with Bogard by his side in the crowd. Garp’s eyes twinkled with a hint of a smile. "Morgan, how’s it hanging up there?" he asked with a grin.

Garp walked over to [Name], offering her his elbow. "Let’s take a walk," he said, his tone kind but firm. She accepted his arm, and they began to walk away from the yard.

As they walked, Garp glanced at her. "You’ve certainly made an impression," he said with a chuckle.

[Name] nodded, her mind still buzzing from the encounter. "I didn’t have much choice," she replied. "But I need your help, Admiral."

Garp’s expression turned serious. "I figured as much. Let’s find a place to talk."

[Name] nodded, her mind still buzzing from the encounter. "I didn’t have much choice," she replied. "But I need your help, Admiral."

Garp’s expression turned serious. "I figured as much. Let’s find a place to talk."

A voice called out from the crowd, "Right here, lassie," before turning to see Garp and Bogard. He looked at Morgan, who was barely conscious. "How's he doing up there?" Garp asked with a bark of laughter.

Garp approached her, offering his elbow. "Shall we?"

[Name] nodded, taking his elbow as he led her away from the yard. "Bogard, take care of the situation," Garp ordered over his shoulder.

As they walked, [Name] looked up at Garp. "So, Admiral, how’s your morning been?"

Garp chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Exactly as described," he said.

[Name] furrowed her brow, confused. "Described? By whom?"

Garp led her to a heavy wooden door, still chuckling. "A little birdie spoke fondly of you," he said, opening the door.

Realization dawned on [Name], and she rolled her eyes. "Mihawk! More like a big, nosy bird," she muttered.

Garp’s laughter grew louder as he ushered her into a dimly lit office. "He’s got a sharp eye, that one."

Inside, the office was filled with shelves of books and nautical charts, with a large desk dominating the center. Garp gestured to the chair behind the desk. "Please, take a seat."

[Name] shook her head, starting to refuse politely. "I just retired my crew, Admiral. It doesn’t feel right."

Garp’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Retired your crew? What do you mean?"

She sighed, leaning against the desk instead. "I didn’t want Morgan to persecute them. I’m not a liar, so I ‘temporarily’ laid them off before engaging in combat."

Garp’s expression softened, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "I see. I apologize for Morgan’s behavior. I’ll see to it that he’s severely punished. But it looks like you did a good job handling him yourself."

[Name] chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Thank you, Admiral. But I have to ask—why haven’t you arrested me? Why did you want to meet with me?"

Garp insisted again, his tone gentle but firm. "Please, take the seat behind the desk."

Reluctantly, she complied, settling into the chair. Garp sat opposite her, his expression turning serious. "I had a relationship with Gold Roger and Rouge. They were good people, despite everything." As you begin to tell him the story of your upbringing Garp listens with interest. He leaned back, his gaze distant before pausing, studying her closely. "I remember you from the day of the execution."

"I was hoping it was you."

[Name] nodded slowly. "Yes. And I think you might be the only Marine I can trust."

Garp smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Thank you, that means a lot." His eyes offer you a warmth that rises in your chest and settles pleasantly in your heart.

"I took Ace away to be raised by some trusted friends. He should be almost twenty now."

[Name] leaned forward, her eyes intense. "I need to find him, Admiral. I made a promise to Roger and Rouge, and I won't break it."

Garp nodded, his eyes softening. "I understand." He shifted upright in his seat before continuing. "Ace is currently in Alabasta. I’ll give you my blessing to find him, but remember to continue pursuing the rest of your dreams."

Garp’s expression turned somber. "There’s one more thing. Due to what happened today, I can’t keep everything under wraps. Taking Roger’s body and assaulting a Marine captain will only increase your bounty."

[Name] laughed, a fearless glint in her eyes. "I don’t fear the World Government, Garp."

He shook his head, a mixture of admiration and concern in his eyes. "You’re something else. Come here."

He opened his arms, and [Name] stood from the chair to run around the desk before she stepped into his embrace. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and she felt a warmth spread through her as he hugged her tightly.

"Thank you for being a bright light in this world," Garp said softly. It felt like hugging the worlds buffest grandpa and she almost giggled out loud.

She smiled and pulled back. "Thank you, Admiral."

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps filled the hallway. The Marine guards were coming to arrest her. She straightened, giving Garp a nod before walking out of the office.

As she passed through the yard, she saw Morgan still tied up, glaring at her with a mix of rage and humiliation. [Name] couldn’t help but smile, a sense of satisfaction warming her from the inside. She walked past him waving and smiling before finding her way out of the base, her steps light and purposeful.

Once outside, she realized she had no boat to get to Alabasta. She looked around the bustling port town, pondering if she could find passage with a fisherman. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice someone approaching until they were right beside her.

[Name] stepped out of the Marine base, her mind racing with thoughts of what had just transpired. As she pondered her next move, a familiar voice called out to her.

"Looking for a ride, Empress?"

S[Name] stepped out of the Marine base, her thoughts a whirlwind of the morning's events. As she pondered her next move, a familiar, low voice called out to her, cutting through her reverie.

"Looking for a ride, Captain?"

She turned to see Mihawk leaning casually against a wall, his piercing golden eyes watching her intently. His usual stoic demeanor was softened by a hint of a smile that made her heart skip a beat. He pushed off the wall and walked toward her, his gaze never leaving her face.

"Care to join me for some coffee and pie?" he asked, knowing she didn’t drink alcohol.

A mix of relief and curiosity washed over her as she nodded. "Sure, why not?"

They walked to a small café nearby, the atmosphere bustling with people going about their day. Mihawk ordered coffee and pie for both of them, his presence commanding yet surprisingly comforting. Once they were seated, [Name] began recounting the events of the morning, her voice a blend of frustration and amusement.

"And then I just walked out of there," she concluded, taking a sip of her coffee. The rich aroma and warmth provided a brief respite from the chaos of her thoughts.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Oh no, really?" he teased, his tone dripping with mock concern.

She kicked him under the table, a playful glint in her eyes. He sent her a soft, amused smirk in return, the brief contact sending a jolt of warmth through her.

"You need to be more careful," he gently chided, his voice low and earnest.

"I know," she admitted, a bit of frustration seeping into her voice. "But I’ve been through worse."

"Are you okay?" he asked, his tone sincere, his golden eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

She sighed, feeling the weight of her recent decisions pressing down on her. "I’m tired, Mihawk. Tired of the way the world is, how disgusting and cruel everything is. The world is going to shit."

Mihawk took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving her face. "Are you going to keep your crew temporarily laid off?"

She nodded, the burden of leadership heavy on her shoulders. "I love adventuring, but I don’t want them to get hurt in this mess. But I also don’t want to go alone."

He leaned back in his chair, studying her intently. "What’s the point of finding Ace?"

"I want to make sure there’s good in him and take him with me on adventures," she replied, her eyes shining with determination. "Buggy and Shanks will always be my brothers, and Ace will either be my son or my brother."

Mihawk's expression softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "Do you still want a family one day?"

She smiled wistfully, her heart aching with the weight of her dreams. "Buggy and Shanks will always be my brothers, and Ace... he’ll be part of my family. But as for a traditional family, I don’t know. The world is too chaotic right now."

He looked at her thoughtfully, his gaze intense. "And where do I fit in all this?"

She met his gaze, her eyes warm and sincere. "You’re my best friend."

There was a pause, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions. Mihawk considered her words carefully. "Where are you going to live?"

She shrugged, feeling the uncertainty of her future pressing in. "I’ll convert my ship or stash it somewhere. I can’t leave it on my home island and sail the Grand Line in a little boat back here."

Mihawk placed his hand over hers, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down her spine. He took his hat off so she would look into his eyes. "Would you stay with me until you decide what you want to do?"

She began to politely decline, her voice soft. "I couldn’t impose—"

Mihawk interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You could never impose on my life."

She leaned back, her hand still in his, and gave him a slight smile, her heart racing. "What does the young warlord want in exchange?"

Mihawk’s gaze softened as he looked her over, his mind filled with unspoken thoughts. "Whatever the young empress wants."

She thought for a moment, weighing her options, her heart pounding in her chest. "How about I run your household when you’re away?"

Mihawk nodded in agreement, a rare smile gracing his lips. "Deal." They shook their joined hands together to seal the agreement. Mihawk was silent for a moment, studying her soft, smaller hand in his rough and larger palm. His eyes met hers with an expression she hadn't learned to read yet.

"Something wrong?" she asked, her voice softer now, more intimate.

Mihawk used his foot to pull her chair closer to his, the distance between them shrinking, the air thick with unspoken tension. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. "I wanted to do that properly," he said, his voice low and sincere.

[Name]'s cheeks and ears flushed all the way to her nose, the warmth spreading across her face as she tried to keep her cool. "Cheeky ass Robin," she muttered, but the teasing edge in her voice was softened by the tenderness of the moment.

She reached out with her free hand and pinched his whiskered cheek, her touch light but playful, trying to mask the fluttering in her chest. Despite her efforts to maintain composure, she didn’t pull her hand away, keeping their hands joined together. His neck was turning a soft pink color that reached just under his defined jaw line.

Mihawk's sly smirk grew, his eyes never leaving hers. "Is that all you’ve got?" he teased, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something deeper.

"You wanna find out?~" she shot back, her voice steadier now, though the blush remained on her cheeks. Her fingers intertwined with his, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between them.

The café around them seemed to fade away, the bustling noise of the world outside reduced to a distant hum. It was as if they were in their own bubble, the rest of the world forgotten. Mihawk’s thumb brushed gently over the back of her hand, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Why do you trust me?" she asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air between them.

Mihawk’s expression softened further, a rare vulnerability showing in his eyes. "Because I see in you what I’ve longed to see in others: strength, integrity, and a heart that refuses to be hardened by this world."

She looked down for a moment, processing his words, before meeting his gaze again. "I’ve seen the worst of what this world can offer," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I’ve also seen the best, and I want to believe that there’s more good out there."

"There might be," Mihawk said firmly, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. "You’re proof of that."

For a moment, they simply sat there, holding each other's gaze, the intensity of the connection between them almost overwhelming. Then Mihawk’s lips curved into a softer, more genuine smile. "Stay with me," he repeated, his voice gentle yet insistent.

