#blackout follow train | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greatstormcat · 2 months

Text

Going Dark

Captain John Price x GN!reader

MDNI 18+, canon typical violence

This is my submission to the lovely @glitterypirateduck challenge using the prompts: 3. A rescue takes place 9. The entire scene takes place in the dark (power outage, blackout)

The lights go out plunging the large, open plan office into darkness, shouting and cursing erupting from the armed men and women around you, their fear unmistakable.

“Fuck, they’re here,” one of them shouts, an audible tremble in their voice.

“Shut up!” someone snaps back, the metallic noise of a weapon being handled worrying close to you. “Just remember your training and shoot anything that moves.”

“How the fuck do I see them in the dark?” the first voice whines petulantly. You worm your way under the desk, your colleague’s desk, to hide. You’re the last one left, the others dragged from the room and dead for all you knew. You were most likely the last one left alive now, and you’d already said your goodbyes in your head to everyone you’d ever loved while demands were yelled over a phone to the hostage negotiators about side your office building hours before. The sun had long set since then, and you knew times was ticking towards your final moments.

The confused hubbub around you starts to settle, the lights remaining off and darkness curling around you in your little hiding space under the desk. That is until the world explodes in a shower of glass and ear shattering noise around you. Gunfire peels around you, no matter how hard you press your palms over your ears and squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like the end of the world, and maybe it was, until the sounds suddenly stop and all you can hear is your own ragged breathing and the blood thundering through your head.

You stay still, frozen like a rabbit in headlights in your cramped space, until something touches your trembling knee and you flinch, smashing the top of your head against the desk above you and sending sparks across your vision.

“Easy now, you’re okay,” a deep voice says incredibly softly. You blink your eyes, the darkness blinding you but you’re certain if you could see everything would be swimming after that knock.

“Don’t kill me,” you plead to the unseen speaker, voice thick with fear.

“I’m one of the good guys,” the voice reassures you, and you feel a hand on your forearm gently gripping you and tugging you out from your hiding space. “Out you come,” he insists firmly, and you find yourself following his instructions and kneel on the ground beside the desk instead of crouching under it.

You can’t see him in the dark, the light filtering through the windows doing nothing to show you anything other than where the outside is. There’s a faint green light though, hovering just in front of you, and that’s when you understand.

“You’ve got those night vision things on? So you can see where you are?” you whisper, frowning. There’s a soft chuckle, and you hear him shift again and the green glow moves with the sound.

“Affirmative,” he says. “I can see them, but they can’t see me. That’s why we cut the power, it gives us an edge.”

The pale glow moves around, dipping out of sight and returning, and you assume he is looking around the room. You can only imagine the scene, the furniture thrown around, bodies on the floor… you shudder.

“D’you know your way around here?” he asks, with the same gruff but calm tone.

“Yes, I’ve worked here for years,” you answer, wishing you could see as well as he can right now. Your limbs begin to tremble, and you rub your hands together to try and keep them still. “What’s… I mean, can I ask your name?” You blurt out, teeth chattering slightly and head pounding.

“Captain Price,” he answers and you hear him get up, his equipment rustling and rattling slightly. “Up you get, let’s get you out of here.” You feel a large hand grab your wrist, the rough fabric of a glove scratching at your skin as he tugs you upwards. Your hand is pressed against something firmly. “There’s a handle there on my pack, hold that and don’t let go. That way we won’t get separated.”

“Okay, got it,” you mumble.

You barely have time to wrap your fingers around the padded material before he moves and tugs you along with him. You shuffle your feet until you manage to find a way to follow that doesn’t have you bumping into him like a straggling toddler. You quietly guide him to the door to the hallway, and tell his how to reach the stairs, but you have a suspicion he knows where he is going anyway and is just trying to give you something to think about.

There’s a loud noise to your left as you stagger down the hallway towards the stairs, and your rescuer spins towards it, pulling you down to the ground in a frightening show of reactions and speed. Blindly and clumsily you have no option but to sprawl on the floor, just a fraction of a second before bullets tear out on an opened doorway towards you.

Thankfully you manage to stifle your startled cry, but you’re sure everyone can hear the hammering of your heart over the rattling of bullets. Price shifts position and pulls you across the floor after him before, to your abject horror, straddling your chest. Thick, heavily muscled thighs encapsulate your torso, pinning you underneath him as he fires back at the attacker.

The darkness is all consuming apart from where light flares from the muzzle of the opposed weapons. In a daze of confusion and possible concussion from hitting the ground, you look up. You catch fractions glimpses of military equipment, a web of straps and pockets, above that a helmeted head and those night vision goggles. A beard pokes from beneath.

Too late you realise your hands have come to rest on those thighs, and your fingers have anchored onto a matched pair of straps across them. Probably a set of fun holsters, you tell yourself, but it’s comforting to have something solid to hold. As he tenses against the recoil of his weapon you can feel his body tense and shift, and a tiny part of your brain wonders how that would compare to him doing other activities.

The firing stops and a horrible rattling, wheezing fills the ringing silence, followed by a thump. You thank the darkness for concealing yet another dead body from you.

“You okay down there?” Price asks, and tries to move but your grip on his holster jerks him back. “C’mon, you’re okay. Let go now, nice and easy,” he says softly. You feel gloved hands peeling your numb fingers away one by one until he can move off of you, and the absence of his weight makes your anxiety spike.

“Sorry… I… um…. All the gunfire….” you babble, trying to quell the rising tide of emotion.

“Don’t worry, it’s not something I expect you to handle all that well. Just remember, you’re my mission right now. I’m here to get you out of here in one piece, so just stick close to me and do what I say, when I say,” he says, his tone calm and authoritative without making him sound unkind. One gloved hand pulls you up to your feet, and then squeezes the top of your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I bet you say that to all the hostages you rescue,” you burble in an attempt to sound less terrified, but your voice is brittle, betraying the absolute absence of bravery in you right now.

“No,” he chuckles, “just the special ones.” He actually sounds genuinely amused by your attempt at bravado, and you smile foolishly before remembering that while you cannot see him, he absolutely can see you. You’re sure you hear a soft chuff of a laugh as your expression changes to humiliation.

“Right… well… let’s get going then before anyone else jumps out,” you managed to say, the hint of a smile playing on your lips which you really hope he isn’t seeing.

“Right you are then, love,” he replies, and that word has you snapping your head back towards him. He places your hand on his back again and starts heading towards the stairs. Flirting with a heavily armed man who has come to rescue you seems a really stupid idea, but he doesn’t seem all that bothered about it. If anything, it feels like he is enjoying it.

The cavernous space of the emergency stairwell opens, the dim emergency lights providing just enough light to stop you from falling down the steps and breaking your neck as you move quickly down behind the Captain. He lifts the goggles but keeps you behind him so you aren’t shielded by his enormous bulk. Now you can see him, you appreciate just how huge he is.

“We need to cross the main foyer to get you to safety, so keep behind me still. Okay?”

