#forger x storm

[shionne22]

I've kind of always been a storm x Wolverine since I was a child, but I wonder what other people think.

[gaknar]

Holy shit Forge and Banshee are still on the team? I had no memory of this, likely because they, like Jubilee, were left out of the iconic 5 variant cover of X-Men Volume 2 #1, which I had assumed included every member of the team (there were 5 different covers for crying out loud, and they couldn’t fit these guys on there??). I mean, even X-Factor were allowed on those covers, way in the background. How disrespectful! Man, getting on those covers must have been like some kind of reality TV show popularity contest. Anyway, it’s fitting that this story ends in the upper atmosphere, where so many of Chris Claremont’s climactic X-Men moments took place. Is it just me? Or is there a bittersweet sense of regret in these pages, subtly placed there, perhaps unintentionally. Oh to be a fly on the wall at Marvel during the genesis of these changing times. (X-Men Vol. 2 #3 – Dec 1991)

[petri808]

@damianyaweek day 3 Storm aged-up characters, high school Au

Anya Forger cringed. “Those clouds look pretty ugly. I hope it doesn’t storm until I get home.” They were a dark grey and dense, a far cry from the fluffy white shapes of a child’s daydream. 

“Then why don’t I give you a ride,” Becky Blackbell asked her best friend as they walked to the bus stop fronting the school. 

“It’s okay, I’m sure the bus will be here soon.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you at school tomorrow!” Becky waved on her way to the car.

“See ya!” Anya waved back as she sat on the bus bench. 

In the distance, a rolling rumbling sound caused Anya to shrink again. This is ridiculous she chided herself. ‘You’re 16, too old to be scared of storms!’ But as another rumble, this time closer hit, she had to catch herself from whimpering. She’d always hated storms ever since those days in the research facility. Alone and locked up in a tiny room with no one to comfort her through the terrible booms and flashing bolts that lit up her darkened room. ‘Not again, please…’ 

Like dimming a lamp, the sky had gone from light grey to black. All the hairs on her arms stood up as a strange pressure began to build in the air. The trees around campus started to sway as gusts funneled through buildings, creating a horrible whooshing sound. Anya grabbed her cap and held to her cape as the wind picked up even more. The storm was rolling in much faster than she could’ve anticipated! Her eyes started darting around, gauging the best place to run for when—

BOOM! 

Anya screamed and jumped from the enormous clap of thunder. It sounded like it was right above her! Then—

CRACKLE, BOOM! 

Within seconds, a trailing bolt of orange-yellow lightning streaked through the clouds, splintering into hundreds more of rapports and crackling light fingers. 

The tears flooded through in a deluge as Anya curled her legs up onto the bench in a semi-fetal position. Her pulse raced and heart pounded in her chest, breathing short and sharp in a hyperventilating fashion. And through each thunderous clap and spark of light, the poor girl screamed, covering up her head with her arms, hugging her cape as a shield around her. Utterly alone, all the traumas as 007 rushed back to hold her hostage again. The booms… thundering in her ears, a flash of white until the darkness consumed her again…

The only other students left on campus were dormers all rushing for safety too. Damian Desmond and the two amigos were part of this pack as they quickly moved between the classroom building to the dorms. 

That’s when something catches Damian’s attention. He stops to listen, and there it is again. Was that a scream? 

“You guys go, I’ll meet you back at the dorms,” Damian tells his buddies before rushing off and not giving them any explanation. 

He followed the sound towards the front of the school, where he saw a human form curled up under the bus stop. Realizing something was terribly wrong, Damian ran over. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Damian asked as he touched the person’s shoulder. 

When the person only responded with deeper sobbing, he pulled back the cape off their head and saw pink. 

“Anya?! You idiot! What are you still doing out here?!”

But above them, the sky continued its otherworldly cacophony of bass and treble, mixed with wind and percussion, leaving Anya too petrified to move. All she could do was cry out and whimper every time something hit. It was so bad; Damian wasn’t even sure she could hear him. 

“Anya?!”

That’s when he heard something that made even him weary. It was a different kind of rumble, a smoothly consistent drum roll growing louder by the second. “Shit!”

“Ugh! Forger, I swear you’ll be the death of me!” Damian snapped, though his words were completely contrary to his actions. He quickly knelt and picked Anya up. He then bundled her tightly to his chest for balance and took off running from the wall of water heading their way! 

‘Damn it, where do I take her?!’ Damian fretted. The school building was probably locked by now, and the next closest were the dorms. But that was just another dilemma! Boys weren’t allowed in the girl’s side, and vice versa. He could get into a lot of trouble for taking her to his dorm, and that’s if they don’t get caught for sneaking in! 

WHOOSH! 

They only made it a few feet before the wall of water hit. Now Damian really needed to get to safety! ‘Screw it,’ he’ll just have to take his chances because they’re getting soaked every minute they’re outside. 

Damian made it under the eaves of the dorm building, gaining some reprieve from the swirling winds. Now that he had a moment to think clearly, he realized Anya WAS CLINGING TO HIM. Her fingers were tightly gripped to his uniform and face buried into his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey!” Damian hissed at Anya to let go, but she only snuggled closer. 

His face heated up. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Too close! But he also noticed Anya was still trembling pretty badly. He couldn’t be sure if it was from the cold or the seeming panic attack she was experiencing. Nevertheless, he just needed to get to safety, and then he’ll figure out where to go from there. 

Peeking into the front doors glass, Damian doesn’t see anyone, so he slipped in as quietly as possible. The students were most likely in their rooms, so he just needed to avoid any adults. At least the thunder provided some cover noise. 

‘Whew!’ Damian let out a deep breath after making it to his dorm room. No tonitrus bolt tonight. 

“Could you get off me now?!” He hissed. 

But again, Anya was still not answering him. 

“Oi!” 

Silence.

He looked closer and, “seriously?!” Anya was completely passed out. Had she cried herself to sleep?! Damian sank to the floor and leaned against the side of his bed. He was tired. He was wet. And now he had a sleeping girl on his lap! A sleeping girl that he… His face started heating up again, and now his rapid heartbeat had nothing to do with running. After slipping her soaked cape off and unhooking her messenger bag, he brushed her hair away from her face. ‘She’s cute when she’s asleep…’ Damian shook the thought away, then pulled an extra blanket out from under the bed and draped it over to help dry them. ‘I’ll just let her sleep a bit then wake her up.’ Or so he thought…

Four hours later, Anya slowly begun to stir from the warm dampness surrounding her. She opened her eyes to see Damian’s face next to hers. ‘Oh, my—’ her body went stiff, breathing hitched, and heat flared into her cheeks. She was snuggled up in Damian Desmond’s lap! And since he’d fallen asleep too, his head had come to rest against hers. Anya’s head tilted as she gazed at him, ‘… he was kinda cute when he’s asleep…’

She then started looking around to realize… WAS THIS HIS DORM?! How’d she end up here?! And that’s when she started remembering the storm and how she’d started to have a panic attack. It was fuzzy, but she did remember being carried before fully passing out. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Damian saving her… 

‘Oh, no!’ No time to dream, she needed to get home! ‘They must be so worried!’

If Damian woke up now, things would get quite awkward. Anya didn’t want to risk that, so she very carefully peeled herself from his arms… his arms! She blushed even deeper to know he’d held her like a gi— nope not going there! When he still didn’t move, she re-covered him with the blanket, grabbed her bag, and slipped out of the room. She’d thank him later. 

The next day at school, Anya arrived like normal with no plans to bring up the night before unless he did. Not even her parents new the truth, for as far as they knew, she weathered the storm at Becky’s. She went about her day like normal and the few times she’d run into Damian in classes, they both acted like nothing happened. It would be a lie if she didn’t admit there was… hope… but guess it really was just a fluke. And since this was nothing new in their interactions, easy enough to file away in her brain. 

Anya waved goodbye to Becky and sat down on the bus bench. The bus should be there soon, and yay to blue skies! 

“Oi!” 

“Yeah?” Anya turned to see Damian standing beside her. 

Unable to make eye contact, and a blush bloomed on his cheeks, Damian held something out to her. “You forgot this.”

“My cape!” Anya’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed it from him. “I was wondering what happened to it.” 

‘Didn’t know what happened?’ Damian flinched internally. “Do you… do you really not remember anything then?” He asked with hesitation in his tone. Well, she had just snuck out without waking him, so perhaps it meant nothing. Though he’d hoped it would lead somewhere…

“Oh,” now it was Anya’s turn to blush. “No, I remember the storm and then waking up in your room,” her voice softened at the end. “I’d been so scared of the storm, I guess I passed out.”

Damian scratched at the back of his neck, “yeah y-you we’re pretty freaked out, so—”

Her telepathy bells were ringing, though she didn’t need that to tell her Damian was super nervous— It made her heart leap. But at that moment, the bus arrived interrupting the pair. Anya stood up with her things. “Oh, I’m sorry I have to go, but—” she placed a quick kiss on Damian’s cheek. “Thank you for saving me last night!” She smiled. “We can talk more tomorrow if you’d like. Goodbye, Damian!” 