She took a deep breath, the weight of her decisions pressing down on her, but in that moment, the certainty in Mihawk’s eyes gave her strength. "Alright," she agreed softly. "But only if you promise not to make that stuffed bird face too much."

"Only if you continue to be yourself in my presence," Mihawk replied, his tone is serious yet filled with a warmth that made her heart skip a beat.

She smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation flooding through her. "Deal," she said, echoing their earlier words.

They sat there for a few more moments, their hands still joined, before Mihawk finally called over the waiter to pay the tab. "Where are we going?" she asked as they stood up.

"To find your little one," Mihawk replied, for once his eyes were gentle with determination.

As they made their way to the docks to catch up with her crew, she reached up and stole his hat, placing it on her head with a mischievous grin. Mihawk chuckled, shaking his head as they walked side by side, ready to face whatever lay ahead together.

__________________________________________________________

Meeting Ace for the first time was a mix of emotions for [Name]. She was both nervous and excited as she stood before the young man who bore such a striking resemblance to his mother, Rouge. When she told Ace about his birth parents, her voice was gentle and filled with compassion. She explained how he looked like his mother sometimes, especially in his eyes and his smile.

Ace listened intently, his expression a blend of curiosity and skepticism. The revelation about his father, Gol D. Roger, was met with visible resentment. Ace struggled with the knowledge that his father was the Pirate King, a man he felt he could never live up to. He had spent much of his life trying to carve out his own identity, separate from the legacy of a father he barely knew but felt a heavy burden from.

In an attempt to cope, Ace introduced [Name] to his brothers, Sabo and Luffy. Sabo, with his calm demeanor and steadfast loyalty, and Luffy, with his boundless energy and unwavering optimism, both welcomed [Name] with open arms. The bond between the ASL brothers was clear, and [Name] felt an instant connection with them, her nurturing nature coming to the forefront.

When the rest of the Straw Hat crew met [Name], there was a mix of surprise and admiration. Zoro, in particular, recognized Mihawk immediately. He mentioned how [Name] had left once she heard about the world government's plan to execute Ace. She had been willing to exchange herself for him, a selfless act that earned the respect of everyone present.

The plan to fake Ace's and Whitebeard's deaths was a carefully orchestrated operation involving Shanks and Buggy. [Name] explained how they had managed to pull it off, with Shanks and Buggy playing crucial roles in the deception. The world believed that Ace and Whitebeard had perished, allowing them to live under the radar. This revelation explained Ace's presence in the bar later, alive and well.

[Name] and Ace hung out often, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. She enjoyed big-sistering and mothering the ASL brothers, finding joy in their antics and their unwavering loyalty to one another. When Shanks adopted Uta, [Name] was overjoyed. She treated Uta with the same love and care she showed the ASL brothers. Despite not telling Buggy initially, he didn't mind and came to love their daughter deeply.

The happiness [Name] felt in these moments was a testament to the family she had built around her, a patchwork of pirates, outcasts, and misfits who had come together to support one another. It was a reminder that even in a world as chaotic and cruel as theirs, there was still room for love.

The next two years with Mihawk were filled with unexpected warmth and joy. [Name] and Mihawk quickly fell into a rhythm that made it hard to remember how they had ever lived without each other. Their days were a blend of training, adventure, and quiet moments that became the foundation of their bond.

The arrival of Perona brought a new dynamic to their lives. Following the death of her father, Perona was lost and grieving. [Name] took it upon herself to comfort the young girl, offering her a place to stay and a shoulder to cry on. Perona, initially wary and prickly, gradually softened under [Name]’s gentle care. She grew to love the time she spent with [Name] and Mihawk, finding a new family in the unlikely pair.

The two years with [Name] were a period of transformation for Mihawk. She taught him to embrace the warmth of companionship, to find joy in the little things, and to open his heart to the possibility of love. As they navigated the challenges and triumphs together, Mihawk realized that his life was infinitely better with [Name] in it. And with each passing day, the desire to make her his forever grew stronger, filling his heart with a hope and happiness he had never known before.

Mihawk, who had always valued his personal space, found it increasingly invaded. Yet, to his surprise, he didn't mind when it was [Name] doing the invading. She brought a brightness to his otherwise bleak and solitary life, a light that he found himself craving more and more. Her laughter echoed through the halls of his castle, her presence a constant source of comfort and joy.

It wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated Mihawk, though he did find her lovely in every sense of the word. It was the beauty of her soul, her kindness, her strength, and her unwavering spirit that truly enchanted him. She had a way of seeing the good in everything and everyone, a quality that made Mihawk's world seem a little less dark.

Many nights, Mihawk would lie awake, his thoughts consumed by [Name]. He wondered what it would be like to ask her to stay forever, to make their arrangement permanent. The idea of a life without her now seemed unbearable. She had become an integral part of his existence, and the thought of losing her was something he couldn't entertain.

Mihawk often found himself falling asleep to the sound of her breathing beside him, dreaming of a future where they could be together always. He imagined the conversations they would have, the adventures they would share, and the love that would continue to grow between them. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that [Name] was not just a passing presence in his life, but a permanent one.

______________________________________________________________

That brings us to the present story now!

CHapter 6

Chapter 7

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have other one piece fanfics posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

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I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!~ <<33

26 notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 1 year

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Public sex w 50’s Elvis? Like Im talking real dirty and lots of dirty talk

Aaand angry sex w Sebastian Kydd? Maybe reader accuses him of cheating w donna and they have an argument to which he fucks the idea out of her head? 🤭

elvis is definitely a vocal lover, and the idea of him being desperate in public? sign me up, baby.

elvis loves letting other people know that you are taken whilst in public. he has no qualms about public displays of affection. towards the beginning of your relationship, back when the both of you were still in high school, you were a lot more shy about the constant grabbing, kissing and groping. still, you find your face getting hot and knees going weak every time he leans in to whisper how much he wants you. he loves getting this sort of reaction out of you- adores reducing you into nothing but a sweet, blushing lil thing.

elvis loves showing you off when the two of you are in public. your parents were always so strict about the two of you going steady back when the two of you were young. your overly religious parents are terrified that you'll get pregnant out of wedlock, but if they knew half the things that he did to their precious lil' daughter behind the graceland gates. . . well, he knew they'd probably lock you up in their house and throw away the key. his mouth is filthy when the two of you have sex. he lets you know that he loves the idea of actually getting you pregnant- filling you up until he's spilling out of you. he was raised better than that though, and he has every intention of marrying you. his parents would be mortified if he didn't make an honest woman of you.

elvis knows that he's possessive when you're around other men in public settings. with him being an up and coming musician, he's invited to a good many events, which he happily drags you along to as well. it's difficult for him to be without you for hours at a time, especially when your parents let you spend weeks at a time with him at graceland (his parents being under the same roof as the two of you is a comfort to them). any time he sees a man's eyes linger on you for longer than he's comfortable with he can't help but breeze over, long and calloused fingers closing around your hip so that he can pull you into his side. "i see you've met my girl. i'm elvis presley by the way- i don't think we've met before." he's quick to introduce, lips pulled up into a perfect smile. he can't let his temper win in this sort of setting, especially with so many radio hosts, managers and big time producers in the same room.

elvis makes sure to press you against him, not caring how appalled some people might be since the two of you are still in public. he likes putting on a show for others. the two of you have been dating for years, anyway. if he wants to hold you in public like this. . . he'll be damned if someone tries to tell him 'no'. he knows most people brush off his bold behavior with you as him being a musician- an artist. everyone is drinking and merrymaking all around him, while all he can think about is getting pussy-drunk. if it was up to him he'd still be laid up in bed, making quick work of the pretty little dress you'd slipped on tonight. he presses his lips against the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver against his warm breath. "don't you have to go check your makeup or something?" he's desperate to get you to the powder room. he'll use any excuse. surely the colonel wouldn't notice if he was gone for fifteen. . . maybe twenty minutes. just long enough to get a proper taste of you.

elvis doesn't even wait for your reply before he's pulling you off in the direction of the very public bathroom. a woman who's emerging from the door nearly crashes into the two of you, her eyes flying wide open in shock. "'cuse' me, ma'am." elvis mumbles, not even bothering to make any of this look less obvious. he's already closing the door behind you before she can get a good look at the dark flush on your face. "elvis! w-what if she starts tellin' people that i'm some sorta floozy!" you're whisper-yelling, giving his chest a small smack. "this isn't the first time we've done somethin' like this, honey." he tries to assure you. it's too late to stop him now, he's already kissing down your neck, pushing your skirt up with hurried hands. he practically groans when he feels your stockings, giving the straps of the garter belt you have fastened a small tug with his pointer fingers. your teeth bite hard into your lower lip as the elastic slaps against the sensitive skin of your thighs.

elvis, if he was being honest with himself, is a bit of an exhibitionist. he can hear the chatter from the public just outside the door. he knows there will probably be a long line of women waiting to use the washroom by the time he's done, but he doesn't mind. they can wait. if it was up to the ivory haired man then he'd be taking you anywhere. . . anytime. "i'm fixin' to burst, baby. please." he knows he's playing dirty. you always give in when he begs like this. his blue eyes are locked on your pretty lil features, long eyelashes fluttering as he searches your eyes. his mouth waters when you finally lean back against the sink, spreading your legs for him. he moves your panties to the side, loving the idea of being able to see your slick later tonight when he removes them. there's something earth shatteringly hot about the idea of seeing the mess that the two of you make. he'll be more careful about using protection the next time the two of you have sex. for now, the idea of you walking around and talking to the stuck up squares at this party with panties soaked with the two of you is far too appealing.

#foreverdolly #elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley headcanon #elvis the pelvis #elvis fic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis 2022 #sweet nonnie #elvis baz luhrmann

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

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For Thirst Trap Thursday could you do Dick with a reader thats normally obedient and not bratty at all, one night something gets into her and she’s being super bratty 🪷 (you said just a bit ago that you used to get anons that signed with emojis maybe we can bring that back? If you want of course)

"You're not the boss of me-"

"Excuse me?" Dick said, folding his arms. All night long you'd been in a snit. Not listening, batting his hands away.