“Yes, sure thing,” you answer and stop trying to peer at him. You get a hint of blue eyes above the beard, but it’s impossible to see much more as he keeps you moving. The door opens and you are quickly marched through the destruction that is left of your building's main foyer, furniture strewn around and smashed, the big windows blown smashed to pieces, and the glare of giant lamps and emergency light shining through them like supernovas.

“Nearly there now, c’mon,” he chivvies you up as you squint at the lights ahead, struggling to adjust after the near total darkness. As you pass outside to the cold night air Price pulls you forward and pushes you towards a waiting paramedic. The paramedic wraps you in a shiny blanket, as though you’d just finished running the marathon and not survived a life or death situation, and urges you towards the back of the ambulance nearby. You look back, your heart dropping as you realise Price has left your side already and is walking away towards three other tall figures.

“Wait, wait where did he go?” you blurt out as Price vanishes into the crowd of bodies and flashing lights. Police officers mill about, and you spot a few tall figures in military garb, but you lose sight of them quickly. “No, I want to talk to him,” you insist, throat burning with a sense of loss at the fact that you didn’t get to see his face properly.

A few weeks pass, life returning to its humdrum routine. Your bosses find a temporary place for everyone to work from after giving everyone that survived the attack two weeks paid leave. You find your thoughts constantly returning to Price, hearing his voice in your sleep every single night, especially those nights where the nightmares take hold. He always turns up, guiding you to safety, the feel of his solid body against yours a burning sensation. You feel ashamed, but more than once you wake up with your blood rushing through your veins and a deep, urgent ache in your stomach.

You’ve lost count of how many times you chase that feeling in the dead of night, the darkness around you allowing you to imagine that hidden face taking you all the way to your peak in your sweat soaked sheets. As you sit in the coffee shop, your face warms as you absentmindedly stir your drink and ponder exactly what your hidden rescuer looked like, until the light from the window dims. You look up and see a body silhouetted against the bright sunlight, looking down at you. A beard covering his cheeks and a beanie hat pulled down over his ears.

“Mind if I join you, love?” A familiar, deep voice asks, and your heart nearly stops as you gawp up at him.

“Please do, Captain,” you smile.

---------------------------------------------------------

Taglist lovelies:

@thriving-n-jiving @iloveslasher @thecubanator2 @bossva @xxladysquishyxx @murder-hobo @aulescev @tiredmetalenthusiast @haurasha @evolutionarry @lunamoonbby @cryingpages @yawning-grave81 @daniblogs164 @rantingraquel @waves-against-a-cliff @letmelickyoureyeballs @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @thatonepupkai @anubisisthebomb @beebeechaos @ladyxtiger @ashy-kit @meepmeepmeep1011111 @cassiecasluciluce @confuseddipshit @mandythemint @ihatethinkingofnames10 @torchbearerkyle @jinxxangel13 @darkangel4121 @cringeycookies @ttsbaby01 @supernaturalstilinski @thesinsoflust @lovifie @hayleybarnesx @katzykat @airyonna15 @hxnneydew @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @callsign-pyro @neoarchipelago @kaoyamamegami @dij-ology @blush-haze @imkumichan

320 notes · View notes

macrolit · 6 months

Text

NYT's Notable Books of 2023

Each year, we pore over thousands of new books, seeking out the best novels, memoirs, biographies, poetry collections, stories and more. Here are the standouts, selected by the staff of The New York Times Book Review.

AFTER SAPPHO by Selby Wynn Schwartz

Inspired by Sappho’s work, Schwartz’s debut novel offers an alternate history of creativity at the turn of the 20th century, one that centers queer women artists, writers and intellectuals who refused to accept society’s boundaries.

ALL THE SINNERS BLEED by S.A. Cosby

In his earlier thrillers, Cosby worked the outlaw side of the crime genre. In his new one — about a Black sheriff in a rural Southern town, searching for a serial killer who tortures Black children — he’s written a crackling good police procedural.

THE BEE STING by Paul Murray

In Murray’s boisterous tragicomic novel, a once wealthy Irish family struggles with both the aftermath of the 2008 financial crash and their own inner demons.

BIOGRAPHY OF X by Catherine Lacey

Lacey rewrites 20th-century U.S. history through the audacious fictional life story of X, a polarizing female performance artist who made her way from the South to New York City’s downtown art scene.

BIRNAM WOOD by Eleanor Catton

In this action-packed novel from a Booker Prize winner, a collective of activist gardeners crosses paths with a billionaire doomsday prepper on land they each want for different purposes.

BLACKOUTS by Justin Torres

This lyrical, genre-defying novel — winner of the 2023 National Book Award — explores what it means to be erased and how to persist after being wiped away.

BRIGHT YOUNG WOMEN by Jessica Knoll

In her third and most assured novel, Knoll shifts readers’ attention away from a notorious serial killer, Ted Bundy, and onto the lives — and deaths — of the women he killed. Perhaps for the first time in fiction, Knoll pooh-poohs Bundy's much ballyhooed intelligence, celebrating the promise and perspicacity of his victims instead.

CHAIN-GANG ALL-STARS by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

This satire — in which prison inmates duel on TV for a chance at freedom — makes readers complicit with the bloodthirsty fans sitting ringside. The fight scenes are so well written they demonstrate how easy it might be to accept a world this sick.

THE COVENANT OF WATER by Abraham Verghese

Verghese’s first novel since “Cutting for Stone” follows generations of a family across 77 years in southwestern India as they contend with political strife and other troubles — capped by a shocking discovery made by the matriarch’s granddaughter, a doctor.

CROOK MANIFESTO by Colson Whitehead

Returning to the world of his novel “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead again uses a crime story to illuminate a singular neighborhood at a tipping point — here, Harlem in the 1970s.

THE DELUGE by Stephen Markley

Markley’s second novel confronts the scale and gravity of climate change, tracking a cadre of scientists and activists from the gathering storm of the Obama years to the super-typhoons of future decades. Immersive and ambitious, the book shows the range of its author’s gifts: polyphonic narration, silken sentences and elaborate world-building.

EASTBOUND by Maylis de Kerangal

In de Kerangal’s brief, lyrical novel, translated by Jessica Moore, a young Russian soldier on a trans-Siberian train decides to desert and turns to a civilian passenger, a Frenchwoman, for help.

EMILY WILDE’S ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF FAERIES by Heather Fawcett

The world-building in this tale of a woman documenting a new kind of faerie is exquisite, and the characters are just as textured and richly drawn. This is the kind of folkloric fantasy that remembers the old, blood-ribboned source material about sacrifices and stolen children, but adds a modern gloss.

ENTER GHOST by Isabella Hammad

In Hammad’s second novel, a British Palestinian actor returns to her hometown in Israel to recover from a breakup and spend time with her family. Instead, she’s talked into joining a staging of “Hamlet” in the West Bank, where she has a political awakening.

FORBIDDEN NOTEBOOK by Alba de Céspedes

A best-selling novelist and prominent anti-Fascist in her native Italy, de Céspedes has lately fallen into unjust obscurity. Translated by Ann Goldstein, this elegant novel from the 1950s tells the story of a married mother, Valeria, whose life is transformed when she begins keeping a secret diary.

