#why are we always stuck and running from the bullets

[practistyles]

we literally never learn we've literally been here before... whatever harry said

[chussyracing]

first race of the season. roman climbs 5/6 places. he retires in pits with 3/4 laps to go. the reason? they didn't screw his tyre on properly and it wasn't safe to continue 😭

[syntheticsymp]

There's a really bad storm happening right now, so have this while I procrastinate on other works.

-

It was pathetic, really.

Hiding under a blanket at your age, scared of thunder as if it could reach through the window and grab you. The storm had been going on for hours now, and there was no end in sight. Laying in bed, blinds tightly pulled, helped, but not enough.

The forty-third strike hit so violently you could see the flash through the window. Not that you had been counting. It was just a storm, really. You would be fine, you could get over it, you should get over it-

Boom

Whatever confidence you had been building crumbled in an instant. Tears sprung to your eyes and you held the blanket tighter.

Why was a single storm your undoing? You weren't normally like this, crying at the slightest thing. You knew you would be fine, that the storm would pass, so why were you still scared?

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you didn't hear the footsteps echoing through your home. The familiar sound of Nikto returning from work, determined to see the only person he could tolerate, the only person he called his own.

He was caught off guard by the lack of your presence. Normally, you'd run up to him and greet him as if it was the last time you'd see him. That had been the routine for as long as he could remember, and he always stuck to such things.

The bedroom was the first place he checked. And sure enough, there you were. The storm hid his loud, unashamed footsteps as he loomed over the foot of your bed, simply listening to your sobs once the noise died down.

You were shaking. Terrified. The blanket covering you didn't hide that fact.

Nikto’s hand instinctively flew to his side, searching for the weapon that KorTac had confiscated before he left for the day. Coming up empty, he decided he could use a kitchen knife to take care of whatever upset you. If only he could figure out who.

Once another bought of thunder hit, your figure only grew more distressed. Nikto’s balled fist relaxed until he completely stilled. It wasn't a person who did this to you at all, was it?

He picked up the blanket with ease, revealing your curled form. The lightning gave few, spliced images of your broken expression. He had to fight the urge to scoff. You were trembling, all scared, just because of some storm.

He was a special operative, one that had survived numerous battles, and he was handling things far better than you. So what if it was a bullet or lightning, it wouldn't matter either way. He had made peace with that long ago.

If you were a soldier, he would have shouted at you. Barked orders, called names until you snapped out of it. Or, he could simply distract you from the rain. Your tears were erotic enough, he could just cockwarm you until you forgot about the storm altogether. But he never was great with distractions.

The only way out was through.

Nikto lay on the bed beside you, blue eyes wide and staring. You stayed curled up, burying your face in your hands. You couldn't so much as look at him. You didn't want him to see you like this.

“Look at us, питомица,” he commanded, his voice low.

There wasn't the choice to say no in his tone. You wiped off your face before doing as he says, trying not to appear as miserable as you felt.

“You are… scared?”

You nodded. Though it was true, the observation hurt.

“You want us to help?”

Again, you nod.

It took a momwnt for the gears to turn in his mind before he came up with an idea. He hoisted you up in a single motion, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “We are going outside.”

“Nik- Nikto!” you yelled his name, kicking your legs out desperately. You didn't want to hurt him, but the pure fear coursing through you couldn't comprehend that. “Let me down! Please, let me go! I can't- I can't go out there. Please!”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears. In his eyes, he was doing what was necessary. He was trying to help. It was unfortunate that he had no grasp on how to properly do so.

The front door swung open, and suddenly, you were outside. Cold, harsh wind hit you immediately. It was unforgiving, throwing sharp, iced rain directly at you. The shirt you had stolen from Nikto offered little protection from the elements. Your face stayed buried against him, unable to face the horror he had so easily walked you in to.

“Nik, please.” You whispered, practically frozen in fear as he slowly stood you infront of him. You didn't let go, not for a second.

He shook his head, his Russian accent acting as a tether that kept you from shutting down completely. “We do not want you to be scared. There is only one way to cure a fear.”

If he said anything more, you couldn't hear it. Not as another strike of lightning hit, followed by the noise you hated.

The thunder drowned out everything around you. Even the ground seemed to turn to ash, intent on swallowing you whole.

Strike after strike hit. The rain eventually soaked through your clothes, your hair, until you were left shivering in his arms. Nikto seemed less upset, his grip tight to keep you from running back inside. All you could do was stand there and bear it. Fear subsided into numbness, until you no longer jumped at every noise and just… stood.

You have no clue how long he held you like that, but eventually, the storm stopped. If it was the day, sunlight would have shone through the clouds and beckoned you into looking up. Instead, there were only stars. Their cold comfort was not unlike the man who had brought you out here.

“Feeling better, are we?” he said, his scars stretching out as he flashed you a playful grin as if he didn't just subject you to one of the most terrifying experiences of your life. He was just as soaked as you, his clothes sticking to every crevice of his body, but he didn't seem bothered.

To be honest, you didn't feel better. But you didn't feel as scared, either. So, you ignored the question entirely. “…What if lightning had hit us?”

Nikto scoffed. “It wouldn't have.” The sincerity in his tone almost made you believe him.

“Can we go back inside now?” You finally took a step back from him, wiping the rain from your skin now that it had finally stopped falling.

He opened the door for you, offering you the entrance he had withheld.

But when you started to walk forward, he stuck out an arm to block you. “We cured your fear. Do we not get something in return?”

Steeling your nerves, you leaned forward to press a small his to his mutilated cheek, trying not to flinch at the feeling of missing flesh. Once you pulled back, you rehearsed the familiar words, “Thank you, Nikto.”

He grabbed you by your chin and pulled your lips to his, hungrily exploring your mouth. His thin lips parted as his tongue swirled against yours, taking what he believed was his without so much as a second thought.

When he finally pulled away, he did so with just as much warning as when he kissed you. “Let us clean you up, then we can sleep. You've had a long night, питомица.”

[straightmundodiaz]

we never learn, we've been here before why are we always stuck and running from the bullets, the bullets?

[mihii-i]

If I was born again.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, reader’s fvcking dead, angst obviously there’s not enough angst and yeah I’m thirsty for mizu too but can we get some sad stuff cause I feel like some ppl ignore her character just cause she’s hot, wlw, depressed mizu, I mean she’s already depressed but it’s worse here, shame on u for dying reader, actually I came up with this myself why am I shaming the reader, spoilers for episode 8, the ending of the episode takes a different turn so no london, violence, blood, ptsd, mizu my love i feel bad for writing this now I don’t want her to be any worseee, ill post an apology later, not proofread.

A/N: wanted to do my own request that I came up with in the shower this time, and I saw a mizu x reader but in another life and I thought that the reincarnation concept was so cute so I wanted to write about it. But not before I make everyone sad u will be posting an apology later tho.🕯️

Slivers of faint light peeked through the heap of clouds masking the warm tinted sunset, illuminating the thick blankets of snow along the ground a soft pink. Mizu remained knelt outside the rugged wood walling of Master Eiji’s forge, her lips remaining sealed together as she blankly remained in the chilling ambience.

1658. Or was it 1660 already? She couldn’t keep track of the years anymore, the wash of helplessness nearly shutting her mind down altogether ever since the incident stripping you away from her. Everything was a blur throbbing in the back of her head as she stared off without aim, eyes heavy lidded as they bore into the gleaming distance shrouded by a blinding brightness of the sun’s rays. A low sigh pushed past her lips in a slow stream of air, fogging up before her in a cloud of her breath visible from the cold.

The silence was only broken by the howls of chilling wind assaulting the tense atmosphere, ripping through the gold of the horizon in quick rushes. Has it been one year? Or two? Mizu felt awful for being unable to count it. She didn’t want your spirit to presume the notion of your death being nothing of importance. Rather, the sight of your lifeless corpse only spirlaled her into a sensation worse than being cut open, one that drove her into a deep hole of hatred and despair.

Mizu felt every drop of blood in her body tensing in anguish at the memory alone, her throat running dry from the horrible memory. Everything in hindsight seemed unintelligible to her, frequenting the habit of forgetting the most basic of things on occasions as her mind was constantly astray. You were fine moments before—everything was fine before the sight of Edo charred to the ground, erupted in flames that engulfed the city in its scorching heat.

Worst of all, the sight of your lifeless body limp against the floorboards, damp in a pool of crimson as Fowler held the opening of his rifle pressed against the bullet buried into your chest. It remained ingrained in her skull like a tormenting disease, eating away at the remaining sanity of her soul, searing along the ends of her temples as the image stuck with her. It was all her fault wasn’t it? Perhaps if she wasn’t a monster, things could’ve been different.

She could’ve saved you.

It was all her fault.

Mizu couldn’t help but suffer at the cusp of her regret’s palms, the thought that her wrathful desire to seek revenge had finally bestowed its consequences upon her, by ripping away the woman she had loved most right out of her grasp. Her hands always seemed to jitter occasionally after your death, thumb idly tracing the fabric of her clothing, or any object in her grasp in the same delicate gesture she’d caress your face.

The cold sting continued to bat against her bare cheek as Mizu remained knelt, legs tucked behind her as she sank in the heaping snow below her. Eyes fluttering shut, her knee bumped against the rim of her kasa for a brief moment, a momentary disturbance she paid no mind to. Mizu squeezed her eyes shut, brows knitting together with the tension creasing along her face as her hands remained planted on her lap firmly. Almost as if she sought to hide her eyes from the view of this cruel world, masking the part of her that lapped at her as the source of her hatred, and ultimately the goal behind those devilish eyes driving you to your death. 

An eerie creak, followed by the soft crunch of something digging into the crystalline snow sharply caught Mizu’s attention, raising an eyebrow in her disassociated state as she kept herself dug into the snow, unmoving. Eiji’s familiar voice rang within the flushed shell of her ear, his hoarse tone beholding a tinge of sympathy for the child he took in at a point.

“How long has it been since she passed?”

Mizu shrugged, blinking her eyes open to stare down at her hands. The gleaming cerulean was drained of even a slight glint of emotion but sorrow, her eyes practically dead in a wavering blue gradient.

“She’d hate me for even forgetting that. It was my fault. If I hadn’t-“

“Blaming yourself will not bring (Name) back, nor will it alleviate the pain of not having her with us.”

She only shook her head, tips of her fingers curling around the snow until the numbness spread through her hands as she breathed out a bitter scoff.

“(Name) didn’t even have to come with me to Edo, but she wanted to make sure I was safe. Because she was involved with me the consequences of my revenge caught up and Fowler fucking shot her. I couldn’t even protect her how is it not my fault?”

Eiji shook his head in response. Despite his lack of sight leaving him running his hand along objects and relying upon his hearing, he could sense the raw hatred scorching within Mizu. Yet it wasn’t toward anyone in particular. Not towards her targets like it usually was, but rather toward herself.

Mizu’s teeth grit together once more, recalling one painful memory after the other.

“She was covered in ash and burns when I retrieved her body. I couldn’t even bury her clean.” She thought back, a faint quiver racking her already shaky voice as if she was trying not to cry on the spot.

“Perhaps you’ll see her again in the next life. Rather than sulking, go pay respect to her and live on as she’d wish for you.”

With that reply, Eiji simply turned his back to Mizu, creaking the door open once more before shutting it behind him. Left alone with her thoughts in the cold, Mizu eyed the sun setting behind the distant horizon, taking note of the fact that it was getting quite late from the darkening sky in an enchanting scatter of purple—along with a star or two glowing in the distance.

You had been buried in the soil before Eiji’s forge when Mizu returned with your corpse hugged in her arms, held firmly against her chest with a deathly grip. She simply couldn’t risk your body being found by anybody else, atleast hoping to grant your physical form peace after death as a sort of compensation from the gnawing guilt of being unable to protect you in your final moments. In short, Mizu couldn’t bear the thought of even your body being in the presence of someone else. You would always be under her watch, even if you were no longer there.