As he watched Anya get on the bus, Damian’s eyes had grown as wide as saucers and mind gone to mush. His hand reached up to touch the fading heat from her lips. ‘She kissed me?!’ A grin took over his face. ‘Guess death by Anya wouldn’t be so bad after all…’

[thehusbandoden]

Just Let me Explain -Husband!Loid Forger x Wife!Reader

A/n: I'm not sure how good this is, feel free to let me know! <3

General info:

Genre: angst, slight comfort at the end \\ wc: 2,711 \\ posted: 03/14/24 \\ unclear ending

Summary:

You find out about Loid's mission.. how he was using you- and Anya.. that's what set you off the most. What hurt you the most.

Warnings!: a lot of angst, being used, misunderstanding, miscommunication, crying, confrontation, being ignored, ignoring, partner refusing to let go of you (briefly), Loid's mission, mentions of an orphanage, mention of an orphan, fear of putting a child back into an orphanage (briefly), mentions of a nightmare, child crying (briefly). I think that's all? Lmk if I miss any! <3

You lived the dream life. You were married to the love of your life, you had a darling young girl you’ve adopted, and you were loved by your small family unconditionally.  

Or... so you thought. That all changed when you found out your husband’s secret. A spy... he was sent on a mission to get married and have a child. Your entire relationship... was it all a lie? 

Tears stream down your face as you process the information time and time again. All of it... was for some mission of his? Did he ever even love you? You weren’t even sure at this point.  

You were currently curled in a ball on the bathroom floor, your back pressed against the door. The man in question spoke to you softly on the other side, asking for you to open the door and let him explain. You don’t respond, continuing to drown in your sorrow.  

Every minute that crawled by felt like an hour. Loid kept calling to you, his voice filling with more concern as you continued to stay silent.  

“Y/n... please... open the door. Let me explain, you’re worrying me.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Loid. I’m done with these mind games.” You whisper, your voice hoarse with sorrow. 

“Y/n... I-I don’t know what to say to that. Please... open the door.” 

“Why? So you can lie to me more? So you can gaslight me? So I can melt into your eyes and go back to believing that everything is okay?”  

“Y/n... please.”  

“No, Loid. I’m done. I’m so done with letting you control me by playing with my feelings. It was all a lie... wasn’t it.”  

Loid hesitates, his voice faltering as he attempts to fix the mess he made.  

“And Anya? She’s a part of your sick game too, isn’t she?” You mutter, your tears drying against your skin. Your sorrow was slowly growing into acceptance.  

“She is a part of my mission, yes.” He whispers.  

You let out a low chuckle filled with bitterness. “And what? What happens once your mission is finished? Do you leave? Stay with us? End us? End *me* now that I know?”  

“No, I wouldn’t ever kil-” his voice falters once more. 

You let out a low laugh that expressed your pain perfectly. “You’re a pathetic excuse as a father. I used to think you were so good to Anya. That you were the perfect father for her- but you plan on *leaving* both of us. Or do you plan on making it worse!? Are you going to end me and leave her in that run-down orphanage again!?” You snap, standing up. 

You feel your acceptance turning into anger as you throw the bathroom door open, glaring up at the man you once called yours.  

“Y/n I-”  

“Why Loid!? Why do you plan on ruining our lives?!”  

“Y/n it’s not that simple.” He sighs, moving aside to give you a path. You take it, storming out of the bathroom. You pace around the living room and kitchen.  

“Don’t give me that. You played friends until you captured my heart, gave me a flimsy love confession-” he flinched “-and then slid an *engagement* ring on my finger for some stupid mission!?”  

He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance to speak. “What about Anya!?” You yell, shoving a finger into his chest. Your anger boiled over at the thought of your precious little girl. She’s been through several homes already; she can’t go back to that horrid orphanage.  

“I-” 

“Are you going to leave us!? Kill me and leave her as an orphan again!? Tell me, Loid!” You demand, staring into his eyes. You used to think you would never treat him like this no matter how angry you got... but the thought of your baby losing another family threw out all self-control.  

“You know me better than that, y/n.” Loid sighs.  

“I don’t Loid. I used to think that you were a good man that worked hard to support his family, but I was wrong. All you are is a selfish pig who cares about nothing but himself.” You spit.  

Loid’s eyebrow twitches. You don’t notice. 

“Anya deserves better than this, Loid! Were you really planning on leaving us alone once your mission is finished!? Were you going to give us a goodbye or were you going to just leave!?”  

He still doesn’t say anything. Your anger slowly boils over, every second he ignores you adding another drop into the already over-filled cup of self-restraint. “I... do not know what I was going to do.”  

Another drop falls, spilling the rage over. You pull yourself away, so you don’t physically lash out. “I can’t believe I loved you!? I can’t believe that I trusted you, Loid! Was it all fake!?”  

Loid doesn’t respond.  

“Was it fake!” You repeat, trembling with rage and hurt. “Answer me!”  

Loid has an unreadable expression on his face as he looks into your eyes. “Yes, it was fake...” his eyes twinge with something you can’t read. Shrugging it off, you desperately try to hold yourself together.  

“So every time you said you loved me back. It was all a lie?”  

“Yes...”  

“Every time you told *Anya* you loved her back. It was a lie!?”  

An unreadable look in his eye makes your lip tremble. “Yes...”  

“So, you were planning on leaving us? All along?”  

“Stop asking questions, it’s annoying.” His gaze hardens.  

“Loi-”  

“I said, stop asking questions.” He glares down at you. “I do not love you, nor Anya. Either keep quiet and continue to help with my mission, or you will no longer be needed.” 

You feel something crack deep inside you. You try to hold yourself together as your hands shake uncontrollably. “I hate you.” You whisper. Loid flinched, watching you walk to the guest room. You close the door, locking it behind you.  

Once the door closes, you break down once more. Falling to the floor as your body is wracked with sobs.  

~~ 

Hours pass by before you come out again. Loid was sitting on the couch, reading a book. You would have smiled at the simplicity earlier this morning, but now all you feel is numb. You slip a pair of slippers on, grabbing your keys.  

“Where are you going?” Loid speaks up, his gorgeous blue eyes finding yours. You turn away, refusing to maintain eye contact.  

You don’t respond, walking out the door. Loid lets out a long sigh but doesn’t follow you.  

~~ 

“A-and then Sy-on boy made fun of Becky! I didn’t punch him though mama! I smiled like you said!”  

“Good job baby.” You mumble, a plastic smile on your face. The words of your precious girl weren’t registering in your head, you were too focused on the fact that your husband- ex-husband? You don’t even know anymore- is really planning on leaving both you and Anya when his mission is over. 

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, you see Anya close to tears. You immediately go into protective mode, your eyes hardening as you pull over. “Anya what happened sweetie? Did something happen at school? Are you being bullied? Did someone hurt you??” You bite your bottom lip to confine your rage, the metallic taste of blood staining your tongue.  

“N-no mama! Nothing happened at school!” Anya sniffled, trying to contain her tears.  

“What is it baby? You can tell me, I’m your mama.” You coo, rubbing her hair gently, pressing a comforting kiss to her forehead.  

“I-I u h... umm...” Anya starts to sweat, looking around the car. 

“Shhh it’s okay baby. You can tell me.” 

“B-Bond ate my peanuts!” Anya blurts out, showing you an empty bag of peanuts. There was no sign of damage from your family dog, she must have just forgotten that she ate them, which happens frequently.  

“Oh baby, it’s okay. We can buy more, alright? Next time tell mama what the problem is so we can fix it, m’kay?”  

“Yes mama.”  

“That’s my smart girl.” You kiss her forehead once more, savoring the relationship you have with her. You’ve always wanted to be a mother, and Anya fulfilled that desire. You were hoping you and Loid could have a few of your own one day, but that’s not going to happen... 