THE FRAUD by Zadie Smith

Based on a celebrated 19th-century trial in which the defendant was accused of impersonating a nobleman, Smith’s novel offers a vast panoply of London and the English countryside, and successfully locates the social controversies of an era in a handful of characters.

FROM FROM by Monica Youn

In her fourth book of verse, a svelte, intrepid foray into American racism, Youn turns a knowing eye on society’s love-hate relationship with what it sees as the “other.”

A GUEST IN THE HOUSE by Emily Carroll

After a lonely young woman marries a mild-mannered widower and moves into his home, she begins to wonder how his first wife actually died. This graphic novel alternates between black-and-white and overwhelming colors as it explores the mundane and the horrific.

THE HEAVEN & EARTH GROCERY STORE by James McBride

McBride’s latest, an intimate, big-hearted tale of community, opens with a human skeleton found in a well in the 1970s, and then flashes back to the past, to the ’20s and ’30s, to explore the town’s Black, Jewish and immigrant history.

HELLO BEAUTIFUL by Ann Napolitano

In her radiant fourth novel, Napolitano puts a fresh spin on the classic tale of four sisters and the man who joins their family. Take “Little Women,” move it to modern-day Chicago, add more intrigue, lots of basketball and a different kind of boy next door and you’ve got the bones of this thoroughly original story.

A HISTORY OF BURNING by Janika Oza

This remarkable debut novel tells the story of an extended Indo-Ugandan family that is displaced, settled and displaced again.

HOLLY by Stephen King

The scrappy private detective Holly Gibney (who appeared in “The Outsider” and several other novels) returns, this time taking on a missing-persons case that — in typical King fashion — unfolds into a tale of Dickensian proportions.

A HOUSE FOR ALICE by Diana Evans

This polyphonic novel traces one family’s reckoning after the patriarch dies in a fire, as his widow, a Nigerian immigrant, considers returning to her home country and the entire family re-examines the circumstances of their lives.

THE ILIAD by Homer

Emily Wilson’s propulsive new translation of the “Iliad” is buoyant and expressive; she wants this version to be read aloud, and it would certainly be fun to perform.

INK BLOOD SISTER SCRIBE by Emma Törzs

The sisters in Törzs's delightful debut have been raised to protect a collection of magic books that allow their keepers to do incredible things. Their story accelerates like a fugue, ably conducted to a tender conclusion.

KAIROS by Jenny Erpenbeck

This tale of a torrid, yearslong relationship between a young woman and a much older married man — translated from the German by Michael Hofmann — is both profound and moving.

KANTIKA by Elizabeth Graver

Inspired by the life of Graver’s maternal grandmother, this exquisitely imagined family saga spans cultures and continents as it traces the migrations of a Sephardic Jewish girl from turn-of-the-20th-century Constantinople to Barcelona, Havana and, finally, Queens, N.Y.

LAND OF MILK AND HONEY by C Pam Zhang

Zhang’s lush, keenly intelligent novel follows a chef who’s hired to cook for an “elite research community” in the Italian Alps, in a not-so-distant future where industrial-agricultural experiments in America’s heartland have blanketed the globe in a crop-smothering smog.

LONE WOMEN by Victor LaValle

The year is 1915, and the narrator of LaValle’s horror-tinged western has arrived in Montana to cultivate an unforgiving homestead. She’s looking for a fresh start as a single Black woman in a sparsely populated state, but the locked trunk she has in stow holds a terrifying secret.

MONICA by Daniel Clowes

In Clowes’s luminous new work, the titular character, abandoned by her mother as a child, endures a life of calamities before resolving to learn about her origins and track down her parents.

THE MOST SECRET MEMORY OF MEN by Mohamed Mbougar Sarr

Based on a true story and translated by Lara Vergnaud, Sarr’s novel — about a Senegalese writer brought low by a plagiarism scandal — asks sharp questions about the state of African literature in the West.

THE NEW NATURALS by Gabriel Bump

In Bump’s engrossing new novel, a young Black couple, mourning the loss of their newborn daughter and disillusioned with the world, start a utopian society — but tensions both internal and external soon threaten their dreams.

NORTH WOODS by Daniel Mason

Mason’s novel looks at the occupants of a single house in Massachusetts over several centuries, from colonial times to present day. An apple farmer, an abolitionist, a wealthy manufacturer: The book follows these lives and many others, with detours into natural history and crime reportage.

NOT EVEN THE DEAD by Juan Gómez Bárcena

An ex-conquistador in Spanish-ruled, 16th-century Mexico is asked to hunt down an Indigenous prophet in this novel by a leading writer in Spain, splendidly translated by Katie Whittemore. The epic search stretches across much of the continent and, as the author bends time and history, lasts centuries.

THE NURSERY by Szilvia Molnar

“I used to be a translator and now I am a milk bar.” So begins Molnar’s brilliant novel about a new mother falling apart within the four walls of her apartment.

OUR SHARE OF NIGHT by Mariana Enriquez

This dazzling, epic narrative, translated from the Spanish by Megan McDowell, is a bewitching brew of mystery and myth, peopled by mediums who can summon “the Darkness” for a secret society of wealthy occultists seeking to preserve consciousness after death.

PINEAPPLE STREET by Jenny Jackson

Jackson’s smart, dishy debut novel embeds readers in an upper-crust Brooklyn Heights family — its real estate, its secrets, its just-like-you-and-me problems. Does money buy happiness? “Pineapple Street” asks a better question: Does it buy honesty?

THE REFORMATORY by Tananarive Due

Due’s latest — about a Black boy, Robert, who is wrongfully sentenced to a fictionalized version of Florida’s infamous and brutal Dozier School — is both an incisive examination of the lingering traumas of racism and a gripping, ghost-filled horror novel. “The novel’s extended, layered denouement is so heart-smashingly good, it made me late for work,” Randy Boyagoda wrote in his review. “I couldn’t stop reading.”

THE SAINT OF BRIGHT DOORS by Vajra Chandrasekera

Trained to kill by his mother and able to see demons, the protagonist of Chandrasekera’s stunning and lyrical novel flees his destiny as an assassin and winds up in a politically volatile metropolis.

SAME BED DIFFERENT DREAMS by Ed Park

Double agents, sinister corporations, slasher films, U.F.O.s — Park’s long-awaited second novel is packed to the gills with creative elements that enliven his acerbic, comedic and lyrical odyssey into Korean history and American paranoia.

TAKE WHAT YOU NEED by Idra Novey

This elegant novel resonates with implication beyond the taut contours of its central story line. In Novey’s deft hands, the complex relationship between a young woman and her former stepmother hints at the manifold divisions within America itself.

THIS OTHER EDEN by Paul Harding

In his latest novel, inspired by the true story of a devastating 1912 eviction in Maine that displaced an entire mixed-race fishing community, Harding turns that history into a lyrical tale about the fictional Apple Island on the cusp of destruction.

TOM LAKE by Ann Patchett

Locked down on the family’s northern Michigan cherry orchard, three sisters and their mother, a former actress whose long-ago summer fling went on to become a movie star, reflect on love and regret in Patchett’s quiet and reassuring Chekhovian novel.