Even if she could no longer hear your sweet laugh, your kindness in how you treated her, your warmth when you held her close to yourself..

Mizu shook off those thoughts hesitantly as she lowered her head, a pained expression flashing across her face. Pulling her quivering lower lip between the pressured bite of her teeth, attempting to hold back the tears threatening to prick at the corner of her eyes once more, she rose to her feet weakly as her feet dragged along the bundles of snow crowding her body. Even moons after you passed, she should’ve gotten used to this. But she just couldn’t.

Dragging herself lazily along the back of Eiji’s forge, her steps lacking the usual will to move forward reflected the weakness blistered within Mizu’s shattered heart. She could barely bring herself to even perform simple tasks in these recent years, often forcing herself to function normally for the sake of being alive.

Yet she always wondered the question what for? Certainly not for you, as you were deceased. Perhaps to crave the warmth of yours she missed? Pretend you were alive? She didn’t know anymore. Maybe she was just living for the hell of it, going through the motions like a mindless soldier working their ass off day and night.

…

Mizu stood at the foot of your grave, her eyes beholding a somber hint dimmed within as her gaze tiredly traced the kanji scratched onto the stone upright where you had been buried. Her expression seemed to soften at the sentiment of being with you in a way which your soul resided rather than your physical form. As excruciating as it felt for her to not have you by her side knowing you were dead, it was oddly poetic in a way.

Swallowing back the sob crawling up her throat, Mizu knelt before the stone coated in a thick white layer of crystals, carefully extending her arm to run her fingertips along the dusty rock whilst feeling the bumps of the carvings engraved into your tomb. Your voice echoed within her ear in an unending melody, plunging her into the more pleasant memories of you two, like an eternity of sunshine overtaken by an abrupt storm.

She breathed out a contented hum, still trying to control the maelstrom of emotions raging within her threatening to spill out at any given moment. There was only a small flower beginning to wilt beside the corner of your grave, along with a burnt out incense stick buried deep into the snow. Mizu took a mental note to replenish the items near your grave, along with potentially brewing you some tea to share. Perhaps you’d still want to drink with her in the afterlife?

However, Mizu couldn’t help but dwell upon the swordfather’s words that he spoke regarding the next time she’d be with you again. The confines of her mind could only ponder the scenario so far, yet a shred of hope continued to race within her as she smiled to herself at the thought.

Truly being together in another life in the future…maybe you could actually be happy with her.

Maybe she could take care of you. Perhaps even a family if the two of you wanted.

Just maybe in another life, she could protect you. Unlike how she failed in this one, she swears to protect you in the next.

Glancing around, she rasped out a quiet string of words after making sure nobody was around her. Words that she would only say to you even as she spoke to a discolored, lifeless corpse buried deep into the earth. But despite being dead, she knew you would hear them.

“You’re probably sick of me saying sorry for failing to protect you. But if we end up together in another life…I promise I’ll love you forever, (Name). I’ll protect you and cherish you like I couldn’t in this life.”

Her now downturned eyes raked along the sight of your grave, tracing the writing on it once more as her irises fixated on each character carved into the stone. Another soft whisper left her lips, quieter than the last one as a vague shake ingrained itself in her voice.

“I love you, (Name).”

—

Crackles of burning flames cried in the distance in angry orange sparks emanating from the waves of fire tearing down building after building, hovering dangerously close to your wounded body as trickles of blood seeped from the spot where the bullet was dug into your chest. You only caught Mizu’s worried form in the corner of your blurred vision as her palm rested along your crimson soaked chest, the warm blood only streaking along her hand as she attempted to ease your strained coughs.

“Stay with me, I- I’ll find Fowler soon and avenge you, just-“

A loud clank bruising against the back of her neck cut her words short, the broad Irish man towering over your twitching body as Mizu dragged her fingers against the bruised skin of her nape where Fowler had struck her with the stock of his rifle. His tall figure loomed over you as you lay helpless, soaked in your own blood spilled from where he had already fired a bullet into you.

All you could do was lay weakly in the pool of warm blood sticking to your clothes, the tint of red spreading up the fabric of your attire as that murderous emerald stare wrenched into your mind in a surge of fear. You desperately took in rapid, shallow breaths of air in an apprehensive, panicked state as Fowler drew closer to you, hyperventilating as the head of the rifle angled itself directly toward your chest once more.

Instead of firing another bullet to clash against the one already embedded into your flesh, he harshly jabbed the muzzle against your wound, earning a piercing yell from you at the excruciating pain.

Your agonizing screams twisted like a spear cranking deeper into Mizu’s chest, filling her with an aching wave of helplessness as her own wounds limited her to only being able to crawl toward you against her stomach slowly. The grotesque sight of Fowler taking pleasure in spilling more of your blood stung at her, mind nearly breaking in half as she drained her lungs dry with calls of your name in her incapacitated state.

Clawing her way against the floorboards, her fingers dug into the crevices of each plank of wood as leverage to hoist herself forward in your direction, reaching out. The sudden drive of adrenaline coursing through every vein in her body, dipping itself in her blood as it overtook her with nothing but desperation and anger was able to propel her forward, causing her to stagger to her wobbly feet as Fowler continued to torment you with that wicked grin.

Abruptly, the air fogged heavily with a tense atmosphere lingering in the area as the screams came to a sudden halt. Only the indistinct drip of damp flesh dragging against fresh blood bounced off the burning walls, ceasing as Fowler withdrew his rifle from your chest.

Once Mizu finally looked up, her heart nearly stopped in disbelief, dropping to the pits of her stomach as she felt her skin run cold, goosebumps blooming along it in contrast to the flames around her. Met with the sight of your lifeless body, still against the ground as your eyes lost any light that presided in them, while spread out against the ground unmoving.

…

“I’m sorry.”

…

…

…

————

“Hey, wake up.”

You groggily blinked open your eyes at the abrupt voice startling you awake, lashes sticking your eyes together as you struggled to wake back up. Back pressed to the bench, you took in the bright sights of the crowd moving forth in the complex, not paying any mind to your phone buzzing in your pocket and vibrating against your skin. Letting out a deep yawn, you pressed a hand to your eyelid, rubbing yourself awake in confusion.

Huh. You could’ve sworn you just had a strange dream, yet you couldn’t remember much from it—if anything at all in fact. It was hard to even piece together the blur of whether it was a happy or unpleasant dream. It felt like a mix of both, to be frank. Remembering the voice that woke you up, you swiftly darted your head in both directions, finding a stranger staring at you in confusion against your right shoulder.

Something about her seemed oddly familiar. You’re sure you’ve never met this person before, yet that dark hair let down as the front was neatly combed to the side…maybe her lowered expression accentuated by her thick eyebrows? Maybe those gorgeous blue eyes must have caught your attention, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

The stranger looked equally as bewildered as you, her mouth slightly parted as she stared intently with the same expression, as if she’d seen you before as well. You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward tension fostered between the two of you as you spoke.

“Ah. Sorry. Did you wake me up?”

She nodded bashfully, attempting to turn her fixated gaze away from you, but failing.

“Yeah. You were kind of leaning on my shoulder, and I wanted to walk around a bit.”

“Was I-? Shit, sorry that’s embarrassing-“

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s not everyday you have a stranger sleeping on your shoulder.” She responded with a small laugh, flicking her pointer finger along the orange tinted glasses folded and tucked in the front hem of her shirt.

Still sensing you were embarrassed, she nudged your shoulder, offering you up as she rose to her feet.

“Come walk with me. It would be nice to have some company that I didn’t wanna depart with just yet.”

She urges you, to which you nod, moving side by side to catch up with her as you strolled around campus.

Right. You were currently in your college campus. How the hell did you even forget where you were?

“I never caught your name?”

“Mizu.” She replied firmly, following up almost in an instant. “Yours?”

“(Name).”

She nodded, eyes transfixed on you for a heartbeat as if she recalled your name somewhere.

Strangely enough, you felt at ease by this woman’s side, a peculiar twinge of comfort breathing like an aromatic oil diffused within you. Midway, you caught sight of a small stand constructed by a student paired with a line of others with cash bunched up in a fist, a thick stack of vermillion-orange covered books piled up as the student slid them towards others in exchange for cash.

Mizu clicked her tongue observantly, catching sight of the banner displayed. “Oh. They’re selling a book about Edo Japan. The Great Fire of 1657 specifically.” She blurted out, catching your attention to spin in her direction as she walked. You let out a small breath of laughter, spilling out that bizarre feeling building in you in the form of a joke.

“For some weird reason whenever someone mentions the great fire in Edo I get a weird sense of déjà vu.” You chuckle, hoping to not seem too weird in her eyes.

“Same here.”

…well that certainly caught your attention.

“Are- you being serious? Cause I was.”

She only nods, smiling faintly as you huffed in surprise. The two of you continued walking along the pavement in comfortable silence, the smile remaining on your face as you treaded along the stone shoulder to shoulder with Mizu, along with drags of your shoes against the ground grating in a satisfying noise. After a few eternities of silence, your voice cut through the quiet air.

“You know. I get reminded of this one poem when I think about it.”

“Enlighten me.”

“If I was born again, by Tsurayuki.”

“…I’ll have to check it out. Probably can’t find it online considering how old it may be.” She replies, amused. You found yourself once again growing attached to her upon hearing her charming laugh, taking in every aspect of her with that clouding sense of familiarity.

Maybe you have met this stranger before. In another life perhaps?

Whatever it is, you’ll probably find out what that random wave of affection is soon enough. Maybe it could be some supernatural stuff like the poem?

You recalled the poem’s lines within your head, putting the remaining energy you had left on your spent brain to remember the words strung out.

If I was born again,

I would have loved you longer.

If you’re reborn, wait for me.

Subconsciously reaching over, you took Mizu’s hand in your grasp, not uttering a word in hopes she wouldn’t pull away. Once more, it was an odd feeling. It felt almost natural to hold her hand like this, her skin soft, yet slight callouses defined along her palm ringing that puzzling familiarity again.

Her hand pressed into your touch further, lacing her fingers between yours casually in response.

Perhaps that feeling stems from something you may have shared with her in the past.

A/N: last fic before I go back to school now no more fics for a while because of fucking midterms anyway sorry for making yall cry im feeling evil (I sobbed like a baby making this ngl)

I TOOK SO LONG ITS 12 IN THE MORNING AND I HAVE SCHOOL WHAT also this was so hard to write towards the end so it got lazy because i couldn’t find a GOOD FUCKNG POEM ABOUT REINCARNATION we needed more mizu angst btw it’s necessary

Anyway goodnight me and Mizu are getting married after my midterm exams bring a fruit basket and flowers everyone 🕯️

[banj0possum]

Can we get a zombie horde with a gn! Reader where their abusive family finds them again?

after years of inactivity im fucking back ! sorry for the long long wait but at least im able to put out a few more fics !

Zombie Horde!Reader's Abusive Family Finds Them Again

CW: verbal abuse, abusive family, (mentioned) being rejected food

💀 You haven't always been alone in your travels, in fact, you were with your family when the outbreak happened. But to be fair, you never liked your family..

💀 They would always bully you, boss you around, even put the blame on you whenever something bad happened, the torment didn't end even when there were zombies banging on your doors!

💀 In fact, because of the virus, they got even more cruel to you.

💀 They would take away your food rations for any small mistake you did, make you take the night watch for days on end, even send you out to get supplies just because 'you talked back that one time'!

💀 You couldn't take it anymore and left, knowing anywhere would be better than being stuck in a house of people who did nothing but torture you.

💀 You thought you were safe from them, cuddled up with Ribs in your bed as the others wandered around the abandoned mall, but it all came back when you heard a familiar voice shout out your name from the distance..