You make sure Anya is buckled before moving back to your own seat, strapping your seat belt on before pulling back onto the road. 

~~~ 

“Daddy! Look at what mama got me!” Anya squeals in excitement, bursting through the front door. She runs into the kitchen where Loid was pacing, embracing his legs. He flinches at the sudden entrance, but gives the girl a small smile, leaning down to her level. 

You walk in afterwards, shutting and locking the door. “Anya, don’t forget to change!” You call, placing a few grocery bags on the kitchen counter.  

“Yes mama!” She calls, pouting up at Loid. 

He chuckles, leaning down to ruffle her hair. “Go listen to your mother, Anya. And don’t let her see you with your shoes on the carpet, alright?” He smiles, an amused twinkle in his eye.  

You would have melted at the scene... if you didn’t know.  

Loid catches your gaze, causing you to frown. Even though he’s planning on completely ruining not only your life, but Anya’s he looks so... relaxed. 

You open your mouth to say something, when you notice it. 

His eyes... were red. Your frown deepens... you’ve only seen Loid cry once, and he never mentioned it when you did.  

~ 

It was before Anya, in the first few months of your marriage. You had woken up in the middle of the night to see him whimpering in his sleep.  

He whimpered “mom” and “dad” several times, tears slipping down his cheeks as he cried for anyone to help him. You gently woke him out of his nightmare, pulling him to your chest. He was shocked from the whiplash of being in such a traumatizing past one moment to being in your arms the next.  

He let you cradle him to your chest, his head comfortingly resting on your breasts. You stroked his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort to him, letting him recover from the terrifying dream.  

You laid with him for several hours before falling back asleep yourself. You don’t know how long he held onto you, but he was up the next time you woke up. He hasn’t mentioned it, and he probably never will.  

~ 

Words catch in the back of your throat. Before you’re able to formulate anything, Anya catches your attention. You look back at your red-eyed husband once more before turning to your little girl.  

“Anya, what have I told you about taking your shoes straight away?” You gently scold, lifting her off of the carpet.  

“Sorry mama!” Anya’s cute pout makes your heart melt, causing you to grow even softer. You sigh, placing her down in the entrance of the home. 

“Just take them off now and do better next time, alright?”  

“Yes mama!” Her giggle was worth the stress. You smile fondly at your baby girl, watching her take her shoes off.  

“Y/n.” Loid whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck. You stiffen, clenching your jaw.  

“Let go of me.” You whisper, biting your lip.  

“Y/n, let me talk.”  

“Let go of me.” 

“Y/n-” his voice cracks. 

You pull away, walking over to Anya. Loid’s voice cracks again. You don’t turn to look at him. If you looked at his guilt-ridden face for too long, you would break. 

~~ 

Later that night. You were silently washing the dishes after Anya went to bed, your expression unreadable. Loid was in the living room, watching you work. He sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. “Y/n?” He murmured.  

You don’t respond, your eyebrow twitching in irritation. Loid let out a strained sigh, standing up. He takes a step towards you, hesitating.  

“Y/n, please don’t ignore me...”  

You don’t say anything, biting your lip to maintain a calm composure... well as calm as you’re able to be. 

“Y/n.” His voice grew sharper as he steps into the dimly lit kitchen, his voice full of frustration and a hint of something you can’t understand.  

You continue to ignore him, causing him to let out another sigh, longer this time. “Y/n please.” He steps closer.  

Your fingers dig into your palms as you continue to ignore him. Your shoulders tremble from intense emotion, tears bubbling in the corners of your eyes.  

“Y/n...” he whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your waist. He gently takes your hands, intertwining your fingers so your nails dug into his hands instead of your own. You lift the pressure, not wanting to hurt him.  

“Let go of me.” You whisper, your voice trembling.  

“Y/n, just let me explain.” He whispered in your ear. Your breath hitched at his warm breath on your skin, wanting to give in to his comfort and break down in his arms. You get a hold of yourself, stiffening in his hold.  

“I don’t want to hear you explain.”  

“Y/n-”  

“Loid. Let go of me.”  

“Baby. Baby listen.” He whispers, shaking as he holds you close to his chest. You gasp softly, tears slipping down your cheeks. Loid has rarely used pet names for you, telling you that he thought it was childish and would much rather call you by name. You didn’t mind it, but it did make you feel so loved when you heard any pet name from his lips.  

“My love, it’s not what it looks like. Let me explain. Let me earn your trust back, just please... Please don’t leave. Don’t take my beloved away, don’t take our baby girl.” He sniffled, causing you to stiffen.  

Was he... about to cry...? 

You don’t protest any further, letting him talk. He hesitates at first, holding you tighter as he buries his face in your neck. “You’re right. This started as a mission. I was tasked to get a wife and child, enroll the child in Eden Academy, and get information on a man that is a great risk to us. It *started* as nothing but a mission, without any feelings attached.” Loid muttered, sounding exhausted and... ashamed?  

“Y-you don’t love me? Or Anya?” Your voice cracked with inexpressible hurt.  

“No! No baby I do. I love you; I love you to the moon and back. I love you more than myself- more than anyone, anything! And Anya too! I would do anything for my girls.” Loid quickly protests, holding you tighter, like he was afraid of letting you go; like you would disappear if he ever let you out of his hold. 

“B-but you said...”  

Loid spins you around, looking you dead in the eye as he fondly cradles your face, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “In the beginning, it was all for my mission. I’ll be dead honest y/n. When I met you, when we dated, I had zero feelings for you. But that changed. I fell in love with you-” his voice cracks, tears streaming down his own cheeks, “-I saw you for you saw how much you loved me, how perfect you are... that love confession was real. My love for Anya is real. And I would rather be gruesomely killed than ever let anything happen to my girls. I would- nor could never leave either of you. You are my world, and I cannot live without you.”  

Your tears quickened as you stared into the eyes of your husband, truth and overwhelming guilt swimming in their deep blue depths. You choke on a response, tears dripping off your chin.  

“Shhhh it’s okay baby.” He whispers, pulling you to his chest. He caresses your head, leaning his lips against your forehead. He kisses your forehead slowly and lovingly, adding another and another to the pile as you break down in his warm, comforting arms.  

“I promise baby. I would never leave you. I could never leave you. You are my world, my universe, my everything. I am nothing without you and our little girl. Our beautiful little girl.” He whispers, kissing your tears away.  

As you sob into his chest, he gently and lovingly dries off your hands before lifting you into his strong arms. He carries you to bed, cradling you to his chest as he lays down, cooing comforting words.  

You peacefully fall asleep in his arms, your face buried in his chest as you sob, listening to his soothing words as he slowly strokes your head and back.  

~~~~~

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Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[cinnamon-guardian]

SPY x FAMILY has a really fun way of making sure “The Big Guy” (Yor) doesn’t solve everything in 5 seconds.

A lot of other stories tend to keep The Big Guy from fixing everything by just writing them out entirely, but it’s honestly kinda trite.

“Oh no, Superman ran into the nth person with Kryptonite! Can the Justice League still save the day?”

“Oh no, Storm got knocked out by a sneak attack. Guess the X-Men can’t count of her really strong weather powers today.”

“Oh no, Goku’s out of town and he can’t reach us yet! Will the others survive long enough for him to make it back?”

But Yor tends not to get written out of the plot that deliberately. She just has zero context for anything that’s going on.

She thinks that she’s living with a kindly widower and his adorable (totally not adopted a week ago) daughter, and that’s basically it for the Forgers. Loid and Anya keep her 100% in the dark, so they never fill her in on the situation because Loid assumes that she’s just a civilian and Anya just really needs this family to stick together.

Loid and Anya have to worry about terrorists and enemy spies and everything while Yor’s just going about her day and feeling peachy keen.

But the second she realizes that someone’s trying to hurt her loved ones:

This is the woman who kicked a man through a metal ceiling. This is the woman who kicked another man so hard that he ricocheted off the walls of an alleyway like a pinball. This is the woman who can kick a car off the road without even trying.

(Side tangent, but I’m only just now realizing how much kicking Yor does. Kicks for days.)

The narrative tension doesn’t come from Yor being in a coma or being far away, it’s that Loid and Anya can’t tell her what’s happening because of their own secrets, so Yor only gets to step in when the situation is already out of their control. And when she does, she puts the fear of god into whoever they’re facing.

[sednonamoris]

thunderstruck

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: A storm brews over your journey with John to meet an old friend and make a profit on the Braithwaite horses. What will happen when lightning strikes?

Warnings: Jealousy, emotional constipation, past relationships, strong language, love confessions, handjobs, penetrative sex, spit as lube (smut easily avoided if you want to skip over it)

Word count: 4,418

A/N: whew!! twenty-three chapters later these two finally got together - i hope you all have enjoyed the ride, and look forward to the rest as much as i do!! let me know what you think <3

Series masterlist • AO3

—

Thunderhead Gulch is an average plains town situated, as the name might suggest, over a gulch where a violent stream rumbles through otherwise quiet countryside. The rockiness of the area lends itself to pastureland and little else; herds of cattle roam and graze, and farmers with rough hands and kind eyes tend their flocks. The town’s storefronts are simple but well-kept, very much like the people who run them. It’s a place for good, honest people looking for good, honest work. 

And it’s exactly where a perfect criminal lives.

Half a week’s worth of travel brought you here, all the while John asking questions you’ve done your best to avoid answering. An old friend from Tumbleweed, is all you’ve told him about the forger you’re meeting. Just a quick reunion and a job done right and we’re out of there. There’s no one else you’d trust to do this job right, but it’s been a long time. You can’t entirely blame John for the skeptical scowl on his face. 

The curio shop you hitch your horses in front of is nestled into Thunderhead’s downtown like it’s been there forever, fit to burst with every secondhand oddity imaginable. Broken clocks and one-eyed dolls and discontinued dime novel serials line the front windows. Inside, a narrow and winding footpath from front to back is all that remains to customers. Every other square inch has been claimed by stacks upon stacks upon stacks of the curiosities this shop is named for.

You and John squeeze your way through the door to the cheerful tinkle of bells. Behind the counter lies a precarious stack of antique bear traps. There’s not a shopkeep in sight. 

“Hello?” John calls out.

“In the back!” a muffled voice replies.

You smile in recognition. John’s expression is entirely mystified, but he takes the look on your face as his go-ahead to forge a path through, weaving around cracked China displays and rusted revolvers and moth-eaten wedding gowns.

Past all that, between stacks of other men’s trash and lost treasures, sits Lottie Reed.

Surprise colors her sharp, angular face the moment she looks up from the faded throw pillow she’s mending, and though time has wrought its changes you still recognize the wild spirit you met once upon a childhood ago in the depths of her seafoam eyes. 

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a Ghost?” she asks. Her face is still surprised, still cautious, but a smile threatens the severity of her shock. 

“I’m afraid your shop is terribly haunted, Miss,” you grin.

Just like that her needle and thread are thrown aside as she rushes in for a hug. Her wiry frame curls around you in a vice grip, stood on her tip-toes and clinging like if she holds tight enough you won’t be able to fade away like lost memory. You laugh and hug back warmly. It’s been too long. 

John coughs uncomfortably after a moment.

“Oh, I clean forgot my manners,” you say, extricating yourself from Lottie’s embrace and taking a step back. “Lottie Reed, this is John Marston.” John gives a lukewarm smile. “John Marston, this is my old friend Lottie Reed. We grew up together.” Lottie extends her hand to shake.