THE UNSETTLED by Ayana Mathis

This novel follows three generations across time and place: a young mother trying to create a home for herself and her son in 1980s Philadelphia, and her mother, who is trying to save their Alabama hometown from white supremacists seeking to displace her from her land.

VICTORY CITY by Salman Rushdie

Rushdie’s new novel recounts the long life of Pampa Kampana, who creates an empire from magic seeds in 14th-century India. Her world is one of peace, where men and women are equal and all faiths welcome, but the story Rushdie tells is of a state that forever fails to live up to its ideals.

WE COULD BE SO GOOD by Cat Sebastian

This queer midcentury romance — about reporters who meet at work, become friends, move in together and fall in love — lingers on small, everyday acts like bringing home flowers with the groceries, things that loom large because they’re how we connect with others.

WESTERN LANE by Chetna Maroo

In this polished and disciplined debut novel, an 11-year-old Jain girl in London who has just lost her mother turns her attention to the game of squash — which in Maroo’s graceful telling becomes a way into the girl’s grief.

WITNESS by Jamel Brinkley

Set in Brooklyn, and featuring animal rescue workers, florists, volunteers, ghosts and UPS workers, Brinkley’s new collection meditates on what it means to see and be seen.

Y/N by Esther Yi

In this weird and wondrous novel, a bored young woman in thrall to a boy band buys a one-way ticket to Seoul.

YELLOWFACE by R.F. Kuang

Kuang’s first foray outside of the fantasy genre is a breezy and propulsive tale about a white woman who achieves tremendous literary success by stealing a manuscript from a recently deceased Asian friend and passing it off as her own.

#new york times #100 books #reading list #2023 #books #reading #have you read any of these titles?

242 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 8 months

Text

The Accidental Husband | Johnny Cage x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ okay but here me out...when johnny and all of them are chilling in that bar,,,Skarlet introduces his younger brother (m!reader) Johnny immediately starts flirting with him and m!reader admits that he’s a huge fan of his movies and they both get too drunk and wake up in a random hotel room with wedding rings on bc they got married while blackout drunk 😩 ❞

: ̗̀➛ your sister introduces you to a... friend of hers, although things go a little too well.

: ̗̀➛ heavy drinking/alcohol consumption, swearing, reader is adopted/not a blood relative to Skarlet

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

A long, long time ago, Skarlet had taken pity on a young boy who had no family; he was younger than she was, starving and scared. She wasn't sure what else to do with him, so she took the boy as her own brother; she helped raise him, and although he was never any good at Blood Magik, he showed promise elsewhere.

For years, it was just you and your sister, and when you were a little older, she allowed Liu Kang to introduce you to Kuai Liang; you showed promise within the Lin Kuei where you stayed. Skarlet visited as often as she could, despite the protests of the Grandmaster. It was there that you discovered Johnny Cage's films, and although some of them were absolutely awful, you would watch anything with him in it.

You were a huge fan, but you figured that it would be embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially to your own sister; she would never stop teasing you about it if she ever knew. So you kept it quiet.

You told Kuai Liang, only because he caught you skipping duties to watch one of Cage's new films; he just smiled and shook his head, telling you to crack on as soon as the film ended. Kuai Liang was always good to you like that; calm, reassuring, strong and patient. Gentle.

You looked up to him, and when you accidentally called him Uncle, he never held it against you or told your sister; but Kuai Liang was the closest thing you ever had to a father, and although he never treated you any differently to the other Lin Kuei, he was always kind.

He even allowed you to have "extra training" with his brother Tomas, which merely meant an excuse to watch Johnny Cage's films for a few hours together.

When you were trained enough to go out on your own, nearly halfway through your twenties, Skarlet picked you up. She took you to the nearest city, and as she was walking with you, she couldn't help but to laugh smugly to herself.

You were a little apprehensive, and couldn't understand why she wore a long, flowing red and black dress instead of her usual armour. It seemed a bit impractical, even if you were wearing a black hoodie and pale grey jogging bottoms that had been given to you by Tomas.

"I've got someone to introduce you to," she told you with a sly smile.

You looked at her with a raised brow. "Please tell me it's not Erron. You know I told him I wasn't interested."

"No," Skarlet shook her head. "It's someone you've never met before, and- in here."

You followed her into a nice restaurant, a little apprehensive; your sister could scheme and could be sly. She taught you how to do so yourself, but you knew that you could always trust her and that, if she had someone who she wanted you to meet, then you could probably trust them.

So you shrugged, and when she brought you to a quieter table, you didn't really question much. She ordered a glass of red wine while you got yourself an energy drink with a shot of vodka. Idle conversation with your sister followed until the drinks arrived, but just as you were about to take your first swig, you nearly choked on nothing.

"Is that-"

"Johnny Cage," Skarlet smiled, standing up and shaking his head. "You showed up."

Johnny nodded. "Well, yeah, Kuai Liang told me it was important - might be useful for my next film and-"

"Holy. Shit."

He looked at you, taking note of your appearance, and grinned. "Hello, handsome."

"Hi," you said quietly, feeling all too nervous. "I, uhm… hi."

Johnny pushed past your sister to sit next to you, his arm stretched out across the back of your chair. "I'm Johnny."

"I, I'm- I know," you said softly, hoping you didn't look too much like a deer in the headlights. He was even more handsome up close.

"He's a big fan," Skarlet told him. "Johnny, meet my brother."

Johnny laughed softly, not taking his attention from you. "Big fan?"

You nodded. Words had left you, and you weren't sure if you wanted them back or not. He was so pretty with his big brown eyes and his silly grin. You swallowed thickly, laughing nervously. "Sorry…"

"Oh, don't be," he shook his head. "If I knew all my fans were this good looking, I think I'd have it written into my contract that my press tours should be longer."

You laughed softly. "Thank you…"

Skarlet rolled her eyes, knowing her job had been done; she finished her glass of wine, and walked away, making sure to give the staff a tip before she left properly.

Johnny looked you up and down shamelessly. "Y'know, you've got leading man looks - have you ever thought about acting?"

You shook your head, stuttering nervously. "Uh, no…"

"You should," he mused. "You could really make it big, looking like that… Kuai Liang trained you, right?"

You nodded. "And Tomas."

"So he's handsome and he can fight," Johnny grinned. "Let me guess, you can cook and clean, too?"

"Yu-yeah."

"The full package," he put his hand on your shoulder. "How are you not married?"

You shrugged. "Just not something I ever, uhm… it's just not, uhm…"

"Don't be nervous," Johnny said quietly, moving to sit a little closer. "I know I'm a big time, handsome, movie star - but you're in safe hands with me… although… it's probably me who's in safe hands with you, right?"

You laughed softly, and Johnny felt his head spin a little at the sound; you knocked back your shot of vodka, hoping it would give you some confidence. "I, uhm…I need a drink."

"It's on me," Johnny told you, flagging down the waiter and getting six shots. The first round. "Handsome guy like you… it's only right I should buy your drinks."

You felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest; Johnny Cage, a man you had been a fan of for who knew how many years, thought you were handsome. Fuck. You knew that the night would end somewhere wonderful. You didn't really want it to end.