💀 "(Y/N)?! I know you're here you runt!"

💀 It was your dad...

💀 Ribs sat up as soon as he heard it and snarled, crawling out of bed and going out to see the commotion.

💀 Your heart raced as you followed him, but it was hard to walk with your body trembling at the thought of seeing him or any of your family again.

💀 "Jesus there's four of them!" "What are you waiting for you stupid bitch?! Shoot em!"

💀 It seems your mom was also there..

💀 You run the broken escalator and see the horde fighting with your family, gunshots ring throughout the mall as you see your beloveds blasted with bullets.

💀 You weren't scared though, they were dead after all, but it was still heartbreaking seeing them get hurt.

💀 You pick up a nearby rock and throw it at your dad to get his attention away from the boys. They all look at you, your family glaring at you while the horde coos at your presence.

💀 "(Y/N) you come here right this fucking second we're coming home!" Your mother shouts at you, walking over angrily and grabbing your arm strong enough to leave a red ring.

💀 Bo fumes and pulls her of you "You stay away from my mate ya hear me?!" he growls.

💀 "It talks?!" She yelps as your dad comes over as well. "Mate? Don't tell me you're hangin out with these monsters! Are you that much of a dumbass?!" he scolds you.

💀 You shrink, knowing whatever you say will make things worse..

💀 "Why you little whore.." Your dad growls, about to slap you, but Screw runs over and pushes your dad away, sending him back a few feet.

💀 Ribs and Soda smile and clap as Bo and Screw help you up.

💀 "You ok darlin?" Bo asks you in a sweet tone. "Is your arm ok? Does is hurt? Do you need a bandaid? I have a pink one with a cat on it.." Screw looks at the mark your mother gave you.

💀 You smile and assure them everything's ok.

💀 "Fucking freaks..(Y/N) do you hear me?! Get your ass up and let's go!" Your dad yells at you again as he stand up.

💀 "They're not going anywhere mean guy!" Ribs growls at him.

💀 Your mom is to the side next to Soda, she sneers at him and he looks back at her, giving her the middle finger, making her scoff and look away.

💀 In a shaky tone, you ask how they found you. You've cut off contact with them for months, there was no way they could find you..

💀 "Hah! Your dumbass thought you were just some person in the middle of nowhere? Half the state knows about your little talkin freak boyfriends!"

💀 You look down in shame as Bo and Screw comfort you "I think it's about time you folks leave..." Bo says, glaring at your parents.

💀 "Oh no you're not kicking us out! We came all this way to get this ungrateful little leech back! We gave them shelter and this is how they repay us?! You should've learned your place and stayed put!" he berates you. You finally snap and yell back at him, telling him all the things you've endured in their household, how you were treated like dirt every day, how you were much better off without them.

💀 Finally you firmly tell them to leave, pointing to the exit as you look at him with no fear left in your eyes. He scoffs "Fine..go get killed on your own then! Don't come to us for any fucking help!" he yells as he leaves, your mom in tow.

💀 Ribs laughs at them as they leave while Soda smiles at you.

💀 After the whole interaction, you were completely exhausted, the boys huddling up with you to calm you down.

💀 You give them all well-deserved kisses for protecting you, they all coo and chirp at the affection and kiss you back.

💀 "Do you still want that bandaid?" Screw asks you softly.

💀 You say yes.

this one was pretty short but expect more fics to be sent soon ! love you guys and remember that youre awesome and amazing !

[swaps55]

Twin Souls of the Same Star

Funny, Kaidan thinks as they lie side by side, Shepard’s bare skin illuminated by the fishtank. They’d changed their lives just a few hours ago, assuming Joker actually filled out and filed the paperwork to the hanar and Alliance’s satisfaction.

And yet…everything feels exactly the same.

Shepard strokes Kaidan’s ring figure, then pinches it at the knuckle and examines it closely. “Guess I need to put a ring on this, lest anyone doubt that you are now bound to me by official legal documents. Er, at least as far as hanar law goes. Do we know how binding that little ceremony actually was?”

“Are you questioning the legitimacy of Joker’s ordination within the Enkindler Souls of Stars?” Kaidan asks, tugging his ankle free of the twisted sheet and draping it over Shepard’s leg. “Or are you asking about the return policy?”

Shepard kisses Kaidan’s knuckle and then tugs him until he straddles Shepard’s hips.

“Just try and renege and see what happens to you.”

Kaidan hides his flush behind a chuckle. Shepard pulls him in and traces the shell of Kaidan’s ear with his lips. Bastard. Not even fair to go straight for the ear.

“You’re stuck with me. I just want the entire galaxy to know.” 

No hiding the flush now. “Well, in that case. Don’t need a ring. I know your transponder code. Your baseline biometrics. Your service number. Your mnemonics.”

“Okay, so you know how to take me in a fight, sure.”

Kaidan trails his fingers lightly across Shepard’s belly, smiling in satisfaction when he yelps and nearly shoots out from underneath him.

“I know that.”

Shepard gives him a wary look. “Tickling is just a dirtier kind of warfare than bullets, in my book.”

Kaidan wiggles his fingers in tune with his eyebrows, but pins Shepard firmly in place when he attempts to flee.

“Point is,” Kaidans says between sloppy kisses against Shepard’s neck. “I’m pretty sure I can stake a pretty convincing claim to you without a trinket as proof.”

“Don’t know why I’m worrying. Pretty sure you’re the only one who would put up with me, anyway.”

Kaidan trails kisses down the line of Shepard’s shoulder. “Dunno. Have you seen how pretty you are?”

Shepard preens. “Maybe. But Liara says I’m very vexing.”

“Lucky for you, I like vexing.”

“See? Soulmates. The hanar say so. Joker’s head garment thingy looked very official.”

“If you’re really worried about it we could always hire a hanar to follow us around and tell people.”

Shepard sniggers into Kaidan’s shoulder, then adopts a solemn tone. “This one would like you to know that these two are bound soul stars in the eyes of the Enkindlers.” His eyes widen. “Oh god we cannot tell Javik.”

Kaidan barks a laugh, and Shepard grins.

“Well, we don’t have a hanar on board,” Shepard goes on. “Suppose we could just stick some tentacles on Garrus. No one will know.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“He’ll think it’s funny.”

He probably would.

Kaidan rests his head on Shepard’s chest, sighing softly as Shepard runs fingers through his hair.

“Should I have taken your name or something?” Shepard asks eventually.

Kaidan’s heart does a somersault at the thought. Not something he’s ever thought about. Not something he’s ever even cared about. But the fact Shepard has…

He swallows. Shepard continues stroking his hair and just…lets him feel it for a minute.

“You married me,” Kaidan says after a moment.

“Yeah, I remember. I was there.”

“Other people saw it.”

“Pretty sure they remember, too. Joker’s hanar impression was very memorable.”

“Wow.”

Shepard chuckles. The sound rattles under his sternum, and Kaidan lets the feel of it wash through him. “So? Should I be Sam Alenko?”

Kaidan huffs. “Well, you hate being called Sam.”

Shepard ponders that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it would be kind of weird if people started calling me Alenko, huh?”

“Yeah, that would be pretty weird. Thought’s pretty romantic, though.”

“I am so full of romantic gestures. Just you wait.”

“Mmmm,” Kaidan says with what he’s sure is a stupid grin. “I could take yours, I guess.”

Shepard makes a face. “Can you imagine you and me in the same room as my mother? No one will have any idea what the fuck to call us.”

“Okay,” Kaidan says with a laugh. “No name changes.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“Definitely.”

They drift off for a few minutes. Shepard’s hand stills, the weight of it on Kaidan’s head warm and comforting. Maybe Kaidan falls asleep. He’s not sure.

“Did you know we get tax benefits for being married?” Shepard asks, startling him awake.

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “Did you read a manual or something?”

“Well, I can’t suck at this.”

Kaidan stifles a laugh against Shepard’s chest. “You know, Williams even told me once we should get married for the tax breaks.”

“Did she? Do you think she knew?”

“Of course she did.” Kaidan hoists himself up on an elbow to look him in the eye. “Everyone did. Except you. You thought I was into Williams.”

Shepard flashes him a guilty look. “She made you laugh all the time.”

“She was funny!”

“Yeah, but she was funnier than me and I didn’t like it.”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “And that didn’t…raise any flags for you.”

The guilty look gets guiltier. “Does it make it any better if I say that when people mistook us for a married couple I’d think to myself, ‘there are a lot worse things than spending the rest of my life with him?’”

“Really? Really?” Kaidan gooses him again, this time with a lot less mercy. Shepard yells indignantly and twists beneath him. They tussle until Shepard manages to trap Kaidan’s back against his chest.

“In my defense.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Hang on, I’m thinking.”

Kaidan laughs. “You realize that this exact line of thinking is what got us in trouble in Vancouver.”

 “Hey, I remember kissing you in the rain in Vancouver, so I think my line of thinking is pretty great, actually.” 

“Yeah,” Kaidan says softly, gripping his hand. “This is pretty great.”

Shepard rests a chin on Kaidan’s shoulder. “You were pretty pissed at me over the Williams thing. I thought I’d really fucked up.”

Kaidan strokes his arm. The memory of Williams still sits like a bruise, but it’s less tender to the touch than it used to be. “Think I was more angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“For being so in love with you and so unable to do anything with it. About it. I don’t know. You were never going to feel the same way and I just…couldn’t even try to get over the way I felt about you.”

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one who was dense,” Shepard murmurs in his ear. “Turns out I was, in fact, very, very into you the whole time.”

Kaidan smiles into the dim room.

“You know I reached out to Beaudoin after that to get his advice?” Shepard asks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d really fucked up, but I didn’t know why and Beaudoin, you know. Knew how to people a lot better than I do.”

“So you thought you’d fucked up your relationship with me, went to the only person we know with any reasonable insights on dating and romance, for advice, and that still didn’t trigger anything for you?”

“No.”

“You have saved the galaxy twice.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Kaidan snorts. “What did he say?”

“His message was one line and it was zero help. It said, ‘You’ll figure it out, I’ve got money on it.’ I had no fucking idea what he was talking about.”

Kaidan laughs softly into the pillow. “He and Aslany had a bet about us.”

“Wait….he knew too? Aslany knew?”

“Told you. Everyone.”

“Motherfucker.”

Kaidan tugs Shepard’s arm tighter around him, thinking of simpler days and places and times you can’t go back to. “Wish Beaudoin could have been here today.”

Shepard kisses the back of his neck. “Me too. Can you even imagine what he would have said about Joker’s ‘vestment?’”

“He would have loved us getting married by a human ordained through the hanar. And yeah, he would have fucking loved that vestment.”

“He really would have.” 

They lapse back into silence. It feels heavier this time.

Williams. Beaudoin. The Normandy. The ‘Yang. And there’s more to come. Kaidan feels it in his bones.

“We have a lot of history, don’t we?” Kaidan murmurs.

“Yeah, we do,” Shepard agrees. He wraps Kaidan up tight. “I want more. Think we made some today.”

“This one now pronounces you twin souls of the same star,” Kaidan intones.

“I like that part,” Shepard says, nuzzling his neck. “Even better than the vestments.”

Shepard has always shone brighter than any star, but Kaidan has always walked willingly and unflinchingly into that light. There’s never been another path. At least not that he wanted to take.

“Kiss me,” Kaidan says, the sudden need for it overwhelming.

Shepard rolls him over and obliges. It feels no different than it did a few hours ago: beautiful. It always has, with Shepard.

The kiss gets deeper. Shepard’s corona kindles, bright and flickering, a fire without heat that graces Kaidan’s nerves with a soft, sweet hum. Kaidan reaches into the gravity well and lights his own star, their auras blending together into one, solid glow.