“Good to meet you,” John says past his stiff shoulders and wary stare. “Ghost never mentioned much of you before.”

“We lost touch for a spell once I married and moved up here,” Lottie says. John raises his brows. You clear your throat. “Back in the day I earned a cut off stolen horseflesh for forging papers, but Melvin didn’t like me being a part of that life.”

As you recall, he didn’t like you being a part of Lottie’s life. The two of you lived fast and free before he came into the picture, a perfect suitor picked by her parents. Settled, property-owning, and respectable, Melvin was everything Lottie’s family ever imagined for their lettered daughter. You, a cast off orphan with nothing to your name but a government arrest warrant, were not.

“Wherever is Mr. Reed?” 

“Dead. The fever got him two years ago.” Lottie smiles wistfully. “I wrote, but I don’t imagine you ever got the letter.”

“I’m… real sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing because he’s dead or for a letter you never read. Maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t try to get in touch until now. You never liked Melvin much, but you and Lottie... Well. It’s all in the past now, where things get twisted and lost and can’t ever change.

“Any chance you’re still in the paper fixin’ business?” John asks. Tension looses from your shoulders at the change in topic. “Ghost and I got a couple horses that need buyers, and from what I understand they’d go for a prettier penny with your help.” 

Lottie stands up straighter, businesslike, when she says yes.

“Melvin left me everything, but as you can see,” she gestures to the worthless paraphernalia surrounding you, “it isn’t much. Why don’t you stay by the house tonight while I fix up those papers? It’s been a sight too empty for too long. I’d like the company.”

“We’ll be there,” you promise, clasping her hand before stepping away.

It’s been too long since you’ve slept in a proper bed with a roof over your head, and longer still since you’ve caught up with an old friend. John’s mouth tightens when you say it, maybe because you agreed without asking, but you can’t imagine why a hot meal and some company would bother him. It never has before.

—

Dinner proves an awkward affair.

By the time you and John broke camp and herded your stolen horses to the property, twilight had already painted the house and neighboring barn in dreamy purples and golds. John bitched the whole time you put the horses up, set off by something he refused to tell you about. Then when Lottie met you at the front door in a pretty green dress with her dark curls pulled up it only got worse. She ushered you both into her humbly lit dining room, where a wonderful meal awaited. He glared through the whole affair, despite the warmth of the fire and the kindness piled on every plate. You asked for seconds. He asked to be excused. 

Now he’s off sulking somewhere while you show Lottie the horses down at the barn. So long as he doesn’t scare any buyers away you just have to trust that this mood of his will pass with time. 

Old Father Time nickers you back to the present, begging for a treat that Lottie offers up gladly. She giggles at the tickle of his whiskers when he takes it from her outstretched palm. His dark coat gleams even in the nighttime. Autocrat paws and tosses his dappled head. Cerberus whickers for his own share of attention, earning an affectionate scratch behind the ear. As you introduce each stallion and his accomplishments Lottie hums thoughtfully, mentions a few adjustments she’d like to make on their papers accordingly. It’s nice to work with a professional. You’d almost forgotten what the luxury of forged papers felt like, so long spent with unlettered outlaws and people otherwise uninterested in the horse business. 

“They’re fine animals,” Lottie says, then gestures to Old Boy and Moonshine. “What about these two?”

“I found Old Boy there skinny and abandoned. Perfect timing that John needed a new horse. He put the weight back on him and has him trained up nice.” 

“And the roan?”

“A friend died and left this beast behind,” you say with an affectionate pat to Moonshine’s silver-blue neck over the stall door. He rolls an ornery eye at you, but doesn’t offer a bite like he might have just a few months ago. “He’s mean, but he’s mine.”

Lottie laughs. “Like your cowboy, then.”

“He ain’t—we’re not—” you fumble, “I don’t—”

“The outlaw doth protest too much, methinks,” she cuts you off gently, with that smile full of home and heartbreak. The quote scratches at almost-lost memory in the back of your mind. Summers spent sneaking into a family home through the second story bedroom window. A warm hand in yours. Her familiar voice reciting Shakespeare while you pretended to understand the lines you parroted back. 

“The outlaw protests just enough,” you frown. “He ain’t mine, though I will apologize on his behalf for the way he acted at dinner. John’s plenty mean, but not like that. Not usually, anyway.”

“He’s jealous,” she says like it’s obvious. “I can hardly blame him.”

“If he wants you, I ain’t standin’ in the way, Miss High-and-Mighty,” you laugh, caught off guard by the sudden turn in conversation. It’s a high-up, nervous sound.

“Miss Nothing-to-him,” she corrects. “Can’t you see? That man only has eyes for you.” 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted to hear and you’re not quite sure what to say. Emotions flash through you like lightning and brush fire, electric scorches of surprise and denial and self-deprecation. Longing. Hope.

“You think?” is all you manage to muster.

Lottie’s eyes are far too sympathetic. “I know.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Your shoulders cringe even as you ask it. Some things are just worth checking. 

She sighs, turns to face you fully, and takes your hands in hers. “I loved after you for a long time. The idea of you, really. A dashing outlaw and a horseback rescue from the life I didn’t want.” She offers a wry smile as she continues, “I only heard that you took Daddy’s money and ran long after the wedding was over.” You start to apologize, but she cuts you off before it ever leaves your mouth. “It’s done, now. I don’t think either of us would go back and change it if we could. I’m happy here, now, and you have your cowboy. Your John. It’s time you let yourself be happy, too.” 

“Funny enough, you’re not the first person who’s said that to me.” You drop your chin and try to stop the burn of tears that threatens your composure as you squeeze her bookish hands with your calloused ones. “Thank you, Lottie.”

She squeezes back and smiles. “You’re welcome.”

When she says your name, you feel a little less like a ghost. 

—

On the walk back up to the house you spy movement in an upstairs window. Just a blur by candlelight. 

You wonder how much John saw from up there. If jealousy burns his eyes and the back of his throat the way it used to for you, watching him and Abigail together. It lights a spark of something low in your belly, hope or want or vindication. A grim, simmering promise of things to come.

—

The next morning greets you sunshine-bright and singing. The grasses sway gently with the breeze. The birds flit from leafy tree limbs outstretched in the sky’s great blue embrace. Lottie insists on giving you not only the agreed-upon papers, but breakfast for the road as well. The fistfull of cash you fetch from your saddlebag is more than she asked for, but when she protests you push her hands back gently. After everything, it’s fitting payment.

“Ride safe, now,” she tells you, shielding the sun from her greenglass eyes to look up at your mounted form. “It’s nice now, but a storm’s brewing. Can you smell it on the breeze?”

You can. Sunshine undercut with petrichor and the buzzing, electric promise of lightning. “We will. Thank you again, Lottie. For everything.” Live well.

“The same to you, old friend,” she smiles your way, then turns to John. “Keep an eye on this one, will you?”

“Always do.” His voice is curt, and his eyes are sharp and unkind when he says it.

Mean, you think as you sneak a look at his striking profile. But mine.

You wave one last goodbye before riding off, stolen horses in tow, false paperwork tucked into your breast pocket. The pair of you make for the horizon line and don’t look back.

—

John is quiet in the coming days. Uncharacteristically so. You catch him staring at you when he thinks you don’t see; eyeing the length of your neck as you drink from your canteen, memorizing the planes of your face lit by campfire, burning a hole in your back as you ride ahead. All the ways you’ve watched him since you were young and scared and barely knew what to call the ache in your chest and the scorch of your want. That anguish which even now you refuse to name; you know what it is. 

Maybe Lottie was right.

Maybe John knows it too.

—

As you ride toward the next town, and the next one, and the next, the sky darkens from shades of blue to grey to not-quite-black. The storm hasn’t hit yet, but rain heralds its coming on the wind. In the hoofbeats of the horses you hear thunder.

—

A man in tweed with a curled mustache buys Cerberus behind a saloon in Split River. John orders you both a round of drinks to celebrate. His fingers brush against yours when you toast your glasses together. It tastes of wildfire. Stings the whole way down.

You’re forced to leave when he almost takes a man’s head off for asking you to share a dance shortly after. The jaunty fiddle tune haunts your steps into the lamplit streets as you beat your hasty retreat, John’s shoulder clasped tight beneath your burnt whiskey fingertips.

—

In Steelhead, a farmer with a nose for a pedigree takes Autocrat off your hands. That night he puts the pair of you up with his other farmhands to get you out of the nighttime chill. It’s a kindness you hadn’t counted on, but it feels cruel the moment you see a man, broad and strong with eyes the same shade as yours, agree to light John’s cigarette. Across the room they lean in close. Closer. The butts of their cigarettes glow shrouded in smoke as they share the intimacy of nicotine breath, but the whole time John’s eyes are on yours. A punishment. A dare. 

In a bedroll as far from everyone else as the room allows, you don’t sleep a wink.

The following morning breaks grey and ominous. You can’t leave the place far enough behind. 

—

Rushing Spring houses Old Father Time’s new owner, a fashionable young woman whose father can refuse her nothing. He barely looks the horse over before offering more than your asking price, and you shake his hand without giving him a moment to think twice. 

“Better get going if we want to beat this weather,” John says as they walk away with their new purchase. His eyes are squinted up at the sky, storm grey and swirling. It’s the most he’s offered to speak since Lottie’s.