There was one round, then another, and another, and you lost track after you started kissing Johnny in the alleyway after you had gone out for a cigarette; you weren't really sure what happened after that, but when you woke up, you were confused.

It was clearly a hotel room given the pristine painted walls and the lack of dust, the duvet around your waist was white and soft, yet a little stale. There was someone in the bed next to you, and when you gently pulled back the duvet, you wanted to scream.

Johnny Cage was in your bed. Or you were in his. Either way.

He turned over, opening one eye as he grinned.

"Hello, handsome."

"Johnny Cage is in my bed," you breathed out, staring at him.

"Mild correction, sweetheart," he groaned, sitting upright and stretching a little. "You're in my bed."

He still had his trousers on from the previous night. You were still fully clothed. You sighed a little with relief. "I'm… I'm in your bed?"

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how we got here, I can't remember anything after kissing you but… y'know, I'm not one to kick a guy so handsome out."

You laughed softly, flopping down onto your back and covering your face with your hands as you grinned; but that's when you noticed it. The gold band on your ring finger. "Johnny?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I think something did happen last night," you murmured. "I'm wearing a ring…"

Johnny looked at his own ring finger, and barked out a laugh when he saw. "So am I."

"Well, fuck."

"Hey, this might not be all that bad," he told you, pulling your hands away from your face and straddling your waist. "At least it gives me a chance to know my biggest fan."

Your hands went to his waist by instinct as you bit down on the inside of your bottom lip. "You… you mean that?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded, leaning over and letting his arms rest on the mattress either side of your head. "What?"

"Nothing, I… just…" you shrugged. "I dunno…"

"C'mere," Johnny whispered, gently and softly kissing you. He smiled when you buried your hands in his soft brown hair, getting his legs between yours as he nipped at your bottom lip softly. "What'd you say, huh? Me and you, husbands, and if it doesn't work out, I'll make sure you're taken care of - money, a house, whatever you want, baby."

You nodded. "Like dating?"

"With extra steps."

"Alright," you agreed with a soft laugh. "I… it's not what Kuai Liang would've wanted for me, but… fuck it. Uncle Liang can fuck himself."

"Perfect," Johnny grinned, trailing his hand down to your waist. "Do you want any breakfast, baby?"

"Yeah, I could eat," you nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm your husband," he teased softly. "It's my job to look after you."

248 notes · View notes

currently-tired · 3 months

Text

Tgs, but Jekyll doesn’t know he’s Hyde

Aka Jekyll is a alchemical blackout drunk.

Based off of this post; https://www.tumblr.com/ja9-animations/741619471611985920/tgs-but-all-the-lodgers-know-that-jekyll-and-hyde

@ja9-animations

“Are you sure I cannot meet Hyde?”

Lavender paled. “No, you can’t!” She burst out quickly, with wide open eyes.

Bird elbowed her sharply.

“Erm, ‘m sorry Jekyll, but you can’t. We don’t know when ‘ey show up, and-“ He began, but soon stalled, clearly unsure of what to say.

Archer picked up after him.

“They’re such a strange person. Trust me, you’ll know them if you see them. But we can’t make them appear on command.”

“Is he a sodomite? I’ve never heard of a singular person using they instead of he…” Jekyll asked softly, with a wrinkled brow.

Lavender stuttered over her response. Bird coughed, and Archer twitched nervously.

Jekyll’s eyes opened widely and he paled almost as white as a sheet; as if he never meant to say that comment aloud…

“That was profoundly impolite, and none of my business. I apologize.” Jekyll looked numb as he said these words. Same light voice as before when he had been asking about Hyde, but an uncharacteristically pinched expression on his face.

Unseen to the group of lodgers, his hands were fidgeting at his sides.

“And if he is?” Archer questioned, with a (unconvincing) impression of lightness on his face

A bitter smile instantly spread across Jekyll’s face. “As much as London’s high class officially has a problem with sodomites, I can assure you that to most, unofficially they do not…”

“Hypocrites!-” Henry hissed angrily, just quietly enough not to be heard.

Damned hypocrites who went to the [unofficial] sodomite’s bar, and fucked men just like the rest of them! It made them want to growl, and-

[How did he even know this?!- Jekyll hadn’t been to those sorts of places since university; he had seen gentlemen (in training) there, yes…

But not the ones that came to their mind. Hazy faces they he somehow recognized, memories distorted as if seeing them through a thickly frosted glass…

Jekyll packed the thoughts down to inspect later, in the quiet of their office. Preferably with a glass or three of wine…]

He continued out loud, in a louder voice.

“To me personally, it is not a problem at all. I don’t see the obsession over policing others, especially for things they cannot control. Alas, this is the society we exist in…” Henry said bitterly, trailing off with a deep frown.

Lavender gaped at him, absolutely shocked. (Henry didn’t notice, as he was too busy glaring a hole through the wood flooring…)

As soon as she recovered her composure, she began to speak.

“Okay then!…” Lavender replied quickly, trying to draw attention away from the topic.

She began talking about her newest studies into the void, and her ideas on its composition. Jekyll noticed the clear diversion, but followed along with it, distantly replying to her comments and ideas. [What was that mental slip of sorts earlier? It sounded like him. It was his own voice!- But somehow not… The thoughts were familiar; sourced from that deep seated anger he tried oh so desperately to suppress. But why were those memories so distant and hazy? How did he even have them in the first place?!-]

Archer then began to talk about his newest type of plant. A crawling vine that he said Hyde brought him from blackfog.

At the passing mention of Hyde, Bird stomped Archers foot loudly. Archer hissed in pain, and quickly moved on from the topic. (But not before flicking Bird back harshly, with his mechanical arm.)

At that point Jekyll had seen enough. Clearly whoever Hyde was, he was not going to find out from these lodgers. For whatever reason they were completely dead set on not telling him a single thing about Hyde!

The other lodgers were similar. The ones more skilled with social interaction brushed off his questions or changed topics skillfully. (It would’ve fooled most other people. But not Jekyll. That was Henry’s wheelhouse, and he recognized the exact same tactics that he himself used to deflect criticisms against the ‘mad’ scientists.)

The less experienced ones told him off more frankly, or refused the question.

Griffin flat out told him to fuck off. (Ouch! Especially since he was the one funding his experiments! Jekyll didn’t expect ass kissing from anyone, but a little bit of tact went a long way!…)

To make things even worse, Hastie was absolutely clueless, and no help at all. He told him rumors he had heard, but nothing else. (Which was something, he supposed. But Jekyll himself knew how greatly exaggerated rumors in that city were, based on what they said about him personally...)

The other person he’d usually ask, and trust to tell him the complete and utter truth was Rachel. She was less clueless; Henry knew that for sure… But she also refused to tell him a thing about Edward!

It was so unusual!-

Henry wanted to stay a little longer to try to pry just a bit more. He should know who was frequenting his own building, right?

But Jekyll knew he wouldn’t get anything voluntary. And accidental confessions were always full of annoyingly large holes that people usually never filled until they were ready to.

So Jekyll slipped away back to his office, citing the finances, with a small smile on his face. (Even if he was feeling anything but, the smile was always plastered on his face. It had to remain there, convincing and shiny…)

He slid into his chair, and instead of doing accounting, promptly drank down an entire glass of wine like a shot.