"I've got it. It's fine. You don't have to-"

"That," he purred, stepping forward and grabbing your chin. Forcing you to look at him. If you were going to be a brat, he didn't want you to hold back. "Is not what you said, baby girl."

"And it's true."

"Oh yeah?" he said, talking you back against the wall. "I'm not the boss of you, huh?"

"You're not."

And DIck smirked. "My poor baby," he teased. "You think you can do it all alone huh? Think you don't need me anymore?"

"Dick-"

"I think you're getting a little to big for your boots, ma'am," he tutted. "Keep it up, sweetie. I'll remind you."

#Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson x reader #softdom!dick #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #thirst trap thursday

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echoedcrosshairs · 1 year

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Foxglove ~ Commander Fox x F reader (part 3)

According the language of flowers Foxglove symbolizes riddles, conundrums and secrets along with ambition and creativity.

Summary: A small fancy caff shops pops up in the senate building. Commander Fox is not amused.

Slow burn, enemies? to lovers, Commander Fox x reader, Commander Thorn x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, Smut, implied smut, cannon violence and talks of cannon related violence.

Part 2 Part 4

Masterlist

3.9k

Mando’a: guuror (be fond of a person) kar’taylir (hold in the heart) ~> a Crush

Rex and Kix kept you behind them as they entered the hall which seemed to aggravate Fox further. Kix pulled you aside away from the tantrum unfolding suggesting the both of you put up the signs so they can deal with him. You nodded stunned, you stared at Kix and then at Fox a moment of fear filling your face. Their clones, thinking the word made your stomach turn, what if Kix is like that? No Kix watches sappy romance movies with me and ask to kiss him, he's nothing like Fox. The thought soothed you as you started walking.

Kix grabbed the stack of papers, "The commander will be fine, he's just use to getting his way," handing you part of them.

"I hope so."

Both of you moved mindlessly attaching the posters here and there. It was an adventure within itself exploring the lower levels of senate building seeing where the other shock troopers were stationed, many took tiny stacks of peoples to post around the barracks and other local clone areas. The gesture gave you a little pep in your step as the both of you finished putting up the posters by lunch. You heard a beep automatically taking your pad laughing when it turned out to be Kix's, "Their all waiting in the Cafe with lunch."

"I'm starving," you admitted.

"You should have said something, I always have ration bars...." He remembered you've never tried the grime they got for nutrition, as equally balanced as it was it was still bland.

"Their delicious, I like the yellow ones," the comment caught him guard but he kept his mouth shut.

Kix kept the appropriate distance away from you as the rest of the soldiers broke apart for lunch, appearing to me your guard as you took yourselves back to the commander's wing. He pulled out your chair before taking his own. Their was trooper food for the five of you, he watched you dig in without being phased.

"You know there's real food down the hall," Thorn said arching an eyebrow at the sight.

"This is fine," you shrugged, "More then enough for me. Working in filing you don't really get a lunch, you eat when and if you can," you admitted.

"It will probably be more calories then your body needs at one time," Fox said.

You choked on your bite of you, "Excuse you?"

"Fox is saying this is nutritionally made for us, we consume twice to three times what the average person does to keep up with our output on duty. Long story short, you might feel sick as it is denser then it appears," Kix said calmly.

I'm pretty sure that was not what he meant, but you bit your tongue. You put down the food walking around the counter grabbing yourself a cup of water before returning to your seat finding Rex on a call.

"Yes, General," he nodded shutting off the holo interface.

"Gotta go?" You asked.

"Before first light, I can still stay for a movie or two before I have to head back to the barracks theoretically we should only be gone a couple days but with General Skywalker and the war can't be sure."

You nodded, "Be safe," letting them get back to eating in the awkward silence. Rex gathered all of the trays motioning for Kix to follow him, "We'll get out of your hair for now, Ma'am, look forward to seeing this open when we return."

"Ma'am," Kix nodded returning the formal gesture, "I'll be here when you get off work."

When they walked off you looked at Thorn and Fox still sitting at the table, "Caf?" you asked.

"I would love some," Thorn spoke up.

"I would... appreciate a cup," Fox said eyeing you, you had sat eating food that was below you and didn't even seemed phased when Rex told you they had to leave. He eyes your movements, you didn't flatter in any of your movements. Is she putting on a brave face or did meeting us change her? He mentally scowled himself for his curiosity. Fox noticed you wouldn't look at him as you handed him the cup, "I am sorry about my outburst earlier," he mumbled.

"What was it about?" you asked flatly handing Thorn his.

"Discretion."

"Ah. Thank you for the concern, Commander."

"Well we're going to get back to work," Thorn said giving him a little nudge towards the door.

You patiently waited at the table for the droid to shove up with some of the last shipments of the menu selection for the wall and some mild soldier decor for the bland walls. The rest of the day went by in flash getting everything set up for the grand opening tomorrow even cutting out a tiny section for a break room office for overstock storage if you needed a moment alone. Smiling you looked at the finished product wiping the sweat off your forehead. Hearing several footsteps behind you, "We're not open yet" you barely got turned around before your hand almost dropped your drink, "Chancellor Palpatine, it is an honor." You watched the man eye the room noticing Fox, Thorn and a few other guards you met in passing clustered around him escorting him.

"This is simply tremendous, I can not help but marvel at how fast you accomplished this."

"The senate worked light speed for this to be approved, I simply wished to be able to show you all my gratitude but moving just as fast."

"You mind if I tried something?" he asked.

"Anything you want, Chancellor," you smiled.

He opted for the Mocha, your stomach fell at it was the only thing on the menu you had yet to taste yourself. You made it for him trying to keep the shake out of your hand from being detected as you handed it to him. The moment he smiled after taking a sip you exhaled, "I hope it is to your liking."

"This is delicious and this is made with the soldiers caf?" he asked looking at the cup.

"Any coffee can taste good depending on how you tend to it while it's developing it's flavor profile."

"I look forward to tasting more of your work," he smiled, "I'll see you at the opening. "

You left like someone was in your heart having a speeder race, the moment they left you grabbed yourself a cup of cold water the trembling shaking the water over the lip of the cup splashing over the counter. The chancellor took time out of his schedule to show up and is coming back? Your mind wouldn't quiet racing you sat yourself against the wall as your legs turned to putty underneath you, the weight and reality of it all colliding together in explosions. Eventually you started hyperventilating and passed out.

Kix waited outside the building not want to disturb Fox further with his presence when he saw a Coruscant ambulance pull up, he was shouted at to hurry up and get into realizing the injury as at the commanders wing. He allowed training to take over, taking the stairs a few at a time at the elevator was busy. He found Thorn and Fox's offices empty and his stomach fell.

"How long has she been out?" He asked striping the pack off his back.

"I don't know, we escorted the Chancellor here an hour ago and when we got back she was out," Thorn said.

"She will be fine," Kix confirmed, "I am assuming she overworked herself," he looked up to see Fox ushering the other medics away, glaring at him as he did it, "Her electrolytes are down and her oxygen level is two points below average," reflexive Kix tugged your feet down so you were laying flat on the floor, "more then likely due to the odd way she passed out. There no sign of any ailments," he tugged one of his various stims out of his pack over inserting into your leg, "It should be a few more minutes." The minutes always felt like hours to him as he waited either it was something as simple as fixing a broken nose or a major wound. "Thank you, Commander Fox," Kix said noticing him on the outskirts of the room watching telling the other medics the situation was under control.

Fox rolled his eyes not bothering with a comeback, "How long did you keep her up?" he snapped noticing you still weren't moving.

"We finished the movie, watched the sequel and passed out. That's it."

"Sure."

"I don't fuck on the first date."

"Not you too," Thorn groaned.

"Apologizes, I am not a fan of having my character questioned."

"Alwaysa'gentleman," you breathed trying to sit up feeling Kix's firm hands push you back down, "You passed out, you need to take it slow," he said keeping you from getting up, "How are you feeling"

"I am one with the floor," you muttered feeling pain in your back from its cold flat surface, Kix chuckle but begrudgingly pulled you up into a sitting position, "What happened?" you asked.

"Di'kut, you over did it and passed out," Fox grumbled walking into the room, "What were you thinking?"

"As the medic... I outrank you, do not aggravate my patient or you will be ask to leave."

"Di'kut?" You asked ignoring him, the word foreign on your tongue.

"Idiot."

Kix carefully helped you stand up feeling like a glass doll, "You're done for the day, the place is as perfect as it is going to get."

"But-"

"No, your done," Fox growled, "Thanks for the paperwork," Kix shot him a glare, "I'm walking with both of you," Fox added, "So grab your stuff."

You arched an eyebrow but dug out what little you typically brought to work meeting both of them at the door, "Night, Thorn!" The two men took their respective distances as you moved through the building. It was barely perceptible but you saw Fox hanging a little closer. There were several scowls as the three of you moved down the street, you noticed more No Clone's signs and it made your stomach crawl and threaten to come up. The audacity of people here in the inner worlds.

"How are you feeling?" Kix said nonchalantly taking out his scanner seeing your vitals almost return to normal.

"Honestly, I could use a shower, a nap and a huge cup of coffee not in any particular order."

"No coffee, your sleeping," Fox stated.

"Yes, sir," you giggled, "Honestly sleep sounds so good."

"We can just sleep," Kix whispered.

"I'd like that."

Fox stayed quiet, wanting to tell her to cancel tonight but having a medic there would be beneficial if anything other complications arose. He drifted back to regulatory distance when he noticed he was out of sync with Kix. He was relatively silent the rest of the way to your apartment besides the occasional grunt when Kix had tried to include him in the conversation about holofilms.

"Make sure she gets rest," Fox said eyeing up and down, seeing that your color had fully returned, "Expect me to be here in the morning."

"Is that really necessary?" you asked.

"It's not negotiable," Fox turned leaving with the Medic and headed back to the guard building, why did I say I was going to meet her in the morning? Farking civvie. Fox remembered the paperwork he now how to fill out groaning but thankfully Kix had been there so it only was about half of the normal load for an incident. The walk back to the building seemed emptier then normal, the usual glares and occasional comment against clones but something about it just left... off and he couldn't put his thumb on it.

Kix took your coat and hung it up for you, "If you're going to shower you should use lukewarm water just as a precaution."