“You’re right,” you agree. But as you glance up at the churning clouds above you, you’re not so sure that you will.

—

The rain catches you the next afternoon in open country, not a settlement in sight. It starts as a drizzle, errant drops that speckle the leather of your saddle and pepper Moonshine’s coat, but soon crescendos into an all-out pour. It comes so thick and fast that you can hardly see John and Old Boy just a horselength in front of you. John turns to shout something over the downpour, but the wind snatches his words. It’s too dark to read his lips.

When he turns his horse away you follow blind.

There’s a rockface somewhere off to the left, you know. You’ve seen irregular shelves and outcroppings from a distance. Maybe John spied something like that before the rain came? Maybe he’s just trusting that he’ll find shelter before an errant lightning strike hits anything nearby. Whatever the case is, his luck holds. You endure only a few more minutes of being utterly soaked before the dark, yawning mouth of a cave opens up before you.

The horses shake their dripping coats the moment you step inside. Their unshod hoofbeats echo with the rainfall. Lightning flashes, lighting your surroundings for a heartbeat and a half. It’s enough to see that the cave doesn’t run dangerously deep; you need not fear it housing some slumbering bear or wildcat’s den, but it’s enough to keep the rain from soaking you entirely. So long as it doesn’t flood, you guess.

Without so much as a word you and John fall into a routine that’s been established since you were kids. You untack and hobble the horses, toweling them dry as best you can. Moonshine tenses beneath your hands at the distant rumble of thunder rolling ever closer. John starts a fire and gets to warming food. Canned beans, it looks like. Better than nothing. You set the tent tarp on the ground to keep the bedrolls dry. The extra blankets you have packed away aren’t quite wet. It’s a sadder, damper camp than you normally pull together, but in the wake of this weather you’d be hard-pressed to do better.

You huddle close to the small fire with your plate of food. John sits opposite you and says nothing. Just watches. You watch back. The way his sharp features accentuate with shadow. The way his damp skin is drenched in firelight. His hair is plastered to his cheek, and your fingers twitch with longing to smooth it back and kiss the raindrops from his lips. When the next lightning strike flashes, you see unmasked want reflected back in his eyes.

“John…” you start, but can’t find the right words. How do you give voice to thoughts you’ve smothered for years now? How would you even begin? 

“I need a drink after all that,” he says, pulling his flask from his belt and taking a swig. “How ‘bout you?”

Your mouth is terribly dry. “Sure.” 

The offer doesn’t surprise you, but the way he hands it over, slow and deliberate, your fingers brushing together, does. Instead of retreating back to his side of the fire he remains with his hungry eyes and sharp mouth. You can’t quite bring yourself to look away as you drink. It burns like whiskey, but it tastes like him.

“Somethin’ else out there,” he says, inclining his head toward the mouth of the cave. Lightning flashes, and a clap of thunder - the closest one yet - punctuates his statement. “Reminds me of all them years ago, picking you up out of the mud. You remember that?”

“How could I forget? Saved my life.” Marked it forever. Changed it. For better or for worse.

“Every time it storms I think about that day,” he confesses. His hand reaches up for your face, cupping your cheek. You swear your heart stops. His brows knit together. “I don’t know that I would’ve saved anyone else.”

“I’m not sure I would’ve let anyone else do the saving.”

The rough pad of his thumb strokes the side of your neck. You swallow past a dry mouth and watch his eyes trace the line of your throat. Firelight flickers across his features. He leans in closer.  

“It was always gonna be you and me, wasn’t it?” His breath fans your lips; whiskey and want. 

Lightning arcs across the sky outside, lighting his face in that same eerie glow it did the day you met. He’s so beautiful. You’re so tired of pretending.

Before the thunder has a chance to crash, you answer him with a kiss. 

It’s everything.

Electric.

You feel the boom of thunder in your chest when it comes, feel his hands wandering there and know it’s where they’ve always belonged. When he bites your lip and pushes you onto your back, your body accommodates him without thinking. He settles into the space between your legs and pulls back just long enough to admire, a wolfish gleam in his eye. What a sight you must be, spread out and chest heaving, eyes blown wide with years’ worth of want, face half-lit by the fire. 

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, and then kisses you again. “Should’a done that sooner.”

But you’re here now, and it’s everything you could ever want or imagine. Better, somehow. You know John better than you know yourself and still his passion surprises you as he presses chapped-lip kisses further and further down your neck. You gasp when he bites down and feel him smirk against your rainsoaked skin. He’s paid back in kind with a sharp tug at the root of his hair, your hand tangled in those long, dark strands. A groan sounds from deep in his chest and he pulls away long enough for you to see the grey of his eyes go black.

“Tell me you want this,” he says. 

“I want it.” You squirm, rolling your hips against his just to see desire glaze across his face. “I want you.”

“Shit, Ghost,” he says. “You always had me. I’m yours. It’s all yours.”

Whether he means his body or his heart or his soul you don’t rightly know. Right now you hardly care. All you know is that his hands are all over you at once, pulling layer after layer of soaked clothing away until you’re almost completely bare beneath him. Your nipples pebble against the sudden exposure to evening storm air, and his hungry eyes watch your every move, every breath beneath him. He’s a sight himself; half hard already, those soaked-through breeches plastered to his skin leaving little to the imagination. His hair is all a mess and his scars stand out against scarlet and his eyes are dark and bright. You help him tear his clothes away and grin when his broad, lean chest gleams in the flickering light of the campfire. You run your fingers against the dark hair there and feel him shudder beneath your touch. Heat rushes to your core when he removes his pants, leaving his cock exposed and flush against his stomach. You move to lick a stripe down your hand when he grabs your wrist.

“Don’t,” he says, face flushed. Eyes bright. “I like when it hurts, a little.”

He licks his lips. You grin and take him in your hand. His breath catches and his hips stutter as you set a slow, steady, punishing rhythm. 

“Goddamn,” he curses. “Just like that.”

You’re dizzy with power and want. Seeing the effect you have on him, his chest heaving, his eyes rolled toward the heavens, makes that simmering warmth in your belly start to boil over. You smooth a calloused fingerpad over his tip just to watch him shudder. Precup smears. His eyes squeeze shut, and all too soon he’s pushing your hands away.

You tilt your head in question and he grins, half-shy. “I ain’t gonna last if you keep that up.”

“That’s the point, dumbass.”

He shakes his head, bends to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Want to feel you, first.”

Heat floods your body from your chest to your fingertips at the confession.

Hard to argue with that.

He makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat watching you wriggle out of your pants, moaning outright when you take his hand and put his fingers in your mouth. His eyes glaze over and he thrusts them to the back of your throat just once to see what happens. You hum around them. His eyes go even darker.

Hesitantly, maybe even a little reverently, he starts to work you open. The further he goes and the more you relax into it, the rougher and more confident he becomes. One finger becomes two, becomes three. Still you want more.

“Yeah?” he says as you moan, half cocky and half like he can’t believe he’s the lucky son of a bitch making you see stars. You hate that it wrecks you the way that it does.

“Yeah,” you breathe, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you back properly, thoroughly, before lining up to your entrance and thrusting in all at once. It’s that special kind of too-much ecstasy, your vision going dark and your voice keening at the sensation.

“Shit, you feel good,” he whines.

“Please, John,” you say, though you’re not sure what you’re begging for other than more. 

Lightning screams through the storming sky outside and his pale skin glows in white-hot light. He takes you apart to the sound of fading thunder and falling rain. You shift to meet the thrust of those narrow hips halfway, and rake your fingers down his back with each burst of pleasure. If there’s such a thing as completion, it must be this. The way your bodies fit together, the way you know every thought that flashes behind the wolfish want in his eyes. Each unspoken, understood I love you. He taught you to do it long before he recognized the feeling returned, and when you finally reach the peak of your pleasure you sigh it into his skin.

I love you, John Marston.

“Fuck, Ghost,” he pants. “Fuck. I love you too.” 

His thrusts get sloppy, chasing his own high, and when he pulls out and spends himself across your stomach his voice cracks saying your name. It’s never sounded sweeter.

After a few settling breaths John leans down and presses a firm kiss to your forehead. You miss his warmth for only moments when he rolls away to find a rag to clean you up. The two of you fall asleep in one another’s arms. Outside, the rain slows and fades away to a drizzle, then nothing.

—

You wake the next morning to wiry arms wrapped around you and John’s face pressed into your stomach. He snores softly, and you allow yourself a quiet moment to admire his sleeping form. It’s impossible to stop the fond smile that steals across your face. Carefully, carefully, you extricate yourself from his embrace.

When you step outside, morning birdsong greets you. The grass beneath your feet is as dewy as the pinks and yellows and robin’s egg blues that paint the sky above. It’s the kind of sunrise that only comes after a storm.

You lean against the rockface and light a cigarette, watching the smoke dissipate on the fresh morning breeze. It isn’t long before John joins you. Wordlessly you pass him your cigarette, and wordlessly he takes a drag. He breathes smoke into the air and smiles.

Together you watch the sun rise.

[innocent-cat]

Hello, if you're still taking request could it be headcanons with with Vax, Percy, and Vex. (Separately)

Where the S/O is a lot like Yor Forger.

GUESS WHO IS BACK!!!!