As he swirled around his second drink in his glass, he thought over what he knew about Edward Hyde.

Hyde was shorter than most people at the society, even Lavender. That would put him at around 4’9, perhaps shorter. Hyde had blonde hair with brown roots. They(?) fought viciously, and had a horrible reputation that made its way up to Lanyon in several ways somehow. (Friend of a friend’s cousin for one certain incident? Hell if Henry knew…)

They liked the color green, carried a cane that was rumored to have a long knife inside, and had a Scottish accent. (To what intensity, Henry did not know.)

And up until that day, that was all Henry knew.

His recently gained knowledge was that they [Henry did not understand that pronoun. Both its significance, and what it was even used for. But for whatever reason, Hyde was referred to by it...] were (was?) some sort of sodomite.

That was mildly unhelpful though.

The use of sodomite was broad enough to be classifying, but far too broad to really be helpful, which annoyed Henry.

The term sodomite could refer to the men who dressed up as women, the ‘men’ who were actually women, men who enjoyed the company of other men, those who engaged in bestiality, (Henry desperately hoped that Hyde did not engage in that…) and/or a million other things deemed evil or sinful by society.

Unmentionable things, that did not even deserve a term attached to them, other than the label of S. I. N…

And so, Henry was at a loss.

He was unhappy about his pitiful level of knowledge on the man who frequented the society. (He had labored far too hard, worked far too much for it all to be torn down by some unknown that he could never account for!) However, there wasn’t much he could do, barring searching London’s underworld himself. (And the ‘Good Doctor’ could not do that. Besides, even then he may not see Hyde after all...)

And so he resigned himself to filling out paperwork, wondering about that strange person in between scratches of his pen.

At the chime of nine in the night, Henry put down his pen, capped his ink, collected his papers into a neatly organized pile, and got up and stretched with a groan, stiff bones creaking.

He went into a certain cabinet, and pulled out a pre measured quantity of salt and a beaker.

Then combined a couple of substances together that formed into a noxious looking bright potion, calmly watching the viscous blue green solution swirl around the flask, and wispy smoke pouring off of it and into his face, as if it was perfectly normal.

And to Jekyll, he supposed it was.

Henry had been taking the serum for years, off and on throughout the week.

He never remembered what happened during or after they took it, except for an almost addictive deep seated contentment flowing through his veins and a peace he could find from nothing else flowing through him for hours after he came back in the morning.

The potion must’ve done something, especially with the great change it inspired in him during his darkest moments… Perhaps split off the evil? Maybe it had been separated from him entirely, or shoved off to the side to languish.

Perhaps he even vanquished it… [But why then, was he still sinful, and full of desires he knew he couldn’t have? Why did he still have a short temper, and an even sharper tongue that he had to choke down almost daily?]

Those things were not terribly good. But they were not terribly evil either.

And so, that led him to believe that he didn’t actually separate good from evil…

But whatever truly had happened, Jekyll did not know. (Or care enough to investigate, to be fully honest.)

It helped him suppress those pesky desires that plagued his mind like nothing else in his life had before. Not copious amounts of wine, or prayer and church, or hobbies he dumped after a week from sheer inability of effort, or self harm.

It kept him sane, and smiling perfectly, with a straight back and a distant but somehow still friendly posture that made young gentlemen weep.

And so, he kept drinking it, despite the total blackouts.

…A little bit of indulgence in the unknown would not damage him too much, right?

And so, without further pretense, Jekyll drank the bitter sulphorous solution, choking a bit. (He had never fully gotten used to the syrupy and somehow still liquid texture, even four years later…)

Within thirty seconds, like clockwork, they began to transform into… something else. [Exactly what it was, he had never found out…]

Bones began to move into different places, and crack open with a horrific sound. Other changes occurred, that he was too far gone to even attempt to understand what was happening. And like always, thankfully, after the pain became too great, Jekyll faded away.

And twenty minutes later Edward Hyde emerged from their own office, fully dressed.

Hyde snickered loudly at their own incompetence. Of course that potion didn’t split them into two entities! Good and evil were not distinct things! They were commingled in each man’s personality forever; from birth to death.

No fully evil entity existed. No fully good entity existed. (And it would always be that way, for all of eternity!)

However, Jekyll never remembered their second life as Hyde.

He didn’t know the revelations they’d had, both about the world, and about themself.

He didn’t know the way they laughed; freely and insanely for the first damn time in their entire life! Able to express all they were forced to repress.

He didn’t know their face.

Their absolute delight and wonder, every single time they ran a hand over their face, and felt facial hair! (Something that they were never lucky enough to find a potion to fix in the past...)

The all consuming joy that overcame him even from first look, when he realized that finally, the evil streak that they had felt inside of them their entire life shone through. Laughing wildly at those who shuddered at the sight of their face, as if subconsciously.

The way people stepped away, and were scared. Scared for once, instead of far too friendly and comfortable with someone who was practically a stranger. [“You have an honest face!” An old noblewoman at a party crooned, patting their head, after saying something far too revealing. Jekyll was briefly tempted to bite her hand. Scream at her to fuck off! Grab her hand firmly, and throw it off of his head.

But the smile stayed firmly on his face and he excused himself politely but firmly to go speak [bitch] to Hastie again. Others, who he revealed nothing to, did not trust, or did not like much, but had spoken to for months, revealed deeply intimate things to him, some practically sobbing on his shoulder.

(That damned earnest face!-)

Jekyll tried to comfort them. He disliked others being sad. He knew just how hard that hit, and how deeply it hurt.

But in the end, it just ended up being just another secret to lock away in his mind forever. One more thing to pack away, and try not to think about the next time he saw them…]

Henry didn’t know their unrelentless joy for an infinite amount of reasons. (The world was beautiful! The moon gleaming and hanging low in the sky, the smog framing the air like a gorgeous painting. The biting chill of the air stinging their reddened cheeks, and the freshness of it. Even the things he usually disliked took on a new tinge of enjoyment!)

The joy they felt at having the freedom to be and do what they wanted.

(Who gave a fuck about who or what they used to be? Who they decided to fuck? Everyone was far too busy with their own business and problems for that. It was a welcome change from bored busybodies who had nothing better to do than to gossip…)

That complete and utter anonymity they enjoyed at first, and a delightful infamy later that made them laugh, and laugh, and laugh!-

But what he did know, is that he had holes in his memory after he took the potion. He knew the way he felt contented in the morning.

(Not flooded with pleasure like he was as Hyde. More like the echoes of it. Filtered through layers of flesh and bone, long blonde hair returned to short brown, blue-green dripping tears, and whatever the mind was comprised of.)

The way he was just slightly sore; but in a pleasant way he delighted in, even without knowing the source.

And most importantly, the fact that his strict facade became easier to maintain. As if a small vent had been slit on something that was about to burst.

He reaped some of the benefits of the potion, without even knowing what it did.

He was like a blackout drunkard. Despite having no clue what happened, he returned to his vice night after night.