"Wanna join me?" you teased.

"Tempting but you need rest," Kix smiled, any other time he would have been more then thrilled and scolding himself for turning it down, "Raincheck when I get back, assuming you don't over work yourself again?"

"Awe, not even to make sure I don't use hot water," you said giving him a wink, "as long as it's a promise when you get back."

"Trust me, it's a promise," he said sinking himself down into the couch watching you walk towards the refresher. He smiled at how domestic it felt being away from the barracks but it also felt strange being away from his brothers for any prolonged length of time, even spending the night felt like forever to him. He heard the water running and peaked at the modestly open door checking for steam but it never arrived.

As suggested much to your aching muscles complaint you kept the water cool, tenderizing the muscles as you washed which helped. You dried yourself off giggling when you found his shirt laid out for you on the counter. You put it on expected to see shirtless but he was still sitting in the couch completed covered with a smirk on his face, "Ma'am, did Gar issue you to me because damn you look good in my shirt," he couldn't keep a straight face at the end and buckled over laughing, "Happy Fives?" he spoke into his com and you heard his brothers laughter and hung up on him. Your face was bright red as you curled up next to him on the couch his strong arms curling around you, "Sorry Mesh'la, I got dared to say it," Kix said awkwardly.

"It was actually really cute," you admitted, "I take your brothers are playful?"

"You have no idea," he groaned, "Fives is the brother they should have warned you about."

"Actually Hardcase and coffee is the only direct one I've been warned out."

"Yes, that, never do it," he laughed, "Rex?"

"Yes. Speaking of which how does the dear captain feel about this?" you asked curiously, "he seems like one for regulation."

"He has a... unique understanding that we are still men," Kix offered, "So movie and sleep?"

"Horrible cooking, movie and then sleep?"

"You ate trooper food for lunch, I think anything you make it gourmet in comparison."

"It was delicious," you said nonchalantly getting up trying hide the sound of the smirk.

"Should I get a fire extinguisher?" Kix jested back following you over to the tiny kitchen, "It wouldn't hurt," he rolled his eyes watching you cook.

"FOX!" Fox heard Thorn call, shock stick in hand finding a scowl on Thorn's face with his ear pressed against the hall, "Womp Rat's, we have to exterminate tonight."

"Great, more paperwork. I'll go brief the Chancellor," Fox set the stick back in his office, using his security to get pass several restricted doors to approach the Chancellors office. He used the back of his knuckles to knock hearing the voice to come on, "Pardon the interruption Chancellor, may I have a moment of your time?"

"Ah, yes Commander Fox, what is on your mind."

"Sir, unfortunately we need to seal this building for a rotation. There is vermin outbreak of womp rats in the wall, we need droids to come purge the building," he watched the Chancellor look down at this schedule before answering, "I will still clearing the senate, thank you for taking care of this haste. I hope you and all your men enjoy a day off."

"Thank you, Chancellor. I will send in the drones at 10pm sharp assuming that will give you plenty of time."

"That will be perfect, thank you Commander."

Fox gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement before above facing and striding out of the room typing out a ping to the guard to clear out when the droids arrive. He scowled realizing your com channel wasn't in his device and he was to proud of a man to ask Thorn in case he didn't have it, his scowl intensifying realizing he was still going to get up early to come personally tell you to go back to bed. He kicked himself for not grabbing it while he was up in the offices and didn't want be seen backtracking over something so small.

You were tucked into Kix's arm, nuzzled up next to his chest breathing him in realizing the shirt smelled the exact same. His hand traced against your arm feeling your breath start to fade into sleep, "I'll let myself out," he whispered kissing your forehead, "get some sleep." Your eyes were started feeling heavy as gravity was pulling them down, "you smell good," you whispered before his breathing soothed you to sleep.

"You too," he whispered, letting himself enjoy a couple private hours just watching the movie listening to you sleep listening for any breathing difficulty or restless before he left to go get endlessly teased to bed before getting shipped out. He would have sworn he saw Fox duck in the apartment next from yours as he was leaving.

Your fingers reached out curling for the place Kix would have been but the spot was long since empty and cold. You shivered with a while stretching before realizing the noise that woke you was Fox's name being moaned. You tossed a pillow at the wall before typing out, 'Ash, quiet down some of us are trying to sleep.' It got quieter but it was still enough to make you want to cover your ears. It was early in the next rotation and it woke again,'Tell him to quiet down and behave if he expects me to be seen with me later.' The apartment falls into deathly silence and you were any to finally rest until the bastard pounded on your door waking you up. Still in Kix's shirt you swung open the door once you looked through the eye hole and saw it was him, letting him see that Kix was gone.

"Next time bring coffee," you groaned leaving the door heading to the mini coffee counter which paled in comparison to the cafe, letting your head rest against the refrigerator, "Want coffee or just going to stand their menacingly?" You heard the two footsteps and the door shut.

"Senate building is closed today," he grunted sitting down on the couch.

"So you fuck my neighbor loud enough to wake up and then, wake me up violently banging my door, just to tell me there's no work today?" you asked handing him a cup of nothing but flavored expresso and sipping on your own.

"Yes."

"Commander, you need to work on your people skills," you grumbled, "Hungry?" Fox gave you a short nod. You dug out a variety of snacks and fruit slices setting them on the table not having the energy to cook yet, "Eat whatever," you said yawning sitting on the couch next to him leaning towards the armrest. First the look alike and now my neighbor, but there's no way he could have known right? No he should have known my room was next door. Simmering in your annoyance you sipped the scorching cup watching him nibble visibly taking you in and especially inspecting your neck.

"Kix let me sleep and left last night so stop searching me your not going to find anything," you told him coldly.

"Good."

"I don't understand you."

"Good," you rolled your eyes at the reply.

"She kick you out?" you asked.

"Yes, thanks to your message."

"Good," you tossed back, getting a little growl out of him, "Kept me all night on a day I could have slept in."

"79'a?" He asked arching an eyebrow, "Thorn wanted to know."

"I was planning on going," you bold faced lied, "but next time he can just message me himself."

Fox shrugged, "Know how to get there?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Playful you tossed a pack of one of the assorted packs of snacks at him, "Man of few words, good," you laughed, "at least I can count your vocabulary with my fingers," you added snorting.

He scowled, "I might be a man of a few words, I am however articulate enough to only need a few. Now get dressed."

"Now?!"

"I didn't say later."

You scowled prying yourself off the now warm body position sunken coat to go find something decent to wear this early in the morning to a cantina. You opted for simple and fitting pants and a lose shirt, close enough, "Fox?" With in a few moments he appear in your door way, "if you haven't showered from last nights.. activities, you can if you want."

"Thank you," he mumbled heading towards the refresher.

The man drives me crazy but at least he has manners, you heard the water running and the door wide open. He's probably not use to showering outside the barracks. As you walk by you catch a glance at how well defined the commander in all the right places. His bronze complexion highlighting every well toned muscle. Your breath hitched causing you debate not going out tonight, every sensitive placing tingling wanting to be touched. Wish Kix would have taken me up on the shower offer. You melted into the couch hearing the water shut off hoping the scarlet across your face was gone.

"Liked what you saw?" if the scarlet wasn't gone it surely wasn't going anywhere now.

"No idea what you're talking about."

"Your face tells me a different story, let's go," he was already opening the door before you even stood up. He was full tooth grinning as he saw the blush across your face, “Your face also tells me I’m built better than Kix.”

“Shut up, Foxy,” you growled at him.

“I was the quiet one last nigh.”

Your fist itched to make contact with his face, you weren’t one for violence but he was getting on your last nerve this early Morning in the day, “I bet you whimper like fox,” you decided to say.

He pinned you with his eyes, “That better not be an invitation to find out” he moved staring down at you ignoring the glares of passerby’s, “because it would be on the men’s counter,” he added before walking again towards the tram.

Reluctantly you followed him wondering how much trouble Kix get in if he sent you orders to stay home so you could avoid being around him. The rest of the trip was silent, thank the maker. You stayed closed to the clone reserved area but not next to it in case he made another comment so you could elect to ignore it. Fox eyed you but focusing his eyes on the people around you in a protective stance, it wasn’t often that tram crime happened this far up but it still happened and the last thing he wanted from his brothers was an earful. He had a sneaking suspicion he was going to anyway. Groaning he found Gree waiting outside hearing you say, “At least there’s a splash of color besides red.” He growled when Gree offered you his arm escorting you inside. You all just loved pissing him off, especially Gree understanding the look of death in his eye cackling when he finally understood.

“What’s funny?” You asked as Gree ushered you inside the booth,

“Foxy’s got a secret,” he laughed.

“Duh,” Thorn said appearing out of the thin air, “The man is a walking secret.”

“Guuror kar’taylir,” Gree said winking at his brother in Mando’a

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sweaterkittensahoy · 28 days

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What if I go full romcom on this Chick/Minnie (OFC) story and bring DB into it? Like, early on in knowing each other, Chick's suddenly just carrying gosling in his pocket like it's nothing, and Minnie does not know what to do with this information. I mean, yes, it's adorable. But also, what the fuck.

Okay, I actually love this enough I'm going to throw something together right this second:

Minnie sits at her desk and reviews reports, wishing one of the girls was sick so she could have an excuse to be on the floor more than once an hour. It's the day after another mission, and there's so many boys in the beds. She'd agreed to a Head Nurse position originally because her years of actual nursing gave her the option with the Red Cross. It'd seemed an easy decision back when she agreed, a way to test out if she wanted a job so high up the chain.

As she signs her name at the bottom of a patient report, she knows with certainty she never wants this job again. Too much paper, not enough patients.

There's a knock on her open office door, and she glances up. It's Colonel Harding, which means it's ten-thirty. He comes every day they've got boys in the beds to get a personal update. The first time she'd seen him, Minnie wouldn't have guessed him the type. But she's since learned he's got a big heart for these boys, same as she does. It's part of what makes them friends.

"Please, come in," she says, standing and smoothing her skirt. "Coffee?"

"If you've got extra," Harding says. "And could I get a bowl of water?"

Minnie pauses, coffee pot hefted halfway to pouring position. "A bowl of water?"

"I'm babysitting," Harding says and reaches into his leather jacket.