Oh my gosh, I love SpyxFamily! right away xx

Reader x Vox Machina

Warnings - None

"Scarlet paint on their face", Assassin!Reader x Various

Vax

Okay, so, weird thing about both Vax AND Vex, they're extremely stalkerish.

the very MOMENT they thought you were acting even slightly suspicious, they immediately discussed it with each other.

"Vex-" "Yes, me too."

they most def hear EVERYTHING you do.

They had a little book that had information about everything you did.

your fault, why aren't you home by the mandatory curfew (that they implemented that nobody in fact listens to) of 8PM sharp?

You'll usually feel Vax's eyes on you when you come home after a bounty, but you choose to pretend you're oblivious to it so you can continue acting clueless.

HOWEVERRRR he eventually cornered you and confronted you.

you walked in and he was just like.. leaning against the wall all nerdy.. so you kinda just.. side eyed him and walked by..

"Where have you been?"

your heart dropped to your asssssss, him confronting you was so much scarier than it needed to be.

"What are you talking about?"

"We know you've been sneaking out. You're never home by 8."

"..Nobody follows that anyway, Vax.. not even Pikes home right now. Who are you, my dad?" You raised an eyebrow at him as you spoke down to him for asking you what's been going on.

"Vex told me you went to a washers covered in blood. What's that all about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe don't stalk random people, it's creepy, Vax." You scoff, and storm off to your room.

You sit down in your bed and heave a sigh, letting the knife drop that was hidden between your arm and side under your oversized blouse.

Vex

Vex was the first one to actually confront you and get an answer.

(all combined head cannons above for vax btw)

she low-key scared tf out of you when you turned the corner and saw her.

full on mom stance, arms crossed, face seething..

scary.

"If you won't tell Vax, you better tell me now."

Now, mind you, it was like.. 2am.. and you tried sneaking back in because you didn't have time for a outfit change.. so you did in fact look very incriminating with a knife in your hand, drenched in blood.

You have no clue to get out of it, so you fake cry xx

You drop your knife and start crying into your hands, mumbling.

Vex's face DROPS, and she goes to you and holds you, rocking you in her arms.

"I'm not MAD, I'm just upset you didn't tell me.."

After the little cry, she helps you clean yourself up from them on because OBVIOUSLY what gf wouldn't help.

she was honestly just mad you didn't tell her..

(sorry her's is so short!! I'm like super duper tired rn)

Percy

lmfaooo Percy been knew

the two of you have always just kind of

not talked about it?

of course, you both are aware that the other KNOWS,

it's just Percy wants to make sure he doesn't say something rude to you

he loves u too much xx

He frequently stitches you up, cleans your wounds, and washes your clothes when you come home after killing someone.

Of course, he understands you're very dangerous and skilled, but the fact you're his s/o comes before your large bounty.

"Again? Seriously? You're getting too injured to endure this job." he sighed out to you, frowning at your dampened physical state.

You did not reply, but you looked away, towards a a window opposite of him. You matched his face, frowning.

You flinch back as he applies alcohol to your wound, hissing slightly to your pain.

"Sorry." He mumbled out, and he lifted your shirt more.

He bandages the wound, sealing it so it doesn't become infected. He then pulls off your shirt, and sets it aside to wash later, handing you a new, clean shirt of your own.

he literally loves you so much please assure this boy you'll be fine

[lilacskiesapothecary]

“…Always watching…”

L x You

L, driven by his insatiable curiosity, starts to surveillance you to gain information. “With every step I take, I find myself drawn to your enigmatic light, compelled to uncover the secrets that lie within your mysterious existence.”

“As I observe from the shadows, my curiosity intensifies, fueled by the desire to unravel the truth. Your every move becomes a puzzle I'm determined to solve, your actions holding the key to understanding your enigma. But amidst my relentless pursuit of knowledge, something unexpected happens.”

“A connection begins to form, a bond that transcends the boundaries of my investigation. Your presence awakens emotions within me that I never thought possible. I'm torn between my duty as a detective and the growing affection I feel for you. It's a conflict that consumes me, as I grapple with the line between my investigation and matters of the heart.”

“Yet, danger lurks in the shadows, threatening to expose our fragile connection. Your secrets become entangled with my own, and the consequences of my actions loom over us. Can I protect you from the darkness that surrounds us? Can the love I have for you withstand the storms that lie ahead?”

“As the story unfolds, I find myself facing my deepest fears and questioning the very nature of justice. You become my solace in a world filled with chaos and despair. I’ve become enthralled by your hair as it dances in the wind, a wild and untamed beauty that matches the darkness within my own soul. I am drawn to the way you apply your makeup, a skillful artistry that accentuates your alluring features, like a seductive mask hiding secrets beneath. And when your laughter echoes through the night, it's a haunting melody that stirs a deep longing within my heart.”

“But amidst the beauty and passion, there is also a sense of danger. I know that the path I tread is fraught with shadows and uncertainty. Yet, I cannot resist the pull, the magnetic force that draws me closer to the you. In your laughter, I find solace and a fleeting glimpse of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in the depths of my twisted fantasy , there is still a glimmer of hope.”

Thank you for reading!🌸

Don’t forget to check out the shop!🌺

[bullet-prooflove]

Lifeline - Brendon Acres x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

You’re a forger.

An exceptional one.

It’s the reason the FBI leveraged you into working with them in the first place. One slip and you go to prison, that’s the deal.

The agents in Art Crimes, they don’t trust you, they challenge your observations, belittle your insights. They treat you like a secretary, filling in their paperwork, sifting through tips. He hears the distain when they speak to you, like you’re beneath them, worthless.

You’re as polite as you can be, you know that each and every one of them holds your life in their hands. If you snap back, piss one of them off, it’s over and they know it.

Whilst he can’t understand the situation you’re in, he can empathise. He knows what it’s like to have your life controlled by someone else, to have no agency. His entire acting career was based on the dreams of his father, he lived within the confines of that for such a long time before he broke out and tried to forge his own path. He wasn’t living until he joined the FBI.

He sees the restlessness in you, the constant pacing, the tapping of your fingertips on the desk, the monotony, it’s killing you. He knows what happens next, you go back to what you know, the thing that brings you excitement. For him it was drinking, for you it’s forging. He’s found something to fill that gap but you don’t have that luxury.

He can tell you’re close to breaking point. You’ve already started to push the boundaries. When Hendricks scoffs at your suggestion that the painting they’re evaluating isn’t real, you don’t ignore it this time. You spend five minutes aggressively explaining the intricacies of the piece before he tears you a new one in front of the entire floor. The humiliation of it, it’s cruel, even for a man like him. You can’t storm out, tell him to go fuck himself so instead you sit down at your lonely desk in the darkest corner and put your headphones on. You’re a hair’s breadth from hurtling over the edge, he can feel it.

That’s the reason he goes to bat for you with Garza when they take on a museum heist. He thinks the challenge will engage you, ignite that passion again. It’ll get you out of Art Crimes for a couple of days and around some likeminded people. His whole squad is made up of misfits, out of the box thinkers, Garza calls them. A band of broken toys is how they were initially referred to.

It’s a tough sell but with Simone’s help he manages to swing it. He’s not the only one that hates the way you’re being treated, he knows everyone else on this team does too. If you were an agent or a civilian consultant it wouldn’t happen, HR would be involved but you have no power, you’re only there to serve.

Garza runs it up the chain of command before taking it to Henderson, the closed office door barely mutes the shouting when Brendon slides the file onto your desk. The music from your headphones is blaring, something angry, loud. He taps his finger upon the manilla envelop to get your attention and you sigh before plucking the headphones out of your ears.

“You ready to do some real work?” He asks you, flicking the file open to reveal The Museum of Contemporary Art.

“For real?” You ask him, leaning back in your seat. “You’re not messing with me?”

It breaks his heart that that’s your first assumption. It’s a testament to your tenure here at the FBI and he hates that your experience has been so tainted. He tilts his head towards Henderson’s office and the both of you pause for a second listening to you boss completely lose his shit.

“Hear that?” He asks you. “That’s the sound of my boss telling your boss, you’re coming on board with Special Investigations for a while.”

The edges of your mouth tip up and Brendon feels something blossom in his chest. It’s the first time he’s ever seen you smile and honestly…

It’s stunning.

“Thank you.” You murmur, your attention already diverting to the file.

He knows he’s made the right decision. Your interest is piqued, he can tell, it’s in the way your eyebrows furrow in concentration as your fingertips flick through the pages.

“When you finish up with the file, come join us in the conference room. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.” He promises before heading back the way he came.

You watch him go before ripping out a page from your notepad and crumpling it up into a ball, tossing it into the trashcan alongside your desk.

Brendon doesn’t realise that he’s just handed you a lifeline, that you were seconds away from making what would have been the biggest mistake of your life.

You pick up the manilla envelop and slot it under your arm before you rise to your feet and head towards the conference room.

Finally, someone’s taking you seriously.