Edward Hyde was Henry Jekyll. (Through and through, with every single one of his memories and experiences belonging to them.)

But Henry Jekyll was somehow not Edward Hyde. (How could he be, with only the tiniest hint of their memories and experiences? Only the slightest peak from behind an iron mental curtain?…)

Hyde was Jekyll in the way a Phoenix was ashes. The pieces of what he used to be and was just hours ago, reborn again into something completely different. (Glorious to them. Perhaps more of an annoyance at best to others. Several slurs at worst. That made it even better! Jekyll tried to be the best person he could be. Tried to do right by everyone, in the best way that he could.

But after spending a whole day being frustrated, and suppressing violence even against the stupidest inconveniences, they adored inconveniencing others! Making them feel at least the tiniest bit as shit as he had, just hours earlier. [The fact that misery truly does love company, was something that Hyde had soon found out…])

And Jekyll? He was completely ignorant and unknowing. Occasionally, Hyde wondered if this all would’ve been easier if it wasn’t so…

[That (beloved? damned? incredible? painful?) potion flicked that invisible mental switch, that let all of the memories of their life as Hyde rush back to them. How? Why? Why not let them keep these memories as Jekyll? Why must he have been ignorant? Confused about their own actions, that he didn’t know were theirs?]

How much of a person’s identity relied on their memories?

[Jekyll and Hyde were effectively two entirely different people, despite living the exact same life at times. At most times, actually… How much did their memories, or the lack of them affect that?]

How much of Hyde’s identity was completely new, or something spurred by their new mindset but already there, and how much was old; some sort of leftovers from Jekyll?

How much of it was preexisting, but mutated drastically until it truly fit them?

Was it a combination of all? What about a-

Hyde stopped themself.

These were thoughts for being piss ass drunk, rambling to some faceless stranger, (Or more safely, and thus commonly a lodger if any of them were so inclined.)

Not thoughts for being sober…

And so, Hyde quickly did their rounds around the society.

Nothing was on fire so far.

All plants were under control, and certain labs were slightly cleaner than usual! What a pleasant surprise!

Griffin’s cat got loose again, and he was bitching about it. At a flat annoyed glare from Hyde, he shut up instantly, and said he’d find it.

“You’d better...” Hyde snapped annoyedly.

(That thing escaped practically every other day! And Edward was not particularly keen on it, especially after it clawed up both of their arms and bit them, leaving them bloody and pissed, pouring antiseptic down their arms..)

Doddle was asleep, but all of his materials were neatly put up; both flours and baking supplies, and chemicals and more alchemical components, neatly shelved from first look. Nothing smelt burnt when Hyde peaked their head through the doorframe, so they let it be and moved on.

Ito was requesting some more lab equipment. Hyde told her to write it down and slide it under their door.

Cantilupe was more than a little annoyed at surplus of invisible animals nosing around the society and getting into her and Lavender’s research and skeletons. The rodents in particular were a large issue, as they’d gnaw on anything even remotely close to the ground. Again, Hyde told her to write it down, making sure that she stressed the fact that the rats harmed her and Lavender’s research, and said they’d deal with it in the morning.

(…Maybe not them in particular, but Jekyll would.)

Hyde finished up their rounds, and paused to think…

Okay, Good! Everything was calm in the society! No situations, no questions, and no issues. That meant Hyde was free to leave, and get on with their night.

But before Hyde could slip out the back door of the society, they were tapped on the shoulder.

They spun around extra dramatically, and saw Archer, Bird, and Lavender gathered next to each other in a group, looking nervous. They talked to each other quietly, nodding, or shaking their heads.

Oh come on!

Hyde didn’t do any of that ‘waiting around for people to be ready’ bullshit! They had better things to be doing than standing there, still and waiting!-

“Spit it out.” Hyde snapped more than said at them shortly, with a hiss. An externally bored expression, with a tapping foot.

(Internally, their panic mounted. They looked so stressed! Oh God, they hoped something didn’t happen! Everything had been so calm and good just five minutes prior!)

Archer poked Bird and said something quietly to him that Edward couldn’t hear. Finally, Bird groaned loudly, but spoke.

“Jekyll ‘as asking about ya again.” Bird said, with an awkward sort of shift to his body.

Hyde’s panic deflated instantly, with a relieved outtake of breath.

Then after a moment, they rolled their eyes. Was that seriously all?! They were so stressed about that tiny little thing? (To be fully honest, it didn’t concern them at all...)

Jekyll didn’t remember or know Hyde, so he was a completely unknown variable. And as Jekyll, they did not like anything to be unknown. (Hyde understood it, they supposed. Unknown things could lead to disaster, and in their past they had frequently. But as Hyde, they had taken to enjoying those surprises. Something unknown meant an opportunity to work out a new strategy on the spot, which was always entertaining, even if they lost and got their teeth kicked in. They took it as an opportunity to innovate, and be clever. Hyde took it as fun, not a chore.

Unlike Jekyll, they did not view it as random error, or an unexpected variable they couldn’t control in an experiment, to exaggerate his thinking…)

They remembered asking that question a couple hours before well enough. The flood of confusion in their (his, at that moment) mind.

He was stressed about the unknown man that all the lodgers consistently lied to him about so staunchly, refusing to give up even singular crumbs.

Well, Hyde was touched by the concern and dedication the lodgers had for them! The loyalty!

…But they had to admit they were getting tired of this all.

Hyde was just about to write a letter to himself! This was getting too far out of hand!… [Why the fuck were they (was he?) so stressed about themself? Henry’s stress was their stress! And that same stress he felt at that time affected them when they were like this too!]

(It hurt Edward’s head when they thought about it for too long...)

So maybe it was time to switch up their strategy. The old one of asking the lodgers not to tell Jekyll about his second life he didn’t know about in the hopes of getting himself to keep taking the potion without any hesitation was getting headache inducing.

(And Edward was getting sick and tired of additional headaches…)

“I see. And what’d he say?” They asked, acting as if they did not remember a thing.

…Hyde may have ‘forgotten’ to discourage and maybe even mildly perpetuated a perhaps… ‘Morally incorrect’ idea about the nature of their relationship with Jekyll to the lodgers…

[It was for a decent reason, they swore!..]

The lodgers all had these preconceived notions about what Hyde was to Jekyll. That they were the ghost lurking in the back of Jekyll’s saintly [HA!-] mind.

Some sort of demon that had stalked Jekyll for his entire life, finally let loose with chemical interference. (Correct general idea… It was wildly off track though.)

Hyde thought these assumptions were mostly because they couldn’t believe that Jekyll would ever act this way by himself. (Or, of his own accord.) Because he was a gentleman, cream of the crop. Elegant, and perfect. Not sinful, or sexual, or perverse in any way at all… [Well, if only they knew!]

Edward never corrected them. That assumption was incredibly helpful to both of their lives.

They didn’t have to spend hours trying to verbalize, and then explain the subtleties of their relationship with themself.

This also meant that they viewed Edward and Henry separately, treating them entirely differently. (Which was good. They would have a heart attack as Henry if all the lodgers shifted from their previously static and predictable behavior, to a close friendly relationship. [Something that he did not remember forming.] That wild shift would make him paranoid, and them even more stressed.)