We’ve always been this, Kaidan thinks as he falls headlong into Shepard’s embrace.

Now they just have the documents to prove it.

[seat-safety-switch]

Sometimes, when I'm feeling flush, I like to go to this little restaurant near me. It's a sushi joint, and in my part of the world that always has to come with some additional kitsch. For this restaurant, it's "bullet train sushi." You order on a little iPad, and then a train comes out of the kitchen, bringing your sushi behind it. Clean. Efficient. Antithetical to my morals and values.

See, I'm from North America. In case you're unfamiliar, it's very popular these days. You can find it on the north end of America on any map, except for that weird one that is about Pangaea. One thing we love in North America is cars. We spend a couple of hours stuck in one so we can go to an office we hate, then spend a couple of hours going home so we can spend a few more hours taking our kids to a soccer game. If we had a train, then we'd be able to do things like check our text messages without running over a pedestrian.

Being presented with this totally viable transportation alternative, albeit in miniature and towing little pieces of raw fish behind it, troubles the mind. If we had made better choices, put monopolists to the torch, could we have a utopian society where you order things on a little iPad and then gleamingly efficient tubes fly you out of the kitchen and into a glorious new world? I love the food, but I hate the frantic cold sweats it gives me as I ponder an alternative civilization that doesn't care quite so much about heated steering wheels. That's why I had to do something.

Welcome to Switch's Highway of Sushi – the only sushi restaurant in town that's sponsored by General Motors Corporation. Here, each table is actually a fully-equipped Chevrolet Blazer. Diners are commanded to get their own goddamn food the way our forefathers once did: in four-wheel-drive. The eight-storey parking garage in which the restaurant is housed features many stalls, containing highly trained chefs making delicious food that's just a complex parking job in tight confines away.

Sure, it makes the restaurant fairly space-inefficient having to make room for sixty 6000-pound SUVs. Our insurance is through the fucking roof because our customers keep backing over the waiters and their own families (why not look at the award-winning ClearView Surround Backup Camera, idiots?) And the air quality inside the place could be defined as "not great," even with the really expensive oven vent hoods you get at the restaurant supply store.

All this doesn't matter. Freedom is what matters. The freedom to not have to occupy the same space as any other member of your civilization, unless you are currently backing over them because you forgot to check the backup camera again. Come on, table four. If you're going to keep this up all night, we might think about giving you some demerits.

[hybridhideoutstory]

CHAPTER 3

The first place Payton was that morning was in the hideout kitchen with Pattie at 6:30 sharp. The two of them were starting their punishment of the day after attempting to eliminate each other off the Hideout’s registry. Today the two of them were washing every dish left behind by the hybrids during breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. This was all basically 6:30am to 10:00pm, the only difference over the course of the day was what they had to clean off the plates. 

Payton had to wear a heavy and thick bonnet as to not get their purple paint hair wet, even if their horns poked out of it uncomfortably. They also had bright yellow rubber gloves that went up to their forearms. They wore a dirty apron that went down to their knees and the thickest clothes the hideout had in their supplies. They were sweating bullets, but instead of just looking shiny and smelling like rotten fish they started to look like a splash of rainbow colors and reeked of expo markers. Apparently their sweat had to be watercolor paint, of course it was. All Pattie had to wear was gloves, a hair net, and an apron over her normal clothes. Safe to say she didn’t understand Payton’s complaints about the heat. 

Their body was still aching from fight yesterday. They felt like they were going to fall over from the heat and the pain combined. 

Sometime in late evening one of the workers returned home early so Pattie and Payton were asked to run one of the cashier positions. It wasn’t much of a cashier as in collecting money, it was more like just take the order and tell the cooks. Pattie basically forced Payton to run it because according to her she couldn’t “do math” even if math wasn’t involved. That was fine by Payton, at least they weren’t at risk of death by wet. About ten minutes before they could go back to their room that evening a kid walked up to the counter and placed his arm smugly over the table like he owned the place.

“Good evening juvenile hybrid” 

“Wow… good to meet you too what the hell is your order…” 

The kid looked like an adolescent anthropomorphic Dumbo. He had the same ears of an elephant and teeth that stuck out of his mouth like tusks. He wore a red T-shirt and cargo shorts with so many pockets that Payton envied him. 

“I don’t want anything to eat really, just want you to know that this is what happens when ladies like you try to act like boys.”

“… what…”

“I mean, they put you two on dishwashing duties today for a reason! 

Payton stood there in a stunned silence for a moment “Um… sir, I’m not a woman 

“Oh so your one of those girls.” 

“What?”

“One of those girls who think they aren’t a girl, well that’s not what biology says. You girls gotta learn that your gender depends on what’s in your pants, not just something you can change Willy nilly for attention. Enjoy washing those dishes because I assume this punishment is going to happen again if you don’t fix your act. Good day young lady!” And just like that he walked away. 

“Who was that punk?” Pattie shouted from the back. 

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been here for like two days.” 

“I bet it was that Lucas kid” she said with a small amount of cheer

“Who?” 

“Lucas! Him and his sister are always tryna start fights in this place. They’re discourse hybrids.”

“Discourse hybrids? Wait wait so do the make people fight each other?” 

“Better, they make groups a people fight. They basically cause civil war. Which is awesome because it means more pain!” 

“Oh so you just like when people are in pain?” 

“Well yeah! I’m the pain hybrid! It’s all I do!” Pattie proclaimed with pride. 

“Well isn’t it lovely that we know each other” Payton said sarcastically. 

That night as Payton was sitting in bed they kept thinking about that Lucas kid and his apparent sister. What really bothered them was what Lucas said to them. His logic wasn’t much different than their parents, which was probably why it had really gotten under their skin. Whatever biology textbook he read certainly didn’t matter anymore, no one in the hideout was even fully human, that’s why they were there anyway! At least their gender, according to his logic, was “yellow paint” and not “girl”. That made them feel a little better. 

The next day was finally a day were they could do what they want, free of tours and chores. They took the elevator to areas they assumed Omf never had the time to show them because they had go beaten half ways through. They took a major liking to the art studio. It was gorgeous. Kids were quiet and mostly just listening to music while doing crafts, painting, sketching, and anything that could be a creative outlet. They sat on a table with another kid and set up their canvas. Now, what they really wanted to test was if they could paint with their tail. It was pretty wide but not to large, it was manageable. The sky blue color the studio had was amazing, not only was the color vibrant and exactly what they wanted, it also tasted like sweet cotton candy. 

“Excuse me?” Said the girl at the table. She looked to be the same age as Payton. She wore a blue turtleneck And had long brown hair. She had the ears of a donkey which made Payton think maybe she was the gold  hybrid or something, they knew some things about Greek mythology despite their Christian upbringing. The girl stared at her. 

“Are you enforcing the stereotype that art kids are gay?” She said with a hint of self righteousness 

“What? No? I just like to paint. It’s always been a pastime of mine.” 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh my god…” 

“HEY! That’s offensive to some Christian hybrids here who might not feel comfortable with you using the lords name in vain!”

“But…”

“No buts! I’m going to have to make a peaceful protest against you!” The donkey girl grabbed a nearby can of purple paint and dumped it onto Payton’s head. Their clothes weren’t stained as their body basically started to absorb it, but the extra paint caused their hair to suddenly grow really long. They hated that. Suddenly they heard a voice they recognized. 

“Good one sis!” Said Lucas, who was standing at the side of the table the whole time. “You really got her good.” 

“Hey, at least I’m peaceful about my views.”

Lucas sat down next to his sister. “Did ya know my sister Lela is an excellent hair stylist?” He asked Payton. “Of course, we couldn’t go too short, didn’t want you to look too boyish.” 

Payton could feel their body boiling, literally, the paint was bubbling off their skin. They got of from their seat and stormed out of the studio. 

Omf spotted Payton in the lobby of the hideout.

“Hey Pay Pay! :]>” he exclaimed. “Woah, where did you get the reverse haircut? :]” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” They stomped their foot. 

“Hey, your obviously grumpy stumpy on something! Why don’t ya tell me? I can keep secrets.” 

“It’s the discourse hybrids.”

His jaw would’ve fell off his face if it wasn’t attached to his face. “Sugar-cookie >:[, those guys are so rude to everyone for no reason! No wonder your so cranky!”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Maybe write it down in a journal?” Omf suggested. 

“OH MY GOSH!” Shouted Lela from across the lobby. Payton perked up in shock wondering how she and her brother got there so fast.

Lucas spoke up. “Are you really gonna journal? Didn’t you know that paper was invented in Foreign land? Not only that but it was invented in China! Which is a threat to our American civilization!”

“And!” Lela interjected. “Paper is made of trees! Do you support the countless trees that are constantly murdered so you can write your sorry little woes into a hideous journal? You! Paint person…”

“Paint girl…” Lucas stated mater of factly. 

“Right… you are one of the most offensive hybrids in this whole hideout! And everyone is going to know because I’m going to tell every one!” 

If Payton was bubbling before they were boiling by now. “What kind of nonsense reasoning are you just spitballing?! That makes no sense!” 

“It’s just facts!” The siblings said in unison. 

“THATS IT!” Payton screamed. “IM GONNA KILL YOU TWO!” 

“PAYTON!” Omf restrained them. “Please! Don’t let them get to you!  They’re trying to make you feel all angry and stuff!” 

Payton struggled against Omf while the siblings look on smugly, as if daring Payton to attack. 

“You’re really going to let these losers get away with nonsense?!” Payton shouted. 

“Please! I know it’s nonsense! That’s why you can’t give into it!” 

“Go on juvenile!” Egged on Lucas. “We all know your going to end up washing dishes again like a true lady!”

“SHUT! UP!” Payton growled. 

“You clearly plan on hurting my brother over here! I’m afraid I’m gonna have to rally up my friends and we’ll hold a peaceful protest to have you silently executed for your behavior. Don’t worry it’ll be an accident. I don’t do horrible stuff like that on purpose.” 

“YOU!…”

Omf covered their mouth before they could say anything that would get them cancelled by Lela. “Sorry fellow hideout residents!” He said apologetically. “Payton here is very new to the hideout and they are under a lot of stress! They don’t mean anything they say, it’s just the emotional pressure of it all!  I’m going to take them to a place where they can let go of all of that anger in a healthy way! Toodles! :]>” 

He quickly rushed them to the elevator.

Once he got Payton in the training dojo he let them go. 

“What’s wrong with you!? I was gonna give those two what they deserve!” 

“Payton no! You can go around solving everything with violence against others :[.”

“Says who your storybook?” 

“Payton :[,” he said pleadingly. “If you do what you think is the right thing in the moment your only going to make things worse for yourself. Your going to prove them right. That’s the worse thing you can do.” 

He grabbed a sword and pointed it to a dummy. 

“You see, this is how I take out my anger. I battle these dummies. Because they’re not real! They sure as heck can’t get hurt either. So what I do is just…” he sliced the dummies head clean off with the sword. “Let it out here. It might not work as well for you, but it works for me. So I think we should give it a try. How about That? :]” 

Payton looked at their hands, then back at Omf. They tried to think of the sharpest sword imaginable. The really wanted the nonsense to stop as soon as possible. They swung their hand and

Swish

Payton’s hand had sliced through the dummy like it was butter. 

“Woah!” Omf exclaimed. “Dude! Your hand turned into a super stelar sword! :0” 

“Yeah… I guess so. Can I go slice up the siblings with it now?” 

“NO NO NO NO! Absolutely not! That’s no way to handle this. Lets try slicing up a bunch of these dummies instead. Then if you feel better and apologize to the siblings for your behavior, I’ll put in a good word to Luna, okay?”

“Apologize?”

“I know, but it’ll make you better than those two, I promise.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Payton figured it would be nice to be on Luna’s good side after what happened yesterday. So they started slicing. 