Love Brendon? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/12/2023

this series not sponsored by murphy's wood oil soap but boy do i wish it was

listening

this song popped up as the first video when i opened accursed tiktok to figure out what the deal was with that german engineer lady digging a storm shelter in her basement. this is the specific recording i want but the second video with a slightly longer intro... u have got to see Abel Selaocoe in motion performing Ka Bohaleng/On The Sharp Side.

i feel like every time i see a video of a cellist they're doing some absolutely bonkers shit and producing sounds i did not know a stringed instrument could make

-

reading

i am constantly chasing the very high highs of raymond chandler's philip marlowe detective noirs. Human Target, a DC extended universe thing by Tom King and Greg Smallwood got real damn fuckin close.

i took thirty-five screenshots while reading these twelve issues. they are such a lush love letter to midcentury advertising. it luxuriates in period-typical stylized coloring in a way i do not see very often. i hope mr smallwood gets sucked silly every night.

one of the reasons for the tuesdayposts is to force myself to look at new things, bc sometimes i find shit i really like. i am remarkably unwilling to consume new things when i am not feeling good, even though new things i like are…not a keystone, but really up there holding together some arch in the viaduct of mental health or whatever.

anyway Christoper Chance is a man with a very specific skillset: perfectly imitating wealthy clients to lure out assassins. he takes a fatal does of poison meant for Lex Luthor and has about twelve days to solve his own murder before he dies. this is an EXTREMELY compelling reason for someone to haul ass through an entire noir novel in less than two weeks.

let's make some comparisons to other spy media i've seen in the last month. christopher reminded me a bit of loid forger from spy x family: same hypercompetent backup plans for backup plans and incredible disguise skills. im sort of...positively? fascinated by him, as opposed to the (also entertaining) train wreck of james bond's psyche slamming up against soft targets for two to two and a half hours. like there is womanizing in Human Target, but it is not the time-filling bond girl eye candy. do not worry, christopher FUCKS.

it is self contained within its twelve issues so i didn't have to read eighteen other crossovers and have encyclopedic knowledge of c- and d-listers from the silver age of comics. it was a very fair mystery. the twists and turns weren’t stupid. i know that’s not a terribly helpful observation but sometimes in a mystery…it takes a fucking stupid turn. most importantly imo it sticks its landing and understands that a noir is a subgenre of tragedy.

how’d i find it: has a pretty cover, stood out from the crowd on hoopla. americans, you probably have access to hoopla through your library!

-

watching

@andmaybegayer referenced the youtube channel About To Eat in a recent mondaypost and i was so enthralled by this man's confident, dulcet, soothing and mustachioed tones. i had forgotten that i could in theory make french onion soup like myself. at home. soup season will not begin here for many months here and even then it's kind of pushing it, but i would like to eat some soup without melting!!!

overall About To Eat's recipes are a bit beyond my skill level and ability to prepare things in one sitting without joint pain but they are a display of competence i find very fun to watch.

-

playing

ive rationed all my picture slots for other slots but i did finally obtain two of the country-specific fishing rods in genshin impact. they were extremely irritating to obtain but i trust you'll understand i'm quite pleased with myself.

-

making

unphotographable things:

reactivating the dried sourdough starter from the horrible woods apartment of 2021, unforch rn it does look like when my cat regurgitates her kibble

sprayed the new couch down with some rather nasty insectide just in casies, it is still degassing in my office with the fan at helicopter speed and the balcony door open and towels shoved under the inside door for another 24h, also made plans to dye a big canvas dropcloth and strategically pin it in place for a cheapo slipcover

coffee table specific unphotographable things:

finally finished cleaning all seven

had to violently strangle the urge to repaint certain inner sections and made peace with touching up the worst of it with an oil-based paint pen bc let's be real nobody is going to look closely at that but me

pried some corrosion off one of the little brass decorative thingies, now it looks bad in a slightly different way

photographable things:

now this is a fun little record cabinet. i haven’t seen many pieces out in the wild that have that sort of vertical bullnose detail. makes me think of thirties waterfall dressers with their molded plywood rounded upper edges.

i can’t decide if the veneer on this piece is starting to really go (it is heavily crackled esp on the sides) or it was once owned by a smoker. the photo below is of the THIRD round of cleaning this front panel after upping the cleaning mix to a HEARTY 2:1 water/soap, and this was not the worst panel on the piece. mostly it really just smells like old wood? i don’t THINK the innards are cedar, bc that would be an odd choice for a record cabinet, but it is an oddly fragrant base wood.

there are some details that make me think it was never a terribly high end piece, or was maybe repurposed into a record cabinet? the veneer is quartered but somewhat indifferently matched, it has very indifferent nailhead finishing, and im not sure if the casters and record slots were later additions. i think the little door catches are original, but they aren’t magnetic yet which starts ruling out some later mcm. i would hazard this was made right before or right after wwii, but realistically it could be early thirties-early sixties. no makers marks :(

i will refinish this eventually. a bit nervous about how the front bullnoses might come out, i don’t really want to fuck around with veneer repair or like. grain painting. that’s for insane ppl and antiques dealers and i am clearly neither

free of ghosts, spider eaten on the house no additional charge with the friends and family discount

[robbyrobinson]

Buddy Daddies (Review)

So here we go. Buddy Daddies is an original series about two professional assassins, Kazuki and Rei, who are given the task of removing a human trafficker, but they did not have the gift of hindsight to realize that the guy they just killed was the father of a young girl named Miri. So, the two roommates now have another mouth to feed for the time being.

When I first heard about this series, it was natural to compare this show to one of the most popular anime series at the time Spy x Family. Y'know, a "fake family" raising a daughter and all? This obviously tossed some allegations the show's way that it was ripping off a well-liked show by opting to follow the leader rather than be something original. Having watched my way into 8 episodes, what do I think?

There are some similarities, but there are several vast differences that the show. For one, both "parents" are assassins so no espionage-related aesthetics. The show also feels more grounded in reality. Obviously, no instances of characters having freakish superhuman strength or any other fantastical aspects that Spy x Family has. The big one is that there is no overarching "mission" the "dads" are in like the Forger family. In fact, their taking in Miri was more because their latest hit aligned itself with Miri going to find her biological father. It was purely happenstance that the two ended up meeting Miri.

Another difference is how the show depicts the young child of the two families. In Spy x Family, Anya tends to be more collected and "stable" largely because of her telepathic abilities giving her a more analytical mindset. Miri, however, is a realistic take on a child who is an unadulterated ball of chaotic energy. In her debut episode, she literally runs through a room while Kazuki and Rei's targets are firing up a storm of bullets. She is completely unaware that she is in danger.

So Kazuki and Rei should probably make it clear that another difference is they are roommates who alternate with being Miri's "Papa" rather than being in a fake marriage as a result of a mission. Kazuki, for instance, is completely straight which is brought up by his frequenting casinos and greeting women, or how his backstory revolves around a lost love of his.

Though despite the show being called Buddy Daddies, it should honestly be renamed to Single Father Raises Two Kids because Rei is more or less a manchild. Rei's interactions with Miri mostly consist of them playing games together, and they both have the same preferences for food like sugar-coated candy. As such, this leads Kazuki to be the one to do most of the housework to his chagrin.

Both express their love for Miri in different ways. While he was initially annoyed with Miri, Kazuki gradually melts into the father role who becomes concerned for Miri if she were to be in trouble or if he would be near clinically depressed if Miri told him she hated him. A lot of this does come from his backstory with his wife/girlfriend which, knowing that, adds a layer of sadness to Kazuki's character.

As for Rei, it is more subtle. They bond over video games as I had mentioned, but Rei would be more reluctant to take on the fathering role. That is until he is put into a situation where Miri needed to get taken to the hospital. Normally, Kazuki would fulfill those needs, but Kazuki is absent leading Rei to rise to the occasion. What is noteworthy about Rei is where he sleeps. Unlike Kazuki and Miri who have their own beds, Rei sleeps in the bathtub. He does this largely, from what I can see, because he found it is one of the few secure areas he could lower his guard. The fact that he ends up sleeping with Kazuki and Miri shows that he is slowly breaking out of that safe space he assigned to himself. Speaking of Rei, snippets of his backstory show that he also did not have a good upbringing. He was raised by an abusive father who only answered to the name "Boss," and was to inherit his assassin business.

With its humorous moments, the show also masterfully depicts more serious moments. Besides Kazuki and Rei's backstories, you get twinges of melancholy throughout the show such as with the truth of why Miri was sent away. On the one hand, you can have fierce hatred for her mother for resenting her daughter and abandoning her, but there is also the side where you can slightly sympathize with her reasons as she was thrust into a position she hated. Miri just so happened to be born into it. Still, resenting a child through no fault of their own is bad.

Besides the main cast, we also get some good supporting characters my favorite being Anna, Miri's daycare teacher. She is just adorable and has a motherly demeanor to her. Kyutaro, Kazuki and Rei's informant, is also a good character who once volunteered to babysit Miri when he started to notice them falling behind on their quotas.

Overall, definitely an enjoyable show with some real laughs and heart. While it may have been inspired by Spy x Family, the show does not define itself strictly on that, and I am tempted to say it actually does a few things better than SxF.

= 9/10

[thenanamisimp]

What I've watched recently (spoiler warning - see bold titles)

Before the tragedy of Jujutsu Kaisen season 2 episode 18 happened I had actually started watching Great Pretender. However, after the loss of a specific someone (Gege when I catch you) and a few days of mourning and crying at tiktok edits and angsty tweets, I couldn't bring myself to keep watching Great Pretender (I will get to it once I feel capable enough to commit to another series in a few days probably). I have instead caught up with some weekly anime that I've been watching this season as well as (finally) started reading MXTX's The scum villain's self saving system. Since I haven't posted in a few days, I wanted to share my opinions on the media that has been keeping me sane since the tragic loss of my favourite character (considering the situation as well as the fact that my average state of sanity is still slightly insane - take this with a grain of salt).