Minnie stares in mild shock as he pulls out his cupped hand and shows her a tiny gosling she already knows too well. "Oh, don't tell me the ground crew suckered you into letting them keep it."

"I thought you loved babies," Harding replies, bringing his other hand up so the gosling is fully cupped against his chest.

"Babies, yes," Minnie says, walking around her desk and sticking her head out the door. Charlotte is in the hallway sorting bandages. "Nurse Thorton," Minnie says, "Could you get me a large bowl of water? Lukewarm."

"Of course, Ma'am," Charlotte says, the question in her eyes very clear.

"Thank you," Minnie says rather than answer. It's been a long morning for all of them. Charlotte will appreciate the surprise of the little gosling. She turns back into her office, and Harding is sitting in the chair in front of her desk, still holding the gosling. She goes back to pouring them both coffee. Black for Harding, one sugar for herself, then sets the cups down on her desk before sitting herself.

"You were saying you love babies, but not this little man," Harding says, rubbing a finger across the gosling's head.

"I grew up with geese. They're monsters," Minnie answers. "They lived by our pond and would chase us all around. They bite. A lot."

"Here's the water," Charlotte says as she walks into the office. She stops short at the sight of the gosling and smiles. "Oh, is that the one Winks found?" She asks, then stiffens slightly. "Corporal Hermann, I mean."

Minnie lifts some folders to clear a space for the bowl. "It seems to be," she says. "You haven't been filching supplies to help with the bedding have you?"

Charlotte shakes her head. "No, Ma'am. I've only given them scraps from my own rag bag."

Minnie doesn't ask if the other nurses have been filching supplies. She knows the answer. She just signed the inventory sheets, and they're slightly low. She'll ignore it this once. "That's nice of you, Nurse Thorton. You may go."

Charlotte nods and gives Harding a quick smile, then leaves the office, closing the door behind her.

Minnie watches Harding place the gosling in the water with slow, easy movements. "Has he swum yet?" she can't help but ask.

"A few times, the boys tell me," Harding replies as he lifts his hands away. The gosling kicks its legs and makes a small circle, then nips at the water. "But only in bowls so far. I promised he'd get his exercise on my watch."

Minnie shakes her head, watching the gosling nip at the water and make a wider circle. "You're really going to let them keep it?"

"Winks looked for a nest, but he couldn't find one."

"If he'd gotten within ten feet, the angry mother would have gotten him first," Minnie says.

"And I figure, if he ends up being a problem, we'll take care of it right around Christmas dinner time."

"Colonel!" Minnie admonishes, though she has to cover her mouth to hide her smile.

"Well, Nurse Green, are you for or against the goose?" Harding asks, eyes bright with amusement. "First, you're disappointed I've got him, and now you're acting like it'd be bad to eat him."

Minnie gives in and laughs a little. She watches the way Harding's eyes crinkle at the edges as he picks up his coffee. The gosling makes a small noise and does another circle in the bowl.

"Perhaps your boys can teach him more manners than the geese at the farm ever had," Minnie says. "Something-something, the sins of the father and all that."

Harding leans back in his chair and sips his coffee. "We'll see. I heard them trying to pick a name today, and none of them were repeatable."

Minnie snorts and reaches for the reports Harding is here to discuss. "I'm sure I've heard all the words they're wanting to use," she says. "I've probably said a few myself."

"Haven't we all?" Harding agrees, and he leans forward again, elbows on his knees, a sign he's ready to get down to business. So, Minnie does.

#chick harding/minnie green #ofc #masters of the air #db the goose #mota #i don't know i'm just letting things happen as they happen

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pelleas-at-castle-nox · 1 year

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Contrast/Gift

Having stopped in at a space port, a married couple catches eyes as they navigate the seemingly never ending mall. A tall, gaunt lizard in a blindfold looms over their wife, dressed in esoteric robes of priesthood that give the impression of a monk lost in the sea of stars. From their arm hung several shopping bags, supplied with many different clothes and snacks by their beloved wife, a fashionably dressed fox with rose tented and heart shaped sunglasses and a belly that swayed notably without constraint thanks to her cropped top. Despite the looks of the odd couple, where the fox went the lizard followed. Many first assumed the woman was flaunting a servant, though the differential tone she spoke with gave that idea a certain pause.

"I just don't know... these ones are cute, but I'll be ripping out of them by the end of the month... These ones look cozy but I'm not sure I'd want to be caught dead squeezed into them like biscuits in a can..." she held up two contrasting garments, but as she debated, the lizard simply plucked them both from her paws and added it to the veritable wardrobe of hangers and bags already hanging from their arm, the weight of which seemed like it would accumulate into something overbearing. Despite this, the Lizard's arms did not tremble.

"I will get you both. When you outgrow the first, I will relish in the labor of attempting to force you into the second. If it splits under the strain of that, we have the other options we've already considered." They spoke in a soothing measured tone, and before the fox could reply, the lizard had pushed past her, already adding several more items to the lineup. "You will look ravishing in these as well."

The fox gave a warm smile of approval at her spouse's seizure of control, opening her mouth wide for a moment which swiftly prompted the lizard to reach into one of the bags and pop the lid on a container of peculiar hyper dense candies. One was popped into the Fox's mouth, scaled fingers lingering on her muzzle as the candy tumbled into her soft belly, causing it to swell noticably, softness spreading across her body in a way that made her accessories creak and groan. A roll of pleasure entered her body, as she shifted her stance on her 6 inch platform heels, looking up at the lizard who smiled serenely back down at her.

"Excuse me, ma'am, Sir? You can't test merchandise on the show floor." A black furred cat in a trendy uniform suddenly approached the odd pair, having been watching them with foul intentions for a while now. "I'm going to have to ask you to pay for that and leave."

The cat may have made a mistake in walking right up to them, though in truth that would hardly feel like a mistake for long. The lizard slipped a finger under their blindfold, lifting it to reveal dazzling golden lights where eyes would be. The aura met the worker's eyes, and his expression immediately softened. Visions filled his head, visions that the lizard bore witness to.

All at once, the cat began to swell, like a compression field had suddenly deactivated. The lizard was unusually tall, and their wife only seemed short when compared to them. The black cat had been slim and of average build, but after a second of eye contact with the strange lizard, Reality seemed to rewrite itself. No sign of the angry cat remained, only an exceedingly stout fur in the same trendy uniform that happened to fit like a glove. It no longer even looked like a uniform, minor alterations having been made, accessories added, that took it from a bog standard corporate look into a bold declaration of fashion. Of course, the declaration was "I weigh half a ton" and despite his best efforts, the cat wasn't able to stop his billowing hips from knocking over the displays to either side of him.

A gentle tsking came from the fox as she leaned down and lifted up the display closest to her, setting it back down before approaching her beloved once more, sliding that blindfold back down. "You were saying?"

A small crowd had gathered now, and the cat suddenly seemed embarrassed. "I-I was saying I hope you enjoy the gifts! I'll personally me comping all the items you've selected, it would do my store wonders for our items to be seen on wonderful people like you! Just be sure to tell people where you found them!"

She nodded with a smug smirk, reaching out to gently scratch beneath the blubber rolls of the cat's chins. "That's what I thought. Come along Avery~" and with that she began to stride confidently out of the store, the looming lizard following behind her as people began to crowd around the bloated fat cat, appreciating his newfound softness, everybody eager to tell him how much better he looked like this.

#feedist kinktober #weight gain #hypnosis maybe?#definitely some magic #and godly powers

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thewatcher727 · 3 months

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Sonic X: Gotta Go Fast Again - Chapter 14: Fateful Misstep

Sonic X: Gotta Go Fast again is a thrilling continuation of the beloved anime, promising action-packed escapades and heartwarming moments as our heroes embark on their next chapter! Available for Reading on AO3 & FF!

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14344080/14/Sonic-X-Gotta-Go-Fast-Again

Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54991219/chapters/145392910

Preview:

Amy's fists collided with the metal door of her cell with a resounding fury. Each blow reverberated through the confined space, echoing her frustration and anger. She longed for the comforting weight of her trusty Piko Piko Hammer, imagining the satisfying impact it would make against Eggman's fortress walls.

"Let me out of here!" she shouted, but the only response was the hollow echo of her own words bouncing off the sterile walls.

With a sigh of resignation, Amy slumped onto the narrow bed in her cell. The adrenaline of her initial outburst faded, leaving behind a sense of helplessness. She knew she shouldn't let herself get so worked up. Sonic would come for her, she was sure of it. After all, he was her hero, her knight in shining sneakers.

As she sat there, the minutes ticking by in agonizing slowness, Amy's mind drifted into a familiar daydream. She imagined Sonic bursting through the walls with a dramatic flourish, his emerald eyes sparkling with determination. In her fantasy, he effortlessly dispatched Eggman's robotic minions, his trademark smirk never leaving his face. With a swift flick of his wrist, he would shatter the lock on her cell door, sweeping her into his arms before speeding off into the sunset.

"Excuse me, ma'am? I'm afraid you've been booked in the wrong room."

The unexpected voice shattered the stillness of the cell, pulling Amy from the depths of her daydreams. With a gasp of delight, she looked up to see him—her hero, Sonic—peering through the window of her cell door. His presence alone was enough to set her heart racing with excitement.

In an instant, Sonic's trademark grin lit up his face. Without hesitation, he launched into action, his movements a blur as he executed his signature homing attack. The metal door groaned and protested under the force of his assault, before finally giving way with a resounding clang.

Amy's heart soared as Sonic stepped into her cell. Without a second thought, she threw herself into his arms, enveloping him in a tight embrace. Words tumbled from her lips in a torrent of excitement and relief, a million thoughts and emotions fighting for expression all at once.

"Sonic, you're here! How did you find me? I knew you'd save me, but I didn't expect it to be so soon! Did you see Eggman? And Metal Sonic, don't even get me started! Oh, and we should totally go on a date after this, just you and me, no evil robots or mad scientists, just us and maybe a picnic or a romantic sunset or—wait, do you hear that? Is that the sound of more bad guys? We should probably go, but not before I thank you properly, because you're my hero and I—"

Meanwhile, Sonic, ever aware of their audience, cast a quick glance towards the invisible fourth wall with a bemused expression. It was a subtle acknowledgment of the absurdity of their situation, a playful nod to the audience who had been following their adventures every step of the way. Sonic gently placed his gloved hands on Amy's arms, carefully prying himself free from her tight embrace. Despite her excitement, he maintained his composure, his focus shifting to ensuring her safety. With a swift glance, he scanned her for any signs of harm, relief flooding him as he found her unscathed. Not a single scratch or mark marred her fur.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Sonic's voice was filled with genuine concern as he met Amy's eyes, searching for any hint of distress.