Each dummy was like exterminating another one of their problems. The fact they would never see their family again? That dummy is gone. They’ll never see their friends and girlfriend again? That dummy looks like diced carrots now. They had to live with Lizard boy’s stupid and silly rules? That dummy isn’t even recognizable anymore. 

Even though they didn’t want to admit it, this massacre of potato sacks and stuffing was actually helpful. They felt like they were taking action. Even though they weren’t. Forty five minutes later they were sweating and perfectly relaxed. 

“So…” Omf approached them carefully. “How do you feel after all of… that…” 

“Okay I guess.” Payton said, out of breath. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes from you :]. In a few minutes I’m going to find Lela and Lucas so you can say sorry. Water?”

“NO!”

“Oh my gosh I’m sorry I’m sorry. I forgot. Hey, looks like you gave yourself a haircut too!” 

Payton looked in a mirror, sure enough, all the extra hair length they got from the bucket was gone. “Thank god.” They mumbled. 

A few moments later Payton found themself sitting at a cafeteria table with Omf, Lela, and Lucas. The siblings looked as smug as ever at the two of them. They were both expecting Payton to leap out and attack them. That meant they could become public enemy number one in the hideout, and that meant discourse would be high. “It’s going to be amazing” thought the siblings. 

“Well,” Omf broke the silence. “Tell them what you wanted to say.” 

“I’m sorry” Payton said. 

“WHAT?!” Both siblings shouted. 

“Look, I am under a lot of stress with being new and all, so I’m sorry if I offended you two. I’m just trying to do my best to comprehend everything.”

“But…” Lucas said. “You…” 

“Yeah I said some stuff I regret. And I’m sorry.” 

Lela perked up. “But your supposed to be mad…” 

“And I’m not.” 

Both of them were red in the face. “Yeah?” Lucas said. “I bet your parents don’t accept your pronoun nonsense!” 

“And I dealt with that feeling.” Payton said with a bit of pride. “I felt with all the feelings I’ve been experiencing over the past two days.” 

“But-.” 

Omf cut Lela off. “I think Payton got their point across. I think they need some time to themself now.” He turned to them, giddy and proud. “Let’s get you to your room :]” 

Now, Payton knew they didn’t mean any “sorry” that they said. Those kids probably deserved to be put In their place, but Payton didn’t do that. And for some reason, they felt good about that. They could’ve hurt those guys if they wanted to., but they didn’t. They didn’t allow themself to stoop down to a level that made them look just as bad as the siblings. Payton lounged in their bed. For some reason, they felt way more tired than usual. It was only 4PM, but they felt as tired as if it was 2 in the morning. “It’s probably the training.” They thought to themself. They then peacefully zoomed off to slumber. 

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[op814kitty]

Sparks Fly - Lost the Breakup Part 4

A/n: I'm sorry for the long wait between chapter, I find it hard to write longform style things without jumping straight to the fun stuff and building enough tension.... But we all learn somehow so i hope you bear with me.

Previous Part || Next Part

The cool air hit your burning face as you rushed onto the balcony and began to pace in the small space. The hiss of the shower echoed from the bathroom. You ran your hands through your hair and heaved a deep breath. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Oscar is just a friend, right? So why do you feel like an electric current is running through your whole body? You slump onto the small chair occupying the space, you head resting in your hands. You need to clear your head. Standing back up, you spot the small notebook on the desk in the corner of the room. Quickly scrawling a note to Oscar. 

Gone for a walk, don’t wait up. 

–

The cool water of the shower did nothing to wash away the excitement running through Oscar's skin. He had almost done it. He’d almost kissed her. He tilts his head back and lets the water run over his face. The way she looked up at him minutes ago flashed through his mind, was she disappointed that he’d pulled away? Was she disgusted that it had even happened? Oscar’s mind races with the possibilities. 

Once he had washed his hair and relaxed from the day of travelling, he stepped out of the shower. Immediately, he realised that in his haste he had forgotten a change of clothes. 

Wrapping a fluffy hotel towel around his hips he poked his head out of the bathroom. Y/n was nowhere to be seen but he could see that a note had been written on the pad by the desk. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and quickly read the note before getting dressed into pyjama pants and laying on the couch to watch some netflix. If she wasn't going to be here when he went to sleep, she couldn't argue that he deserved the bed more. 

–

Oscar thankfully had left by the time you awoke. Now, half an hour later and sipping a coffee on the balcony, you decide to bite the bullet and text Oscar. 

Y/n:  I’m sorry if I snore 

Osc: You don’t, Don’t worry

Y/n:  Shouldn't have taken the couch though, I thought I had won it fair and square 

Osc: As I said, My mother would kill me if I let a lady sleep on the couch

Osc: Although I can’t say my back is thanking me though

Y/n:  Maybe you should come share the bed then…

You fling your phone onto the couch next to you and run your hands through your hair. Your phone buzzes and you grab it, before lowering it back down again. You stare down at it, eyes wide with nervous curiosity. It buzzes again and, your nerves suddenly overcome, you open your chat with Oscar. 

Osc: I mean if you’re offering

Osc: We’re both adults right 

– 

You are settled in bed once Oscar returns from his media duties, having grabbed dinner with his team on the way back to the hotel. 

“Hey, How was your day?” he asks  after coming through the door, placing his backpack next to the door and pulling his team polo over his head. 

Your mouth goes dry at his toned chest. You had seen him shirtless before, but he had really bulked up since joining the team. Everything was turned up, every muscle defined perfectly without Oscar looking strange or too big. 

“Y/n?” he asks again.

“Oh yeah” You answer lamely, “ I went and explored a little, I forgot that there's not really much to do around here outside of the race, but I was thinking that while you're at the track tomorrow I’d drive down to Stavelot and visit the Abbey and the Race Museum… If  you don’t mind me using the hire car that is?” 

Oscar smiled, “I got the car so you wouldn't be stuck at the hotel, it's yours to use. I’ll ask one of the guys to give me a ride to the track.” 

You nod, “Okay, it's just Lando didn't like me driving the hire cars, and he always wanted me at the track with him so I never got to go exploring” 

“You don’t have to explain.” Oscar grabbed his pyjama pants and his towel, “I’m going to have a shower, do you want to pick a movie to watch?” 

–

You burst out  a giggle when you look at Oscar. He’s sitting popped against the headboard of the hotel bed, mouthing  along with the words of the movie. You’d picked Cars for nostalgia, but watching Oscar remembering all the words to the childhood classic was more entertaining. 

Oscar looked at you, his ‘secret weapon’ ice cream bowl abandoned on the nightstand. 

“What?” He laughs with you, “I love this movie!”

“Nothing” You hum, curling up tight under the blankets, facing Oscar. Your eyelids fluttering when you realise how tired you are. 

“Goodnight, y/n” Oscar murmurs, running his hands through your hair splayed on the pillow. 

You mumble a goodnight back before drifting off to the murmur of the tv and his hands in your hair. 

–

YN LN spotted in Spa ahead of the Belgian GP. Does this mark a reunion for YN and Lando?

-

Lando grips his phone as he storms towards Oscar’s hotel room. Rage pumping through his veins. He bangs on the door with his fist, pausing before banging again. 

Oscar swings the door open, his hair mussed and wiping sleep from his eyes. 

“What the fuck is going on, mate?” He mumbles, leaning gently against the door. 

“Where the fuck is she?” Lando asks loudly, making a start into the room. Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s chest and pushes him back into the hallway. “I know she’s here.” 

“Can you chill out?” Oscar hisses, “Yes, shes here” 

“ I-” Lando begins but Oscar puts a hand up to stop him. 

“Mate, you fucked up. You hurt her and then when she saw you in Monaco, you hurt her again.” Oscar says. “She didn’t come to see you. She came with me. Go to bed.” 

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re fucking my girlfriend?” 

“Lando” Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s shoulder, “ She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

All of the emotions hit him at once and Lando found himself with tears running down his cheeks. 

“But I love her,” Lando sobs. “We can’t-, I can’t, I need her”

Oscar pulls him into a hug, Lando’s face smashing into his shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Lando.” Oscar releases the older man, “We can talk more in the morning”

The door to the hotel room clicks shut, leaving a sniffling Lando in the hallway. Oscar rested his head against the shut door. He never wanted to hurt Lando. Just like Lando hadn’t wanted to hurt you. They would talk in the morning though. 

Oscar turns and shuffles back to bed, slipping under the covers next to you. 

Taglist: @amz824 @cmleitora @herexpertcollector @piastrams @coriyaps @milkysoop

[avendjarin]

shifting songs day 120 !

all shifting songs

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

sign of the times ⭒ harry styles

“just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times, we gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here, just stop your crying, it’ll be alright”

“just stop your crying, have the time of your life, breaking through the atmosphere, things look pretty good from here, remember everything will be alright, we can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here”

“we never learn, we’ve been here before, why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

[floralexchange]

Ghillie

Cross-posted on Ao3 >Read there for the rest of the story and more details!

Chapter 1| Fuck You, American

Steady breathing, body still, total focus.

That’s the steps you kept repeating in your head, fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the Barrett M82 you held. You ignored the feeling of the fake grass and other debris poking into your uniform, the weight of the ghillie suit adorning your body pressing you further into the uneven terrain.

Your target— British soldiers.

You didn’t know why they were targets— they never told you much— but you stuck to following orders to avoid any unnecessary consequences. All you knew was that you were tasked with being a lookout for your team, waiting behind as you usually did to clear the way for them.

Your radio crackled, echoing in your ear before your Lieutenant Pavlova spoke through, his thick Russian swaying your focus for a second.

“Гилли. Вы на позиции?” Ghillie. You in position?

“Да.” Yes.

“Следите за Борйс. Убедитесь, что это ясно.” Watch for Bravo. Make sure it’s clear.

“Копия.” Copy.

The radio crackled off and you were left with the ambient sounds of nature, readjusting yourself until you got into the familiar position.

Steady breathing.

You spotted a British soldier snaking around the side of the building, your chest rising and falling against the flattened grass.

Body still.

You flipped the scope cover, pressing the butt of the sniper against your shoulder before wrapping your finger around the trigger.

Total focus.

The swaying leaves, birds singing through the sky, you focused on the sounds, eye peeking through the scope. The distance markers sliced through their abdomen, raising it up to accommodate for distance.

Your finger curled tight, pulling against the curved metal.

Steady, still, focus.

It happened in a blink, the sharp buzzing in your ear from the sound wave, watching the bullet dart across the field.

Headshot. The blood stains the building’s wall.

That deserves a pat on the back.

“Хорошая работа, Гилли.” Good job, Ghillie.

You were tempted to thank him, but the orders he soon spat out towards Bravo made your lips tighten, instead opting to reload your sniper for the next target.

You watched as Bravo team made their way through the field, moving on the building in their practiced formation you’ve seen a dozen times. You always hated watching them run it, especially after begging your Lieutenant to join but was continuously dismissed by him.

Gunshots quickly pulled you out of your daydreaming, pushing up slightly to try and get a view of what was happening, but they were already in the building.

A mix of Russian and English shouting reached you in the quiet of the air, before quickly being covered by shots and returning fire.

Based on the codes, commands, and communication on the radio, you concluded Bravo team was doing fine, especially as they announced room after room clear of enemies. So you did what any adolescent would do when bored, letting your mind wander and conjure up something to do to pass the time.

Your brain decided it’d be picking at the grass around you, pulling a blade out from the dirt between your pointer and thumb— watching the dirt hang on desperately before you shook it off. You ended up pulling an entire patch of grass out, leaving a bare brown spot in the field. You sighed softly, moving your gaze to another full patch before tugging at those as well.

Though, it wasn’t until multiple brown spots littered the ground around you that the radio crackled back on— the sudden urgency in your Lieutenant’s voice making you jump up.