Jujutsu Kaisen (season 2, episode 18) - every Thursday on CrunchyRoll

The production team went above and beyond and I thank them for it. Nanami looked so peaceful in his imagination and I highly appreciate that they extended the couple pages from the manga into 7 minutes of perfection (I'm in so much pain)

Jujutsu kaisen (season 2, episode 19) - every Thursday on CrunchyRoll

Episode 18 felt like a fever dream and so did this one. To keep it short and sweet again (aka I don't wanna cry again), the production team did incredible work once again.

The apothecary diaries (season 1, episodes 1 to 8) - every Saturday on CrunchyRoll

I really wanted something short and more light hearted to watch - hence I finally decided to start this series. In reality I was planning to binge it when it finished airing but I was impatient. The story of an apothecary knowledgeable about poisons and medicine who serves one of the emperor's concubines - with the added bonus of a handsome fool who is in love with her while she doesn't seem to be interested at all! (Jinshi is so madly and hopelessly in love with Maomao it makes me die laughing every time she cringes at his flirting but also I LOVE HIM). THE ANIMATION AND COLOURS of this anime are incredible, there is literally no reason for anyone to not like this show. Absolutely watch this if you have even the slightest hunch you'd enjoy it

Spy x Family (season 2, episode 8) - every Saturday on CrunchyRoll

As a lover of season 1, I've been very excited for season 2. Up until episode 5 of season 2, I couldn't see what the plan with this season was but after the start of the cruise arc (I'm afraid to google the actual name of the arc - spoilers haunt me) my faith has been restored. We're back to exiting ventures with the Forger family, this time more focused on Yor's assassin adventures. Even more so, this episode was extra incredible as we got to see Yor in real action, fighting a storm of other assassins looking to kill the family she has been assigned to guard and looking hot while doing it. Spy x Family is truly an incredible shounen.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions (season 1, episode 9) - every Monday on CrunchyRoll

I started this anime on release day and I started it for Ron. And I stayed for Ron. And mysteries (I do love me a good detective story). Overall, this anime is a good way to take a break from your daily routine by watching a mystery being solved in a comedic way while slowly also unfolding the bigger mystery of why the renowned Kamonohashi Ron stopped sleuthing. This week's episode finally gave us a good hint to his past! Honestly I wish more people were talking about this anime this season, it's so underrated.

And finally! I've been reading The Scum Villain's Self Saving System (Chinese name: Ren Zha Fanpai Zijiu Xitong), Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's first novel series. I've read both Heaven Official's Blessing (Chinese name: Tian Guan Ci Fu) and The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Chinese name: Mo Dao Zu Shi) and every time she impresses me with her writing skills. While I really want to share my opinions on her novels, I would like to make a dedicated post for MXTX's novels once I finish all of them, as I've actually not read most the extras for either TGCF or MDZS and I've not finished reading Svsss. I'm also very (im)patiently waiting for my copies of TGCF volumes 5-8 to get here in the mail in the next few days. I do have to say tho, Svsss has surprised me as I find it to be quite different from MDZS and TGCF, which is valid considering it was her first release.

Thank you for reading this (mostly) anime ramble! Enjoy watching :)

theNanamiSimp

[jckix]

Yor Forger takes a cheeky selfie 📸 Phew! This was a whopper of a drawing for me! The perspective required to create a mirror selfie is no joke. At a certain point you feel less like an artist and more like a puzzle solver. I knew that would be the case going into it, but I really wanted to draw something special for Yor Forger because she took the digital art world by storm last year. Spy x Family is a great series, and I hope it continues to be fun.  As of this post, I reached 200 Followers on Twitter, which is something I’m proud of, so this Yor is sort of a commemoration of that milestone. I don’t have much attention here on Tumblr, which is fine, but it would be nice, heh. I still like blogging my thoughts as I post my work because it’s like a journal of my journey.  If you’re reading this, know that I appreciate you. Forgive me for the plug, but here’s my linktree: https://linktr.ee/jckix  The artist journey continues! 🎨

[liam-and-co-fictional-others]

Female Romantic f/os information

Name: Alcyon Tate

Talent: Ultimate Pilot

Personality: Kind-hearted

Likes: The sky, Her mother, Joyrides, Calm weather, Clear weather, Drones.

Dislikes: Descending very fast, Punctures, Crashes, Storms of any kind

Weakness: Shy, scared of falling.

Age: 21

Fandom: Danganronpa

Family:

Katherine Tate (Mother)

Oc comes from: The Class of 99

Raised by a single mother, she always had to be at her mother’s job where her mother worked at her company where her mother sells blimps. One day where her mother was absent, she always wanted to pilot a blimp for herself, so she decided to borrow one of her mother’s blimps and took a joyride. Her mother was very worried about her daughter and the missing blimp. Good thing she was able to land it very safely. Her mother then suggested for her to go to flight school to become an official pilot so that the same scenario wouldn’t happen again. Alcyon was able to handle different types of aircrafts especially during unexpected emergencies.

Name: Sonia Sims

Codename: Silent Queen

Talent: Ultimate Assassin (False Talent: Ultimate Jewely designer)

Likes: Her clients, Rich people (Sometimes)

Dislikes: Strong people, Mafias, Rich people (Sometimes)

Weakness: Untrustworthy, mostly likely to kill someone if she senses lack of trust

Age: 22

Fandom: Danganronpa

Oc comes from: The Class of 99

She wields dual swords to be able to finish the job of a person. She gets paid per person she kills. Her code word is “Silent Queen, rise once again.” So that she knows the client. She “runs a very small independent Jewelry business.” Her code word is not visible, and people would have to have a candle to reveal the code word on here ‘independent business’ flyer. She is very quiet when entering people’s houses to meet her client or targeting the person that the client wants them to kill. One day, robbers broke into her house when she was living all alone, she got to kill the robbers be slicing their necks and got away with it. She was amazed of her assassination abilities and decided to train in the Secret government organization to help protect her own country from any traitors that would provoke a war. She has superhuman strength to help her with punches and kicks.

(Inspired from Yor Forger from Spy x Family)

Name: Scarlett Sinner

Age: 21

Weakness: Manipulative, 

Fandom where oc belongs: Fandomless

Family:

Alicia ("Younger" twin sister)

Jayden (Older Brother)

Oc comes from: The Sinner Siblings

She is the more mature of the twin sisters, she is more planned, more focused on expensive jewelry, antiques, paintings, and priceless artifacts. She has a gun to protect herself.

[phoenixlionme]

My Favorite Fictional Couples Part 21

NOTE: Be respectful of my choices; the OTPs are not ranked, just of who I thought when making this list.

1. DC Comics: Kara Kent aka Supergirl + Brainiac 5 = Superbrain

2. Spy x Family: Loid Forger + Yor Forger =Twiyor

3. DC Comics: Jon Kent aka Superboy/Superman II + Kathy Branden aka Beacon = Jathy

4. Bob’s Burgers: Bob Belcher + Linda Belcher = Bolinda

5. Bob’s Burgers: Rudy Stieblitz aka Regular-Sized Rudy + Louise Belcher = Roudise

6.  Bob’s Burgers: Zeke + Tina Belcher = Zekina

7.  Bob’s Burgers: Gene Belcher + Courtney Wheeler = Gourtney

8. Jorgeverse’s Maya and the Three: Rico the Rooster Wizard + Chimi the Skull Archer = Rimi

9. Marvel Comics: Jessica Jones + Luke Cage = Jessluke

10.  Marvel Comics: Ororo Munroe aka Storm + James Howlett/Logan aka Wolverine = Stormclaw

[sister-cna-reader]

Fanfics I've written in 2022

This was my first year writing and posting fanfics. I was unsure how I'd do, but I've found such a wonderful community on both Discord and Ao3.

This year was all Spy X Family. I'm hoping next year I'll be able to branch out into other fandoms to write about.

My first fic was "Anya Meets the Watkin's Family"

A sweet one-shot about Anya going to Bill's birthday party.

Next was: Anya's Bad Hair Day

Anya has a bad hair day and Ewen helps her out.

Then I attempted something new, then decided to abandon it...

A Tutor for Anya

Then my personal favorite one shot: What if We Kissed in the Bomb Shelter?

Becky and Bill are alone in one of Eden's bomb shelters during a false alarm. ( I pulled so many others onto the ship with me!)

And over the summer I wrote an 8 chapter crossover based off a tumblr post: Spy X (Addams) Family

I had a great time writing it and got to play with POVs and characters.

After getting caught in a thunderstorm with a broken car, the Forgers are taken in by the creepy and welcoming Addams family.

The Addams knows the Forgers are hiding something, but are more than happy to host them while the storm blows over.

I also took some old fantasy writing and adjusted it for SpyxFamily:

Starlight Across the Sky

Loid misses his daughter, the one he found that day after the Dragon attack. Brought back from the brink of death, his star was his world.

And now My Ongoing fics!

Let's Start a Scandal Currently on Chapter 10

Aged-up Characters

Becky hears of her parent’s plan to marry her off to a foreign man. Furious at the prospect of an arranged marriage, she comes up with the perfect plan- to have a scandal so disastrous, no man would want her. But she can't ruin her reputation without a partner.

Turns out, Bill is back in town and fits all the requirements.

Shell Shocked Currently on Chapter 13

Drabble series (ABO AU)

Due to trauma growing up during the War, Loid and Yor have to start a pack to keep Shell Shock Syndrome from killing them.

As always Mind The Tags Before You Read!