Amy shook her head fervently, clasping her hands together in a gesture of gratitude. "Oh, you're so sweet to ask! I knew you cared!"

Sonic fought the urge to roll his eyes at Amy's melodramatic response, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched as Amy retrieved her trusty hammer, which the robots had inexplicably left unguarded on a nearby table. With a swift motion, she hoisted the weapon onto her shoulder.

The heavy metal door to the cell area groaned open, and Sonic and Amy turned their attention towards the sudden intrusion. Before them stood a horde of Egg Pawns, their mechanical forms bristling with weapons. Sonic's gaze flickered with determination, while Amy's narrowed eyes sparkled with anticipation. This was the moment she had been waiting for—a chance for payback against Eggman's minions.

With a fierce cry, Amy charged forward, her trusty hammer raised high above her head. "This is for ignoring me!"

The Egg Pawns, caught off guard by Amy's sudden assault, had no time to react as she unleashed a relentless barrage of blows upon them. With each swing of her hammer, metal clashed against metal, the force of her strikes sending sparks flying in every direction.

Sonic watched with a grin, impressed by Amy's ferocity and skill. He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed and one foot propped up against the cold metal surface. There was no need for him to intervene—Amy had this under control. With a sense of satisfaction, he allowed himself to relax, content to let Amy have her moment of triumph. After all, there was nothing quite like watching her in action.

He approached her slowly, mindful of the residual energy radiating from her after the confrontation with the Egg Pawns. With a gentle tap on her shoulder, he sought to break through the intensity of the moment.

"I know I wouldn't wanna be on the other end of that hammer," Sonic remarked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

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nazmazh · 3 months

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So, saw a Reddit thread asking about what sort of alternate characters/costumes/looks you'd really, really want for Dead by Daylight, and me, being the nerd I am want so many Remedy-Verse characters (generally would be alternates for Alan unless, like Jesse Faden were to be brought in as a character in her own right, which is pretty unlikely).

And of course, that includes Odin and Tor Anderson. Give Bill Overbeck some company in the Cool Old Geezer category.

And I got to thinking - Those two probably would fucking love being in The Entity's Realm. They'd treat it like some sort of Valhalla - Have fun being able to run basically forever and have a task to work on. And, sure, they can't really do anything to hurt the killers, that wouldn't stop them from trying periodically - Just to see if it might work this time, but if it still doesn't, they'd happily embrace a warrior's death, over and over, protection their teammates and hopefully buying them time to win.

Not "escape" - They know that's not actually truly possible (at least, most likely not). Their True Sight abilities mean that The Entity isn't able to wipe their memories or confuse them about how long they've been there (Or the fact that they really actually don't need to eat or drink in the Realm anyway).

Like I say though - Even knowing all this - They'd probably view the Realm as some sort of afterlife anyway, and there's certainly worse fates than being trapped in The Entity's sadistic games - Really.

Especially knowing that despite however much it might hurt, they're not truly going to die, just respawn, I feel like they'd pretty enthusiastically play the games - Feeling especially satisfied when they do put one over on killers and escape/win the match.

They'd also probably be mouthy towards literally every killer (and a good deal of the survivors too, but those would be more teasing/joking around). Like, the Statler and Waldorf of the Realm.

"Bro, I'm gonna level with you - I think there might be something wrong with your stash. The sickly orange glow is probably a bad sign for most drugs"

"Ooh... Scary clown! Bah! I've opened for clowns scarier than you! You know what's really terrifying? Being stuck in a green room with Gene Simmons when he's trying to give you business advice!"

"Oh no. A teenager with a knife. So original. Oh, you've got a hood and a mask too? Well now, that's really scary. And definitely innovative."

"You know miss, I don't think I've ever seen you actually sell anyone a skull. Do you have any for purchase? No, really, I want to help you with that whole 'Merchant' thing. Otherwise, it's just silly, isn't it?"

"Ma'am, I'm gonna suggest that you should avoid whatever you've been eating. It sucks, I know. I can't eat anything with cinnamon after supper anymore without needing a whole bottle of antacids. Maybe the entity will do you a favour a pull in some of that bismuth stuff from somewhere?"

"Oh, you wanna be all big and scary? I can roar like a madman too! If I had my hammer I'd show you how an Aesir deals with giants and trolls."

"I gotta say, Bro, you oughta get a refund on those shades. They don't seem to do shit for you!" (*Blinds Wesker with a flashlight*)

"Am I supposed to be scared of you? Bro, you're the failed reboot version of yourself! They didn't even find you worthwhile enough to keep making *more* new sequels with! I'm pretty sure I've only ever seen 'real' Michael Myerses and Leatherfaces kicking around. None of that Rob Zombie remake one, or any of the 10,000 attempts at making a new Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie. So, what's your excuse, New Coke? Is The Entity just waiting to give us Freddy Classic as some sort of marketing gimmick?"

[I cannot stress enough that while they'd be saying stuff like this while cleverly dodging out of the way, or pallet stunning and whatnot. They'd absolutely be spouting this stuff while actively dying]

#Dead by Daylight #DbD #Alan Wake

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repairingtomorrow · 1 year

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Angela Ziegler - Call Sign: Mercy (Origin Story)

(This is the first story of my Overwatch story rewrite. I plan on doing new/edited origin stories for many of the characters. I will also warn that I haven't written stories in a long time so excuse my rust, it might be apparent)

To Master List

It happened when I was just a little girl. I was just getting ready for the day, preparing for school while my parents got ready to go to their volunteer jobs for the day. I remember the touch of my mother's hand in mine, her gentle voice telling me to be safe. And my father urging her to hurry up since they were going to be late. They waved goodbye and walked out the door...and that's when I last saw them alive. The day was normal. School was fun, I enjoyed my science class, not knowing what was awaiting me after school.

The bell rang, dismissing us for the day. I started to walk home, excited to see my parents again and tell them about my day. I reached the house and saw that Torbjorn, Ingrid and a police officer were there. "Hello!" I chimed, unaware of the sad looks in their eyes. "Hello, dear." Torbjorn greeted. He stroked his beard, pondering about a way to discuss the elephant in the room. "Angie, we need you to come with us. This police officer needs your help...identifying some people." Ingrid spoke for him, glancing to the officer next to her. I hesitated, then asked the burning question. "Where are my parents?" The adults all looked at each other, then the officer spoke up. "We're taking you to them."

The car ride felt like forever. I was unsure of what was happening, but at the time, I assumed I was going to see them at work again. We then took a different turn, and went in the opposite direction of the hospital. "We missed the turn!" I exclaimed, sitting up out of my seat to look out the window better. Torbjorn sighed and patted my arm. "I know, but we need to go here instead." I nodded, sitting back down. Eventually, we arrived at a rather unassuming building. We all left the police car, and Ingrid grabbed my hand. The officer guided us in: the fluorescent lights gently buzzed in the hallways, and the walls were a gray color. The four of us walked down a series of hallways. I would hear the sounds of people crying or even screaming--the morgue was filled with grief.

We eventually stopped at a door. Ingrid let out a sigh, and then turned to our escort. "Does she really have to do this? Couldn't we just do it?" She implored, her voice breaking a bit. The officer shook his head, then opened the door. Torbjorn walked in first, Ingrid paused and then we went in after him. There was a woman in scrubs, gloves and a mask standing by two tables. There was something on both, covered by large blankets. The room was dark on the edges, large lights were pointed to the center. "Angela Ziegler?" The mortuary's assistant asked, looking at me. "Yes ma'am." I replied, my hands shaking. Something wasn't right. Torbjorn squeezed my shoulder and gave me a tearful smile. "They're going to show you the two people that are under the blankets and you need to tell them if you know them, okay? You don't have to look for too long." I nodded, squeezing Ingrid's hand.

The assistant lowered the tables to my height, then she grabbed the edge of the blanket. She pulled it back and I saw her. My mother's face, bruised, bloody, broken. Her mouth was slightly ajar, and it almost looked like she was whispering my name. All I could do was stare at her, my heart growing heavy at her lifeless form. "Mom..." I choked out, and the assistant notes something down on a holo-pad. My mother was covered with the blanket again, and Ingrid guides me to the other table. The body on this table was smaller, and it didn't occur to me that it was missing limbs until later. The assistant pulled the blanket back, and my father's burned face stared back at me. It petrified me, and the room grew even darker. It was like an expression of pain was etched onto his face, or what was left of it. A pit formed in my stomach as his corpse looked into my soul. "Dad!" I cried out, and Ingrid held me close.

I always wondered what death looked and felt like--in fact, I always asked my parents. They said it was peaceful and calming. There was serenity in it, even if what preceded it was pain. I always accepted that answer even if, at times, I didn't believe it. But that day changed that. All I could think about was the death I had seen, and the grief I had heard throughout that morgue. I was surrounded by death, and staring into my father's eyes...I felt it. It chilled, haunted, and followed me. I see them in my dreams, at the corner of my eyes when my guard is down. Their deaths rung a bell deep within my soul, one that cannot be unrung. I became a doctor because of them, and each death I see leaves a mark. For them, every failure only fuels my fire.

For death, I made the Valkyrie suit. And for the dying, I am Mercy.

(End notes: Thank you for reading! This ended up a lot longer than I expected. Not every story I do will be in first person, this particular one felt like it would be better Mercy's view. Let me know if I need to tag anything)

#overwatch #overwatch mercy #angela ziegler #my overwatch rewrite #tw death

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applepi-1 · 2 years

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Misunderstanding- Kenma

You stood on the bus holding onto the pole trying not to fall asleep, the thought of Kenma sitting on the couch when you got home was the only thing keeping you up. The woman in front of you was eyeing you as you dozed off for the 100th time. You jumped as your phone went off, the lady in front of you rolled her eyes at how loud it was. "Sorry, sorry." You saw it was Kenma and a small smile formed. "Hey, love. I'm on the way home. Work was tough."