“Гилли! Что, черт возьми, ты делал?!” Ghillie! What the fuck have you been doing?!

The radio broke up as he yelled, mixing with the yells and warnings of your other teammates.

“��десь есть другие люди!” There are other people here!

“Они американцы!” They’re American!

“Мы попали в чертову засаду!” We’ve been fucking ambushed!

“Где Антон команда?!” Where’s Alpha team?!

“Нам нужно подкрепление!” We need reinforcements!

You flipped up the scope cover and quickly looked through, you couldn’t see around the corner clearly, but you definitely saw soldiers rushing in the building.

You pushed yourself away from the grass and towards the sniper, cursing at yourself, “Ебать ебать ебать…!” Fuck fuck fuck…!

You didn’t pay attention, someone snuck in, your team was getting ambushed, it was all your fault.

The streamline of gunshots only quickened your already rapid heart rate, trying to get a shot of anyone— to at least be some kind of help in the situation.

Though, you couldn’t take the shot. You were breathing heavily, too fast, and you couldn't stabilize yourself. You couldn’t get yourself in the right position, feeling the sweat pool under the ghillie suit. You couldn’t focus on the target, the shouting coming from the radio and the incessant gunfire ricocheting in your mind.

You couldn’t do it.

In the flood of your emotions and growing frustration, you failed to detect the subtle footsteps behind you, the soft unsheathe of his knife covered by the chaos at the building. You realized it too late, picking up on the sound of the grass crunching under heavy boots made you look over your shoulder.

The man came down with his knife, making you scurry out of the way— the sharp edge just barely nicking your suit.

He quickly recovered, using his heel to kick the sniper away from you. He turned his attention back to you— pathetically trying to scamper off the ground, the heavy suit weighing you down. Wasn’t all your fault— ghillie suits don’t typically come in teen sizes.

He reached down and grabbed your ankle, pulling you back towards him. You flipped over instantly, pulling your foot back before jamming it into his shoulder.

Despite stepping back, the kick seemed to have no effect, his grip tightening around the knife’s handle before bringing it down on you again.

Your hands shot up and blocked him, struggling against the force of him pushing down. It was clear he was much stronger than you, his biceps bulging through the material of his uniform. To say you weren’t scared shitless would be lying to yourself, the guy was huge, even for a soldier.

From this position you could see his face, well, not entirely. He adorned a black balaclava with a grotesque skull plastered on the material, only leaving a slit for his eyes.

Another thing you noticed— where he was trying to stab you. Instead of aiming for your head or neck, he was aiming for your shoulder. For his strength and expertise, he had to know a stab like that wouldn’t kill you, only immobilize you.

Maybe that’s what he wanted.

You pushed with all the strength you could muster up, forearms trembling as he pushed against you, the knife edge poking into the suit’s fabric. You looked down, utilizing your free limb, pulled your leg up before driving your heel into his stomach.

“Отойди, чертов пиндо!” Get off, you fucking pindo!

He recoiled back, giving you a small window to pull out your own knife and swing it at him.

It caught his arm, the knife leaving a long cut in his uniform, but not nearly enough to keep him off you. Despite the non-damage, he retaliated by shoving you back onto the ground, snatching the knife from your grip and throwing it like a piece of candy; before taking his knife and plunging it into your thigh.

You didn’t register it at first, but the searing sensation that took over your entire leg quickly made you realize.

“Can’t kick me now, can you?” His voice rumbled in his chest, twisting the handle into your torn flesh.

You desperately tried to push him off you, a yell ripping itself from your throat. Unwanted warmth dripped down your leg, pooling in the fake grass of your suit. He eventually pulled it out, blood dripping down the blade of the knife before switching it to his other hand and plunging it into your other thigh.

The knife caught on a pad underneath the ghillie suit, making him push the blade harder before it pierced through the fabric and straight into your leg. You were fully aware this time, feeling the blade rip through the fragile layer you call your skin.

Your voice was too hoarse for it to make any call for help, feeling your conscious slip from your grasps in protest of the pain.

Though, he handled that for you— balling his hand into a fist before wrenching it into your jaw, making quick work of your vision.

You preferred it, at least you didn’t have to feel the pain.

_________

You don’t remember when you woke up, but you do remember being dragged through… somewhere. Based on the sound of heavy boots shuffling around and commands being directed, you guessed you were on another military base.

It wasn’t your base though.

The incessant English told you so, not that you couldn’t understand, you just hated it with a passion.

Once you fully grasped consciousness, you realized what was happening— bag over your head, hands restrained on chair arms, tight grip on your shoulder, you were kidnapped.

Why couldn’t they just kill me?

The familiar feeling of a wooden chair made your ass ache, trying to readjust yourself before realizing that your ankles were also restrained.

“He’s awake.”

A gruff voice from behind you made your struggle halt, despite the bag on your head, you realized there was more than one person in the room.

The bag was ripped off your head, exposing your sensitive retinas to the light positioned above you. It buzzed incessantly, highlighting the stale dust particles floating in the air. That probably explained why it was so hard to breathe, or the fact that your worst nightmare had come true.

Your eyes adjusted after a second, peering around to get a lay of the room. You couldn’t see much besides the table and someone circling around you— assuming they’re the one who took the bag off— making you glare at them as they disappeared beyond the light’s reach.

“Russian soldiers invading a British base,” the same gruff voice sounded from behind you, making you crane your neck in an attempt to see him, “Why?”

You assumed he was talking to you, the lack of any response from anyone else confirmed so, “Черт возьми. Я не говорю по-английски.” Fuck you. I don’t speak English.

They must’ve been trained on a bit of Russian, because he grumbles dissatisfied, “You’re under our custody, and I know you understand English. So speak up.”

You had no other choice, sighing deeply as you let your head hang forward, “I do not know. They don’t tell me much.”

“Lies.” His boots echoed as he approached the table, slapping down papers in front of you as he circled in front of the table.

You could see him clearly now, even from where you were sitting you could tell he was a giant compared to you. The bucket hat he adorned casted a shadow onto his eyes, which were not pleased to be looking at you. You could say the same thing, but your eyes were focused on the table instead. His finger pressed against the papers, making your gaze travel to them.

“I can not read it, it’s in English,” You deadpan at him, nudging your head towards the table.

“You can’t read English?”

You shake your head, you weren’t lying entirely, you just had a hard time deciphering English words. Though, that seemed to ruffle his feathers, making him grumble and point to a specific part on the paper.

“March 3rd, undercover Russian soldiers were found snooping around that British base. March 12th, it was infiltrated, soldiers were killed, actionable intel was stolen from that base, and hasn’t been seen since.”

March 3rd, March 12th, you had to think about those dates for a moment, you couldn’t even recall the current date.

“You think we stole it?” You pressed, biting your cheek to prevent yourself from slipping.

“I don’t think, I know,” He stood up straight, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, “Now I didn’t bring you here to chit-chat, start talkin’ or it’s gonna be worse than two stab wounds.”

The mention reminded you of the throbbing pain, making you glance down at your thighs. They weren’t tied up, so you could see the dried blood and rashly wrapped bandages around them. At least they didn’t take off your ghillie suit.

“I told you, I do not know anything,” You gritted, tearing your gaze away from the papers.

He sighed deeply, rubbing his beard as he circled around the table.

“I’m givin’ you a chance here, and it’s your choice whether you want to take it.” He stood beside you, making you glance at his chest to prevent craning your neck.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you looked at your restrained wrists, “Doesn’t matter if I had information, I would not tell you anyway.”

The minuscule amount of mercy in his eyes flickered away, sending a small shiver down your spine. He unsheathed his knife before reaching and plunging it into your hand, your bone stopping the blade from going completely through.

You tried to pull your hand away, the pain shooting in your arm as you cried out, but the restraints kept you bound to the chair.

“Now, you wanna start talkin’?” He spoke, his voice carrying considerably more weight.

A tremor shook your body as you slumped forward in the chair, the blood from your hand dripping and staining the wood before plopping onto your thigh— joining the rest of the spilled blood.

“My… my loyalty is not to them, if that is what you’re thinking,” You groaned, trying to ignore the immense burning in your hand, “Even if I knew something… they would kill me before I tell it to you.”

Something flickered in his eye, confusion or intrigue, urging you to continue, “So… if you want to kill me, fucking do it. I see gun in your pocket, they will shoot me anyways, might as well do it now.”

Before he could respond to your plea, aggressive knocking rang out through the room. He looked into the darkness, nodding his head presumably at someone near the door, before footsteps made their way over. You squinted in an attempt to see where you were as it opened, but the bag was thrown back over your head, shrouding your vision again.

“You have to stop the interrogation, now.” The man’s voice was higher than the one interrogating you, but still carried the same accent.

“What’s the hold up?” Another voice from inside the room spoke, lighter and more annunciated.

“That’s a fuckin’ kid, we just ran every soldier’s files from the attack, he’s not even officially registered.”

You felt the man’s presence leave your side, following his footsteps to the door, “What do you mean, kid?”

“Lasater was helping me unencrypt the files for the soldiers, we found everyone who participated in the ambush— except him,” He spat out, continuing before they could stop him, “We thought he was just recently enlisted. But no— he’s not registered because it would be illegal to.”

“How old?” The lighter voice questioned.

“From what we gathered, I’d guess fifteen to seventeen.”

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” He dragged.

There was a slight pause before the gruff voice spoke again, “Russian army with underage recruits? And you’re sure he didn’t lie?”

“That’s what we thought initially, but records show he’s been under them for at least a year. Higher ups would’ve noticed the first week, meaning they knew about this.”

Collective chatter started buzzing around the room, picking up on the immense amount of curses and words of disbelief meant that it was a shock to all.

“Settle down, we need to get to the bottom of this,” He sighed heavily, something you deemed a habit of his, before speaking to the man again, “You and Lasater just try and figure out what Russians were doing on that base, I’ve got this one.”

With that, the door closed with a heavy click, and you picked up on the man making his way back to you.

The bag was ripped off your head again, making you squint, though your eyes adjusted much faster, “You wanna tell us about that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “They took me in, I do not remember much from before.”

“You don’t have parents? A family?”

“No. They were killed because of America, and the UK, whichever one you are,” You spat, straining against the bonds despite the flash of pain that consumed you, “I had to watch my family die because of you fucking people!”

Sympathy stopped him from retorting back, all he saw was a kid— but all you saw was pity.

Every spec of fear melted out of your body, your hands balling into fists as you glared at him, “Do not pity me! You stab me with knife, and now look down on me?!” You yelled, yanking on your restraints before someone pulled you back against the chair.

“Look,” He sighed, “That was before I knew you were underage, and pity you because you’re a kid, not because I feel bad.”

Your breathing became heavier by the second, unbridled rage starting to bubble in your chest, “Fuck you.” You growled.

He huffed and stepped back, motioning someone over, a man with short curly hair approaching him.

“Radio medical to prep for someone.”

The man nodded, “Yes sir.” At least you had a face to the lighter voice now.

He turned back towards you, his expression stern as he contemplated something, “You’re still under our custody, so don’t fuck about.”

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter twelve

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

You snapped your eyes open and coughed up a bunch of seawater, your lungs burning.

Once you got a chance to focus, you realized you were on a beach. 

"Huh?  Where am I?"

That's when it all started coming back to you.

Arlong.

The stabbing.

Nami.

"Dammit! How long have I been out?" you groaned, your throbbing head making you stumble as you tried to stand up.

It looked around sometime in the afternoon.

You ruffled your wings to get the water off them and flew into the air. 

"I gotta go help the boys."

You managed to get back to Arlong Park and saw this giant cow-fish monster hybrid attacking the boys.

"Heavenward Stomp!" You shouted, gripping the handle of your mace tight as you forward flipped, bringing it down on the monster's head.

Hard.

You landed on the platform next to the boys and realized the reverberations knocked out half of Arlong's crew. 

"Sorry I'm late to the party guys," you panted, glancing at the now unconscious monster. 

"Glad to see you're back in the land of the living but YOU ALMOST TOOK US OUT WITH THAT ATTACK!!" Usopp shouted.

"Stop shouting at my (y/n)! I'm so glad you're safe, my angel!" Sanji dreamily shouted.

"Your (y/n)?" Zoro cocked a brow disapprovingly. 

"Nice to see you guys, too," you sighed.

"Damn it, (y/n)! I was gonna hit him," Luffy pouted.

That's when you realized his feet were stuck in the ground.

"Why are your feet in the pavement?" you asked, confused. 

"'Cause I was gonna do the Gum-Gum Pinwheel!" he whined. 

He paused for a moment, moving side to side.

"Well you can remove them now... right?" you suspiciously asked, raising a brow.

"How dare you hurt our brother!" Hachi angrily shouted, taking your attention away from Luffy.

"It seems that we must now join the fight," Ponytail said in a dangerous voice.

"Now you'll get an education in the inferiority of your species. Choo,"  Lips glared. 

"Oh.. .really... I'd like to see that," Zoro smirked.

"Um, guys? There's something I should tell you," Luffy chimed.

Just then, Hachi started inhaling, and it looked like his chest was inflating.

"What the hell's that octopus doing?" Zoro asked.

"Octopus is best when it's cut thin and salted. Add some olive oil and paprika and it makes the perfect snack while drinking," Sanji smirked.

"Listen to me, guys. I'm kind of in trouble," Luffy chimed again.

"Take this! Zero Vision! Hachi Ink Jet!" Hachi shouted, spewing black ink from his mouth.

You, Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji jumped out of the way, but Luffy stayed put and got covered in the black goop.

"Idiot! How come you didn't dodge that?!" Zoro exclaimed.

"AAAAAAAAAH! I can't see squat!" Luffy shouted, aggressively rubbing his eyes.

"Now to finish you off!" Hachi shouted, picking up a large column.

"C'mon, Luffy! Run!!" Usopp shouted from behind a pillar.

"That's the problem! I can't run! I can't even walk! My feet are kinda stuck," he groaned.

"You're the one who stuck 'em in the ground in the first place!" you exclaimed as Hachi drew closer and closer.

"Always thinkin' ahead," Zoro facepalmed.

"One Hachi Ink Jet, served on the rocks," Hachi stated, dropping the giant hunk of stone on Luffy, but Sanji kicked it in half.

"You're such a pain," Sanji sighed.

"Sanji that was so totally awesomely awesome!" Luffy cheesed, pumping his fists in the air.

"Looks like I ended picking one hell of an idiot to be my captain," Sanji smirked.

"We all did," Zoro groaned.

"Welcome to the club," you crossed your arms, rolling your eyes.

"But the truth... is that our idiot captain is far better than a gang who'd prey on a lady," Sanji finished.

"A lady, huh? Hmph!" Ponytail scoffed.

"You rushed into certain death for one lousy girl? I think that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Sanji's prideful expression quickly turned sour.

"Lousy girl? If you insult Nami one more time, I can promise you that you'll go from fishman to fish sticks, got that?" He glared, taking out his cigarette.

"Your skills are quite exceptional for a human, but I must admit that chivalry from a pirate seems just a little fake," Ponytail skeptically crossed his arms.

"I'm damn good at what I do, and I guarantee you there's nothing fake about my desire to help a beautiful lady in need," Sanji smirked, letting out a puff of smoke.

Ponytail cracked his knuckles.

"Looks like I'll be acquainting you with the true superiority of the fishman species."

Usopp tried pulling Luffy out from the ground but he stayed right in place.

'How deep did he stick his feet?!'

"Maybe no one told you that the penalty for playing around in Arlong Park... is death!" Hachi shouted, picking up another hunk of stone and chucking.

"Hey, Octopus," Zoro chimed, somehow getting in front of Hachi, "They're a little bit busy at the moment. Why don't you take me on?"

"Ohh! You're Zoro! I forgot! You can't get away with tricking me!" Hachi shouted, slamming down the giant hunk of stone on Zoro, but he easily dodged.

"And how dare you mercilessly slaughter so many of my brothers!"

"That stuff's old news, octopus man. I personally don't care what reasons you have for wanting to kill me. The situation has changed. You see, the tables have turned. You're not the hunters anymore, understand? Now it's you fish freaks who are being hunted," Zoro smirked, unsheathing his sword.

Suddenly, Usopp let go of Luffy and the boy slammed into Choo, the Lips guy, throwing him across the courtyard.

"Oh, you're dead," he spat, sitting up and running for Usopp.

Usopp screamed and quickly ran away, Choo following not too far behind.

"Crap! I'm gonna go help Usopp. I take it you three can handle these guys?" you quickly asked, unfurling your wings.

"Yeah!" Zoro, Sanji, and Luffy agreed in unison.

You gave a firm nod before flying off after Usopp and Choo.

"Jeez! How fast can these two run?!" you exclaimed, picking up speed as you tried to catch up to Usopp.

He and Choo had ran about a quarter mile down this path with rice crops on one side, and trees on the other.

Once you saw that Usopp had gotten a good distance away from the fishman, you landed next to him and began running.

"Idiot! The villagers said you shot him in the face with fire! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" You shouted, smacking him upside the head as the both of you ran.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time!" he shouted back.

He was sweating bullets.

For some reason, he stopped running and turned around, squinting at the distance.

"Jeez. We ran so fast that we lost him. They may be able to swim like fish when they're in the water, but on land they're just like turtles. Nanny Nanny Boo Boo! Stupid, stupid turtle man! You can't catch anything! You just got a big mouth. Big mouth stupid turtle guy! Hahahahaha!" Usopp taunted, doing a stupid dance.

You suddenly heard a shuffling behind the both of you, and knew exactly who it was.

"You're a very funny man, but you're not very smart, are you?" Choo asked.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing.

"Learn to survive gracefully, Usopp," you groaned.

Usopp quickly took off again, Choo following, and you ran after them.

By the time you'd caught up to them, Usopp was laying in a puddle of blood, unmoving, as Choo stood over him, a smug look on his face.

Your eyes went wide.

'Crap! That seawater made me slower than I thought!'

"Heavenward Stomp!" You shouted, drawing your mace and bringing it down on Choo, but he dodged just in time.

"Ah, yes. The girl. I had almost forgotten about you," he smirked.

"Usopp, you dumbass! Are you alive?! Can you move?! I swear, I leave you alone for two seconds!" You frantically exclaimed, keeping your eyes on Choo as you got into a fighting stance. 

Suddenly, he ran at you and jumped in the air, forming a fist.

You quickly moved out the way and the punch collided with the ground, creating a tiny crater.

"Angelic Redemption!" you spat, backhanding your mace into Choo's shoulder. 

He let out a yell of pain but grabbed your wrist, throwing you and your weapon into a tree, headfirst.

"Usopp Hammer!" Usopp shouted, smacking Choo in the face with a mallet.

After shaking the blurriness out of your vision, you suddenly felt someone yank you behind a couple of trees.

"Huh?! What're y—?" "Shhh! He doesn't know where we are right now. Just leave it to me," Usopp whispered, covering your mouth.

"Special Attack: Lead Star!" he shouted, throwing a sake bottle at the fishman.

Coo caught it and looked at it for a moment before Usopp shot it to a million pieces.

"Damn it, Usopp! That was good sake!" you whisper yelled at the sniper.

Choo's hands quickly covered his eyes and he backed into the water from the rice crops.

"Is this the only way you can fight, you coward?! At least the woman had the guts to take me head on. But there's no place to hide from my squirt cannon!" Choo shouted.

He put his face underwater and began sucking all the water from the section until he was as round as Luffy's Gum-Gum Balloon.

"Squirt Cannon!" he shouted, spraying a giant, pressurized beam of water at the trees.

He missed by a hair, but the area he did hit was blown into a perfect circle.

"No way! This sucks!" Usopp shouted, sticking his head out from behind the tree and going wide eyed at the sight of the destruction.

"I'll shred you to pieces. Squirt Machine Gun!" Choo exclaimed, shooting these small squirts of water that were the equivalent of bullets.

"AHHH! HE FOUND US!" Usopp shouted, crouching behind a tree and covering his head.

"Gee! I wonder how!" you shouted back, covering your ears from the loud firing noise.

Just then, Choo kicked down the tree you were hiding behind and Usopp got thrown to the floor.

But the boy shot a Flaming Star and set Choo on fire.

"Ack! Hot! Hot! Hot! Fire! Water! Need water!" Choo shouted, running back to the crops.

"Oh, no, ya don't," you smirked, flying after him.

"Judgement..." you started, throwing your mace in the air as you flew.

"DAY!" you exclaimed, catching it and bashing Choo over the head before he even knew what was happening.

Blood squirt out from his head and he dropped to the ground, right in the water.

You landed and sheathed your mace before placing your hands on your knees as you caught your breath. 

You turned around to see Usopp cheesing as big as you've ever seen and laughed.

"We make a pretty good team, Long Nose," you panted, smiling.

"Hell yeah we do! We did it!" he smirked, doing a little happy dance.

"Alright, enough horseplay. We gotta get back to the main fight and help out," you started, standing up straight and unfurling your wings. 

Usopp's expression quickly fell.

"Do we have to?" he whimpered, his lips quivering.

"Oh stop it, you big baby. Let's go," you rolled your eyes, taking off on the path as Usopp ran close behind.

The two of you got back to Arlong Park to see Zoro standing off with Arlong, his swords drawn.

Usopp quickly shot an egg star at the fishman, but he wiped it off as if it was nothing, which it pretty much was.

Zoro quickly swiped his swords at Arlong's nose but they clashed, not making a single scratch, and in the background you saw Hachi getting back up.

"We're not done, Zoro! You may have put me down, but it wasn't for good! Cause I'm still alive, and now I'm gonna get your other friend!"

And with that, he dove into the water.

'Sanji's probably down there. He can handle himself. Right now I gotta help Zoro.'

"What's with all these bandages?" Arlong smirked as he hoisted Zoro up, ripping off the bandages with a squirt of blood.

Your eyes went wide.

The wound got worse since you first bandaged it.

'How in the hell is he still breathing?! How is he still alive?!'

Arlong threw away the blood-soaked bandages and wound up his fist, getting ready for a punch, but Zoro laughed.

"If a person stays still, their wounds won't open up," he started.

"Is that right? Do you find your situation amusing?" Arlong smirked.

"I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about Octo-Man," Zoro smirked back.

You grabbed your mace and stood up, taking off as fast as you could.

'Warriors battle is sacred my ass. I'll take the shame.'

You threw the handle around Arlong's neck and grabbed its butt, pulling to put him in a choke-hold.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but my neck is far too thick for your puny human body to choke," Arlong smirked, grabbing you by your wing and throwing you into the ground, creating a small crater.

"(y/n), you damn idiot," Zoro grunted.

"Fine, I'll leave you to die then," you groaned, weakly lifting your head.

'Damn, this guy is strong!'

"Zoro! (y/n)!" Luffy happily shouted, shooting his hands down from above and wrapping them around you two.

"Where the hell have you been?" you coughed, blood starting to pour down your head from the slam.

"Hey! Hold on! What're you—!" Zoro's sentence was cut short as the two of you got yanked into the air.

"Let's switch!" Luffy chuckled.

"DAMMIT, LUFFY!" you and Zoro shouted in unison, your voices growing distant.

海賊狩

"That idiot! I'm gonna kill 'im," Zoro groaned, face down on the steps you two landed on.

"Get in line," you grumbled, propping yourself up against a pillar.

He fell sleep, and you groaned in pain.