"Another case?"

"Yeah, a murder. Stayed up all night." The people around you looked at you as you closed your eyes sighing into the pole.

"A murder? Another one?"

"Yeah, the body was chopped up so I had to put all the pieces back together... which wasn't technically my job."

"Ew."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I like I have a little blood on my leg. It was so gross."

"I bet. Can't wait to see you, kitten. I cooked dinner since I knew you would be tired and exhausted to come home and cook."

"Thanks baby. I am exhausted and dinner sounds amazing. I just want to be home and take a shower."

"How far are you?"

"Umm..." You looked around trying to see where when you saw a sign. "Oh, this is my stop, I'll be home in like 10 minutes tops."

"I'll fix your bath, get home safe."

"Thanks love. You are amazing." You walked towards the door was the train stopped only to see an officer.

"I need you to come with me, miss." You looked at him confused.

"Hey, um. Kenma can you actually meet me at the police station?"

"What why?"

"Just... meet me there. Get Daichi." You hung up and followed the officer outside to his car. He opened the back door. "May I ask what this is about?"

"Get in the car." You sighed and got in he closed the door behind you before getting in. He called it in on the radio.

"Um sir, I had a really long day I just want to lay in bed."

"Ma'am with all do respect, can't let you do that." You groaned and flopped back into the seat looking out the window. You looked at your phone seeing a message from Daichi.

Dai- Don't say anything until I get there.

You turned your phone off as the car stopped, you waited for the officer to open the door. "Come on." You got out the car and walked inside. He brought you into a room and left you there.

"Okay?" You sat down and looked around the room, noticing it was an interrogation room.

"Mrs. Kozume?"

"Yes?" You looked at the man as he sat in front of you.

"Did anyone tell you why you're here?"

"No, but I'd like to know why."

"We heard you were on a train... talking about murder."

"Wait, hold up. That's not the story."

"So you weren't on a train talking about murder?"

"I mean... I was. But not how you think."

"Then tell me how I should think it is."

"I'm a forensic anthropologist. I look at peoples bones. We had a late night in trying to figure out the murder. My job is to examine the bones and put them in the spot they're suppose to be in. That's my job."

"You have your Id on you?"

"I do." You grabbed your bag and shuffled through it. "Or I don't let me call my colleague and I'll have them bring it down."

"We've heard that one before." You turned your attention to the door as it opened.

"Sorry, sir. We have a Daichi Sawamura here. Wants to speak to you and Mrs. Kuzume."

"Huh.." The man looked at you before the door. "Let him in."

"Ok." You sighed as you saw Daichi.

"Daichi Sawamura. You're quite popular."

"So is Y/n L/n."

"Excuse me?"

"Mrs. Kuzume was a forensic anthropologist before she was married. She goes by Y/n L/n. Her license is being renamed to her marriage name."

"Uh-huh. Well, we have a few more questions then you can go."

"Yes, sir." You groaned and laid your head down. The man got up and walked out the room leaving you with Daichi. "What do I do, Dai?"

"Hey, relax. I'm sure they are gonna run your name through the system and figure it all out. Kenma is waiting outside for you, ok?"

"I just wanna go home. Work was stressful and Kenma made dinner and everything."

"I know. He told me, I'm sure you'll be leaving soon."

"I hope so."

"Sorry about that, Mrs. Kuzume. You are free to go, it won't happen again."

"Let's hope it won't." Daichi stood up and offered you a hand. You got up and walked out the room, grabbed your stuff and walked out the station. "Baby." You groaned as you reached Kenma.

"Hey, love. I ran you a bath while I waited for Daichi. It should still be warm and ready. Let's get you home."

"Thanks, and thank you Daichi."

"Of course. Get home safe." You both went your separate ways.

"I can't believe they arrested you."

"Well, technically they didn't. I didn't have any handcuffs on me thankfully. I just want to go home take a shower and eat with the love of my life."

"Aww. We're almost home love."

"Thank god." Kenma laughed as you pushed yourself into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and sighed.

"Welcome home." This time you laughed as you reached your house. "You go take a bath and I'll heat up the food." You smiled at your husband and kissed his cheek.

"You are amazing."

"I know, you said that earlier." You scrunched your nose and ran upstairs to the shower. Kenma shook his head at you and walked to the kitchen and grabbed your plates. When you were done you saw Kenma waiting in front of the table with a smile on his face.

"Thank you for cooking dinner. This is... sweet."

"Least I can do. You've been working so hard lately, thought you could a use a night of relaxation."

"I love you, Mr. Kuzume." You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"And I love you, Mrs. Kuzume." You smiled as he leaned down and kissed you.

#kenma x you #officer daichi #misunderstanding #confused kenma #kenma kozume #kenma x y/n

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nevada-wrytes · 2 years

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Chapter 1 - The Enchantress

If you want to know the premise of this series click here. The next chapter will be posted here.

"'Reveal your fatal flaw, three tickets each.' Hey, that sounds exciting, don't you think?"

Raven came to a stop where their interlocked hands could stretch no further. He had no choice but to face Dahlia.

She had cotton candy on her nose and was staring at a bedazzled sign as if it held the answers to the universe.

Oh, birds, couldn't he have gotten himself a nice sports girl or something? Anything besides an astrology girl who forced him to do tarot readings and go crystal shopping.

Raven glanced around this area of the fair. There was no one around and the now setting sun burned the tents in red and orange colors as if they were on fire. He didn't like the silence and wanted to leave fast, but he hated the look in Dahlia's eyes more.

To keep up his cool, unbothered guy swag, though, he just shrugged. "Sounds fake to me. You sure you don't want to go get more cotton candy or something? Ice cream? Donuts? Anything?"

"Oh come on, you're just scared," Dahlia teased. Then she did this thing where she twisted her long dark hair around her finger and bit her lip and by the bird's mercy Raven was already a goner.

"Okay," he conceited. "But we're here for your fatal flaw, not mine."

Dahlia clapped her hands together and smiled, before grabbing his hand again and dragging him into the fortune teller's tent. What a fool he was for falling victim to another pretty face and kind soul.

Maybe that was his fatal flaw.

Stepping into the tent felt like stepping into another world. Well, at least for Dahlia. Raven's seen better and to be honest, all the decorations hanging around just collected dust and made his nose itch.

Regardless, Dahlia was loving it. She oohed and ahhed at the colorful sheets of fabric draping from the ceiling, the shiny beads that made clinking noises when they tapped against each other, and the twinkling LED lights that everyone seemed to have hung around the walls. The only lights came from the LEDs, casting the whole tent in a strange glow with tiny pockets of light and larger pockets of shadow.

Raven wrinkled his nose at the incense strong enough to kill a horse burning in the tent, which had to have been a fire hazard, but nonetheless, he followed Dahlia deeper into the maze of fabrics until they reached the center.

If the tent hadn't been enough to wow you, the person sitting in the center was surely the icing on the cake.

A woman of indiscernible age sat criss crossed behind a low table holding a crystal ball. She herself was draped in fabrics and shiny beads and jewelry. She would have been the quintessence of a 'fortune teller' if Raven hadn't glimpsed the tag sticking out of her headscarf.

She opened her eyes and gestured to the cushions around her. "Come in, sit."

Dahlia obliged gleefully and pulled Raven down next to her.

“So,” the woman spread out her hands, “who comes to seek my knowledge?”

Raven cast his eyes anywhere but her face, like a student trying to avoid answering a question. Luckily, Dahlia spoke first.

"Oh, me! My name is Dahlia, I'd love to know my fate."

The woman smiled, "What a lovely name for a lovely girl, come, give me your hands and let me peer into your soul."

Dahlia did as the woman asked, and after a few uncomfortable moments of silence, the woman tensed.

"I sense great danger in your future." Raven snapped up.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes… yes.. a beautiful girl with a beautiful soul.. perfect for the picking."

Dahlia cringed. "Uh, ma'am? That's kind of misogynist."

The woman stared right at Dahlia, eyes as black as coal. "You will be betrayed by the one you love, you will fall into despair and death for eternity, run child, run as fast as you can!"

Dahlia pulled away, "Oh-h okay, I think it's time to go."

The woman quickly grabbed Raven's hands, her grip strong and cold. "You've doomed all those that you love! How can you be so selfish to keep loving! You don't deserve anything!"

Raven was stuck frozen at her words. In a split second he blinked and they were out of the tent, him being pulled away by a very pissed off Dahlia.

"What a load of bullshit. I knew it was just a scam to scare teenagers! Raven? Raven, can you hear me?"

Raven slowly looked up into Dahlia's eyes. They were green, like forests and moss and leaves. Not icy cold like the deep deep black Void.

Before he could say anything, she was hugging him tight. "Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't think that would shake you up so bad. Don't listen to that woman, she's just spewing whatever crap her yoga chai tea facebook group told her. She's probably racist, too- I mean I get the whole mystic wise woman aesthetic but it's horrible to appropriate Roma culture-"

As Dahlia prattled on about the injustices of the world Raven felt something in himself break. Fuck, couldn't he just have one thing? Just once.

Was a pretty girl with a big heart and an even bigger personality so much to ask? Did it always have to end as abruptly as it started?

"Raven? Honey? What's wrong?" Dahlia cupped his face in her hands and wiped away his tears with her thumbs. Raven hadn't realized he was crying. So much for the cool guy aesthetic.

"I want to go hoooome." He sniffled.

"Oh- okay! Uhm- we can go to my place and maybe watch a movie? We can watch the Tinkerbell movies you like so much! And- and I'll make popcorn and tea, would that be okay?"

Dahlia, you are much too good for me.

Raven nodded and together they made their way away from the burning fairgrounds and the enchantress with an icy voice and vengeance in her heart.

ˇˇ

He woke up just before dawn, internal clock damn him, in a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor by Dahlia's bed.

Raven closed his eyes for a second, savoring the sweet sugary moment.