'I can use my power now. He's gonna be asleep for a while.'

You sucked a breath between your teeth, allowing your head, wing, and shoulder to glow. 

They burned, and you winced, but they slowly began to heal, bones snapping back into place, feathers regrowing, and blood replenishing.

When it was all done, the divine glow stopped and you laid down, slowly drifting into sleep.

Unaware that a certain green haired swordsman witnessed everything.

[sabookey]

There are two pieces of advice on first drafts that I constantly return to:

"The first draft is just you telling yourself the story." — Terry Pratchett

This was the first piece of writing advice that felt absolutely revolutionary to me on how I write. It's why this is my tag for first draft tips & encouragement.

I always really struggled with getting through a first draft. I'd come up with an idea, jot down some notes, write about three chapters and then get stuck. To this day, the first draft is always the hardest part to get through for me.

I know we hear the whole "the first draft doesn't have to be good" advice thrown around all the time, but I think a lot of people struggle to wrap their head around how to apply that, and this is where Pratchett's advice is so much more solid.

The first draft is just for you. No one else ever needs to look at it or even know it exists. It doesn't even need to have complete chapters or scenes or even sentences. Hell, I'm coming around to the idea that sometimes, the first draft doesn't even need to be much more than an outline. It's the underpainting, the pie crust, the foundation. Which brings me around to the second quote:

“I'm writing a first draft and reminding myself that I'm simply shoveling sand into a box so that later I can build castles.” ― Shannon Hale

This sounds flowery and again, I think that can be hard to translate into actionable things. But it's similar to what Pratchett said. What they mean is, no writer just spits out golden perfect sentences from nowhere. Good writing doesn't exist in the void, and good writers aren't just plucking sentences out of the aether fully-formed.

You can't revise a blank page. Blank pages are scary, and you need to just start throwing words at them.

Ever seen Princess Diaries? Remember the painting scene, where they're throwing darts to burst paint-filled balloons? Pretty quick that canvas is covered in splashy, messy colors. That's your first draft.

Throw words at the page. Who is there? What are they doing? What are they thinking or talking about? Start with just the dialogue if you need to.

Don't think about making good sentences, just tell yourself what happens. Take the bullet points from your outline and slap them in there if you need to.

Later, when it's time to work on the second draft, you can pass back over those scraps and vague collections of dialogue and feelings and hazy scenes. Nope, it's not pretty. But it exists. The basic shape of your story is there. The building materials, the sand, waiting in messy piles that you can run your fingers through. Add water, pick up your pail and trowel. Now you can start to give it more defined shape. It's easier when the page isn't blank, right? And later, you can come back with an armload of shells and pretty stones and decorate your new castle until it glitters.

[babyflorencee]

You're stuck with me

Regulus Black x fem!Reader

"I just don't understand why you're so upset over this," I said, with a confused expression.

"Y/n, how can you be so stupid? That guy was hitting on you harder than a hammer to a nail, and he was so damn obvious about it!" Regulus yelled, roughly running his hand through his Brown locks.

This had been going on for around 2 hours. All the yelling, screaming, and insults that were being spat at each other, just to prove a point, that neither of us was able to get across.

Why was Regulus so mad, you might ask? Well, he's mad because some guy at a diner asked for my phone number, and was just overall hitting on me the whole night, even though he was well aware that I was with Reggie. However, if it wasn't for Regulus' trust issues and lack of self-control, maybe we wouldn't have left the guy limp on the floor with a bullet between his eyes. "What? Am I not good enough for you so you have to go out and seek attention from other people!" he yelled, face red with anger.

Regulus has always been insecure about our relationship. He thought I deserved better, so when he said that, my heart immediately broke. However, I was still mad at him.

"Trust me babe, you're more than enough! But that's not what the problem is!" I yelled back, getting more and more annoyed with him.

"Then please, enlighten me with what the problem is!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air like a madman.

"You want to know what the problem is? You're way too clingy, and you're jealous ALL the damn time. Like I get, I'm yours and only yours! Reg, we are literally engaged. I'm not going anywhere, so why the fuck can't you get that through that thick head of yours?" I yelled back, not thinking about what I was saying. However, what I said hurt him, and he wasn't about to let that comment slide.

"Jealous? Well, excuse me for not being content with the idea of another man's hands all over that body of yours. You know, the body that's mine, and only mine to see and touch!" The whole fight was pointless; we both knew this, but neither of us wanted to back down.

Regulus and I have been in a relationship for a little over 3 years. We very clearly loved each other with all our hearts. We have only fought four times in our entire relationship, but this fight was different, but in the worst way possible. The intrusive thought of Reggie and me breaking up started to seem less crazy.

"Listen, I don't like sharing. I never have, and I absolutely refuse to share you. I don't want to fight about this anymore. It's silly. Can we just agree to disagree that the whole thing is that guy's fault?" He said, as he opened his arms out for me, with a hopeful expression.

I didn't respond. I just walked over towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Regulus immediately starts burying his head into my neck, holding onto me as if I was going to disappear any minute. Once we pulled away, he refused to look at me, instead; he looked at the floor. "Can we cuddle?" He asked, his voice so quiet I could barely make out what he said.

"Of course," I took his hand in mine, smiling up at him.

Once we got to mine and Regulus' bedroom, I was immediately pulled on the bed, being crushed by Regulus' weight. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, I knew something was on his mind. "Hey Reg, what's wrong?" I asked, already having an idea of what he was going to say.

He sighed, rolling off of me so that he was on his side of the bed. "I hate fighting with you," he said, his voice breaking.

I pulled him into a tight hug, wishing that the fight had never happened. "I was scared, for a minute there, that we were going to break up," he mumbled, into my shoulder.

"Never in a million years," I whispered into his ear, entangling my hand into his hair.

"You're stuck with me," I said, laughing a little.

We lay back down, grasping onto each other as if our lives depended on it. "I'm glad that's over," Reg said, placing a kiss on my cheek, yawning.

"Night love," I said, rubbing his lower back until I eventually fell asleep.

[centipede-rain]

This story is about an AU by @janus-cadet , in which the fifteenth Doctor, The Toymaker, Rogue and the Master are a polycule.

Go check it out!

This oneshot is specifically about Rogue dealing with past grief and loss, as well as his insecurities about his current relationships.

Rogue walks through his ship, tenderly running his fingertips along various edges as he walks by. It’s definitely cluttered, barely any free space left. ‘The things you don’t recognise are called surfaces‘, the Doctor had said, leading him into his Tardis for the first time.

And maybe the Doctor is right - maybe his ship is due for a cleaning. Maybe there really are some things he no longer needs.

Even thinking about it gives him anxiety. The thought of his ship, empty and clean, feeling akin to the almost sterile glow of the Tardis. All light and space.

He can’t.

He can’t change anything, because then it won’t be like it was when it was still them and not just him.

Its stupid. Ridiculous and sentimental, useless. Keeping everything as it had been before wouldn’t bring them back. Nothing would, and nothing could. Yet there he is, stuck in time every time he enters his own ship, staring at those metaphorical footprints in the sand. Traces of a shared life put on halt permanently. Their last moment together, caught in amber - preserved in in perfect clarity, yet just as dead.

Rogue stops apruplty, his gaze caught on an irregularity.

Something isn’t right. Something is different.

Something is… missing.

He ignores the immediate surge of panic flaring up inside of him, taking away his breath, making his heart kick into overdrive.

Nonetheless, his breathing turns shallow, his gaze burning a hole into the empty space where something used to be.

‘Nothing ever truly gets lost, you just have to find it’ they had always said.

You just have to find it.

But nothing ever changes in his ship, because he doesn’t dare to touch anything, to truly live in it. He’s too afraid of change, too afraid of moving on.

So if something is missing, that means someone took it.

Someone.

Who? Why? Who could hate him enough to do such a thing? He can certainly think of plenty people that hate him, thanks to his activity as a bounty hunter - but none of them would choose these kinds of convoluted, cruel mind games over a bullet to the head. Or a laser, particle beam, very sharp rock - depending on the person.

None of this makes sense.

There’s nothing he can do now, to stop the walls from closing in on him.

Everything here reminds him of them, and he’s losing them all over again. He failed to keep them safe, and now he is failing to honor their memory.

How could he have managed to lose track of the toy they gave him?

…toy.

It’s a toy that’s missing.

Suddenly, the many possibilities of who could have taken it are narrowed down considerably.

Clenching his teeth way too hard, he turns around sharply, leaving his ship.

He knows just where to go.

No matter how often he’s been in the Tardis by now, it’s still just as impressive as the very first time. Something so vast and powerful, hidden in such an inconspicuous shell. Much like the Doctor himself, now that he thinks about it.

Speaking of which - the Doctor is happily tinkering on the console, up to his arms in cables when he notices him approach.

“Rogue, honey! It’s so good to see you!”

Then, noticing his dark expression, that brilliant smile gives way to compassion and concern.

“What’s the matter?”

“The big teddybear from my ship,” he forces out through clenched teeth. “It’s gone.”

The Doctor, sensing the severity of the situation, lays down the piece of technical equipment he had been holding, and lays a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure we’ll find it again. Did you ask the Toymaker? It is a toy after all, sort of his speciality. Even if we don’t find it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to make you a new one.”

Rogue stiffens.

“I think he took it.” The words taste of bile, and betrayal.

“I don’t know why. But who else could have?”

The Doctor, ever understanding, doesn’t recoil. There’s no judgement in those warm eyes, only curiosity.

“Did you ask him?”

“No. I don’t think I should talk to him in this state.”

Because he’s angry, and hurt, and terrified, and he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, break something that can’t be repaired. He doesn’t want to shatter the hesitant trust that the entity had seemingly started developing for him. But if he’s right…

“I mean, I still sometimes feel like they only have eyes for you. Which, fair - have you seen yourself? I don’t blame them, it’s normal to take some time getting used to someone new. But I thought… I don’t see why he would…”

He’s pulled into a tight hug, immediately burying his face in the crook of the Doctor’s neck. He hates how vulnerable his voice sounds. He should be better at handling this, more adult.

“I knew they were both apprehensive about me joining, but I thought they ultimately agreed. What if he lied? What if he hates me, and wants me gone? He could have been too nervous to say no, scared to disappoint you…”

“Don’t sell yourself short babes, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You’ve been bonding lately, haven’t you?”

“I thought so too. But maybe I said or did something wrong-“

“Come on honey, have some faith in him. Have you considered he might be trying to do something nice?”

Rogue freezes.

How stupid of him. Of course the Toymaker couldn’t know what that particular toy means to him.

Of course he wouldn’t have devised this to hurt him. What an awful assumption to make about someone who had been nothing but kind and understanding.

Thank god he had come to the Doctor first.

“I… do you think so?”

The Doctor’s smile is bright and warm, comforting. Immediately, Rogue’s heart feels lighter.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

The Doctor’s hands tangle in the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. He follows along easily, grateful for the affection.

“For now, I know just how to distract you~”

When Rogue steps back into his ship, feeling significantly more relaxed and happy, his eyes immediately seek out that empty space.

Which is no longer empty.

The Teddy is back. It’s grimy, matted fur is no longer dusty, its limbs no longer ripped. There’s nothing creepy about it now - it looks… nice. It’s undoubtedly still the same bear, only now it’s fluffy and soft, comforting.

There’s a note attached, on lilac paper. With shaking hands, Rogue reaches out to read it.

“You should really take better care of your toys, this one was all broken. Luckily, as your partner, I’m willing to help out!

-T <3”

Carefully, making very sure not to crinkle it, Rogue slips the note into the inner pocket of his jacket. To be treasured and kept safe forever.

He runs his fingers through the fur of the big bear, letting the sensation of it sink in. Somehow, it no longer looks like a depressing reminder of his past, of what could have been. It looks… sweet. Comforting.