Dahlia's room always felt so peaceful, he's spent so many sleepless nights here he could recall everything from memory. Ribbons and tapestries hung from the ceilings and walls, stuffed animals littered the bed, shelves were packed tight with various objects like special rocks and shells and whatever else caught Dahlia's eyes. There was a pile of books in the corner, fantasy stories about magic and grown up fairy tales. The room itself was washed in greys and blues, especially in the early light of morning. The fairy lights probably still shone from where they'd forgotten to turn them off last night.

With a sigh, Raven opened his eyes and turned to Dahlia's sleeping form on the bed. Her shoulders were bare and she clutched a blanket to her face. He smiled.

Quietly, he stood up. Would it be so bad to watch her for a few minutes? See her chest rise and fall with each steady breath, eyes flickering from some sort of wonderful dream?

No, stop being a creep, Raven.

He snapped out of that trance and hesitated. He wanted to touch her, to gently stroke her hair and fall asleep alongside her- but he couldn't let himself have that joy.

He compromised by giving her a quick peck on the nose. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Dahlia groaned, "Fuck off, it's not even five A.M."

"I know, but I have to go."

She knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling his face into the crook of her pale neck.

"Stay."

Raven hesitated again. He could let himself have this. Fall upon her sheets and sacrifice himself into the great great hunger that eats away at his bones. He could have this. She was letting him take it as far as he wanted.

This could be his.

A single raven caw was heard from outside. Raven snapped out of the trance her bare skin covered in freckles had put him into.

"I- I really have to go."

She let go of him with a sigh and flipped over. "Whatever early bird. Go have fun on your run or whatever you morning people get up to."

Raven huffed lightheartedly and ruffled her hair, much to her protest, before unlocking the window and climbing out.

He could have done this the normal way and just walked out the front door like a sane person, but he chose to climb onto the roof instead.

Then when the wind picked up, he jumped.

And off flew a single black bird to join the rest.

Tag list (ask to be added/removed)

@thebonecarver @victorfrankingstein @confused-as-all-hell @iambecomeyourvillain @brekkercookie @fallen-from-olympus @purpl-cryptid @reyyya @thecurlychameleon @naz-yalensky @thesexypanda-boo @kazoo-the-demjin @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @robbiinn

#sorry for the retag this post was edited so yippie more story added!!#nevada writes #raven nv #<- that's the tag for the story #this is a revamp of my old one as per the poll's request

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justaduckarts · 2 years

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9. “They just… Seem so familiar but I can’t put my finger on why that is.” maybe some Avery/Alex content? Looking with big ol eyes

Ohohoh Someone requesting... OC content? :) Glimpses content? Lil crossover?

I gotchu <3

The park was as lively as ever. You, mercifully, had the day off and the park wasn't exactly where you wanted to be, but...

"The meet and greet is supposed to be near the big top," Avery said excitedly, "do you think Chica will sign my book?" They grinned at you.

"Of course she will! All the kids talk about how nice she is," you tucked your hands into your pockets, "but, uh, try not to overwhelm her, okay?"

"I know," Avery adjusted their glasses, "I'll try not to." You lightly bumped their shoulder with yours.

"You got this," you said warmly.

Finally, the two of you were getting into line. Avery had insisted upon arriving an hour early for the meet and greet, and they'd been right- the line was already kind of long. You suspected by the time the meet started, the line would span the length of the carnival.

You also noticed the line was mostly kids and parents. Not that you cared, particularly. Your friend wanted to see the trapeze chicken, and by golly, you were gonna make it happen.

The first 45 minutes of the wait were smooth sailing. Avery had brought their notebook and they were more than happy to scribble away at their ideas for their next engineering project.

You, similarly, never left home without a sketchbook.

It was when you made the mistake of pulling out your colored pencils to add some details to your latest drawing of Moon (with the cat ears, of course) that things took a turn.

"Mama, they have colors!"

You cringed as soon as you heard the excitable little voice. You liked kids well enough. But these were not cheap colored pencils. That aside, the line was PACKED with antsy children, and you definitely didn't have enough for everyone. But if one got to color...

"Excuse me." Yep, there it is.

"Yes, ma'am?" You turned a friendly smile to the woman.

"I noticed you've got some coloring supplies," she said, "do you think my daughter could color with you?" She gently nudged forward a wide-eyed girl with wild curls. The little girl was wearing a too-big pink shirt with Chica's logo on it. Oh no. She's adorable. She grinned up at you shyly.

Ugh. Your one weakness.

"I think that would be okay," you smiled. Seating yourself on the pavement, you offered the girl a clean page from your sketchbook and the pencil box. She took the pink pencil instantly.

"Thank you," her mother said warmly. Well. If it made the kid happy, and no one else was fussing.

Except, that's not exactly what happened.

Just a few minutes later, a particularly energetic boy came running up the line. You'd seen him hanging from the rails earlier and he'd already done quite a bit of screaming and stomping.

And as he spotted you and the little girl coloring, he switched gears immediately.

Honestly, if he'd asked nicely, there wouldn't have been a problem.

But instead, the little boy came stomping up. He snatched the pencil from the little girl and shouted, "I wanna color!"

"Give that back!" The little girl sprang up.

Well. You should have seen this coming.

"No! I want to color!" The little boy stomped his feet. He stomped right on the little girl's drawing of Chica, effectively ruining it. The little girl screamed. She began to wail.

"Hey," you said, "that's my pencil. And I didn't say you could use it. Give it back, please." You held your hand out for the pencil. The boy shied away. Now he was dealing with an adult and seemed less confident in his demands.

"Excuse me?" And here we go again. A man, already red in the face, came storming up. He towered over you.

"Let my son color," he demanded. You frowned.

"Sir, your little boy just came up and snatched the pencil from her," you gestured to the still crying little girl. By this time, her mother was working on damage control, comforting her and shushing her. "Don't you think he should apologize for ruining her drawing? Or, I dunno, ask nicely?"

"Don't tell me how to raise my kid," the man snapped. You got to your feet, seeing this was going to be an issue. Avery, beside you, shrank from all the yelling.

"I'm not. I'm telling you I don't have to let him color if he's going to be rude," you frowned, "now, I'd like my pencil back."

The little boy, seeing his father take the offensive, had decided not to listen to you. Just to spite you, he snapped your colored pencil in half and threw it.

Well. That's a shame.

"That was a really expensive pencil..." You sighed, "look, just take your kid and leave us be." You turned back to the father. "I'm not letting him color with my stuff. Definitely not after breaking a pencil."

The father huffed. "Coloring is for children! You shouldn't be coloring in the first place." He looked between you and Avery who was half-hidden behind you.

"What, are you two here to meet Chica? Adults?" The man's voice was beginning to raise in volume.

"Does that matter?" Your frown deepened. It was getting hard to keep your tone even, but you could tell Avery was already overwhelmed.

"'Scuse me," came yet another voice. Deep, stern. You were expecting maybe security to be there to tell the man to back off.

Instead, a man with brown eyes and a leather jacket (in this heat? Seriously?) stood there. He had a little boy with him, and the boy shifted nervously under the burning gaze of the angry father.

"What?" The father snapped at the leather-clad man.

"Yeah, you're uh, you're yelling," the man in the leather jacket said, "they told you they're not giving your brat anymore pencils to break. So piss off."

"What did you just-

"Dude. The yelling. Shut up already," the man in the leather jacket huffed, "insane that you're calling them childish when you're the one throwing the tantrum." A few snickers jumped out of the other parents around the two. The father bristled further, preparing to shout.

Right as he opened his mouth, the man with the leather jacket spoke again. "Yeah, you can save it. No one wants to hear it. Also, your voice is like... nails on a chalkboard or something. You ever heard of cough drops?" The man smirked, evidently really enjoying riling up the red-faced father.

And then the father swung. Avery let out a tiny yelp, covering their eyes. You watched, jaw hanging open, as the strange man in the leather jacket took the hit. He stumbled, straightened back up, and smiled.

"Well. You know the law," the man in the leather jacket shrugged. "Something, something, self-defense?" He was about to punch the father's ticket when yet another of Avery's little yelps stopped him. Brown eyes flicked over to the cowering person on the ground. Beanie and glasses askew.

"...Hm," relaxing, the man in the leather jacket dropped his fist. As if on cue, security came rolling up. Derek snagged the belligerent father by the back of the shirt and yanked him from the line.

What a whirlwind.

"Hey," the man brushed right past you to crouch in front of Avery, "you good?"

Hesitantly, Avery peeked at the strange man between their fingers.

"I'm okay," they mumbled.

"Hey there, Okay. I'm Alex," he grinned. Avery chuckled.

"Sorry for the uh, scene," Alex carried on, "I can get... passionate. Are you really okay?"

"Yeah," Avery's hands dropped and they smiled up at Alex. Alex nodded.

"Cool. Well, I hope you enjoy meeting the uh, the chicken, right?" He turned to his son, who nodded excitedly.

"Yeah, her name's Chica," Avery said, excitement renewed, "she's so cool! Did you know she has the lightest endoskeleton? It's so Roxy can catch her in the air! She's also- Oh, sorry." Avery laughed.

"It's cool," Alex shrugged, "I take you're also the passionate type?"

"In a sense," Avery nodded. Their face tinted a glorious shade of pink. You couldn't believe your eyes. But you also couldn't stop smiling.

Before Alex could ask Avery for their name (or their number), the line was moving once more. Avery shot to their feet and caught you by the arm.

"Oh my gosh, we'll miss it," they said excitedly. "Oh, uh, bye, Alex! It was nice meeting you!" Avery waved. Alex waved back. He grabbed his son's hand and led him back to their spot in line, thanking the woman behind him for saving it.

As the two of you walked, Avery's expression shifted. You looked at them curiously.

"Something wrong?"

"No," Avery shook their head.

"Just..." Their brow knit. "He just seemed so familiar. I can't put my finger on why that is."

"Maybe he was your lover in a past life," you joked. Avery's face burned and they laughed.

"Him and me? No way. He's way too cool for me," they rubbed the back of their neck.

"I think you're not giving yourself enough credit," you squeezed Avery's hand. Their blush darkened and they looked at their stained up converse.

"I hope we run into him again," they said quietly.

You couldn't help but agree.

#justaduckarts #glimpse of us #DLNS #crossover #oc content #avery my beloved #alex my beloved #the otp is strong #sorry that there's so much tension at first #had to set the scene

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