And they were already stressed enough in both states of mind.

…And did they really deserve the truth anyway?

Hyde hadn’t even meant to reveal themself!

Ito had cracked the door open with a gentle knock one night, to ask for advice with a reaction involving the feathers of a Phoenix.

Having the door open unexpectedly let their pained mid transformation screams escape into the society; shrill and warping wildly from the ongoing change from Jekyll’s deep vocal cords to Hyde’s high, almost whiny voice.

The soundproofing in their office had became entirely useless, with that one simple action.

[FUCK! He should’ve remembered to lock the damned door! He screamed at themself afterwards, as soon as they gained awareness.]

The entire society (barring Rachel, who was visiting her brother) ran up to the room. [To watch what had happened and take notes? To help? Hyde did not know.] But whatever reason they had came for, the result was the same. They all witnessed the tail end of their transformation.

Hyde shook on the ground, and panted with the aftershocks of the transformation; unwanted thoughts that stressed them screaming in their ear at the buzzing of unexpected voices, and the air from the wide open door hitting their scalp.

[They shouldn’t be here. I’m damned. They’ll report me for insanity. The asylum. Bethlam! I’ll rot. Never see the moon, the rising of the sun. They’ll kill me. Never drink another glass of wine. Get railed again. I won’t survive. Ever see Lanyon again. Kiss his face. Beg him for forgiveness for my uncaring facade.

I’ll die alone and presumed insane!- I’ll be remembered for something I’m not! My grave will not be my own! Who will take care of Zosi? I’ll be tortured for hours on end, in the name of ‘medicine.’ I’ll die!-

They went on and on and on, in a hysterical loop, as they shook on the ground.]

As they were breaking down, Ito told them all what she had just seen, with a shaking wavering voice, and a shocked hunch to her posture.

Hyde heard her and paled, staring ahead with wide open eyes that were swirling that same green-blue color as that godforsaken potion, and a wild pant, heart racing so hard it felt like they had just ran an entire marathon, at the calls of their usual name, and not the name of the body they were currently inhabiting.

And slowly, with over a dozen stares aimed at them that felt weightier than a massive boulder on each shoulder, they began a bare bones explanation with a shaking voice and fully Scottish accent.

(So truly, it was entirely their faults for intruding in their office! They did NOT want that revealed! Jekyll had the right to lie to them!)

[Right?]

Bird answered, much calmer at Hyde’s uncaring reaction. (Completely unaware of their inner turmoil. Perhaps they were still good at hiding it…)

“He asked if you were a sodomite.” He replied.

Hyde’s eyes snapped to his face, pretending to have been paying rapt attention the entire time.

“I see. Then what?” Hyde asked back, with a slight tilt of their head.

“He said he supported sodomy, in a roundabout way.” Lavender chimed in.

“I never would’ve pegged him to be that sort of person.” She frowned in thought, humming quietly.

(Well, he certainly was…)

“Well, I’m sure Jekyll subscribes to the art of desiring both men and women” Hyde ventured, commenting lightly.

Archer laughed out loudly!

“Jekyll can’t be bent! He’s so gentlemanly and regal!“ He said incredulously, choking on laughter as he spoke

Hyde cackled out loud.

They intimately knew how that meant dogshit! Some of the most celebrated men (some even holy!) frequented the exact same bars they did, to find other ‘bent’ people.

They had even fucked a couple of them, when they were bored enough and curious. They were far too normal to hold Hyde’s interest for long, however, so they soon left them alone to their daily dose of sin.

Still, Hyde catalogued this quietly in the back of their mind.

“You’d be surprised.” They murmured, staring straight ahead at the wall, spacing out a little bit. (Sometimes they wished being gentlemanly really did mean they were normal! It would’ve made their entire life so much easier!..)

Hyde soon snapped out of it at Bird’s awkward cough.

“Anything else you’d like from me? Leader duties, or otherwise.” Edward offered, fingers drumming against their thigh.

“No.” They all replied, practically at the same time, with a shake of her head (Lavender) a tilted head (Archer) and a blink (Bird).

Satisfied with these responses, Hyde made a slight movement towards the door, telegraphing it to be as obvious as possible.

An easy non verbal way of saying they were getting tired of talking. Time was ticking, and night was bleeding away! They didn’t have forever!

At this, Archer promptly stepped forward with a friendly grin and offered a handshake that Edward took immediately, shaking his hand firmly and wildly, arm swinging. They smiled widely as Archer shook back forcefully, pushing their smaller frame around.

This turned into a friendly hug. Hyde laughed joyfully from inside of his arms, and squeezed him tightly.

Archer took a step back.

“I may meet you later, depending on how this experiment goes.” He said with that same happy smile.

(Hyde liked Archer. A nice friend, who was fun to go drinking with.)

“This the one with those magic vines I got you?”

Archer nodded.

“That’s fine.” Hyde replied lightly.

“Ask around when or if you’re ready. I’m sure you’ll find where I’ve gone...” They said, with a slightly sinister laugh, full of joy.

(Christ, they loved being Hyde.)

Archer nodded and rushed away as quickly as possible, with stumbling feet, presumably to prevent the plant from growing all over the lab. (The vendor did say it had a bad tendency to grow uncontrollably after it had been watered sufficiently.)

What a shame. Their room actually looked organized, for once. (Mostly clean floors, that weren’t flooded with clock pieces, dirt, and leaves!)

To Lavender and Bird, Hyde bowed deeply and thanked them for their concern. They told them that they didn’t mind Jekyll knowing more about them anymore, and asked them to please inform the others of that shift in preference.

[This could either go really well- acclimating Jekyll to the idea of Hyde, and eventually the truth, or horribly- make Jekyll hate themself. Only time would tell, they supposed…]

Lavender and Bird nodded, and went back to whatever it was they were doing before they came to speak with Hyde, walking away.

How would Jekyll react to that idea? Knowing all they knew at that point in time, they couldn’t really judge his own reaction properly. Would he-

Oh! Forget about it!-

That was a worry for tomorrow. (Or whatever night this frame of mind was released on next.) They had things they preferred to do tonight.

So finally, they slipped outside with a smile so wide that it hurt their face, and a folk song from their childhood on their tongue, that they whistled gleefully.

How could they be stressed? Worried or sad? The world was gorgeous! The people, and the things inside of it were too!

And at that very moment in time they were Edward Hyde! Free, and unrestrained!

How could they be depressed, with pleasure singing through their thoughts and mind, and an infinite pulse of energy just underneath their skin?

With the moon shining above them, delicately floating lanterns gleaming, and the smell of rain in the air, how could negativity overwhelm them?

How could they be anything but overjoyed when London, with all its good and evil, wrong and right, moral and immoral awaited them with the widest of open arms!

#honk shoo posting #the glass scientists #tgs jekyll #tgs hyde #jekyll and hyde #I worked hard on this guys #Jekyll and Hyde are the same person #personally not a fan of the personality split thing #headcannons galore!#hoorah

69 notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 5 months

Text

I Carry A Darkness ~ Part 21

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji X Robin

This is part 21 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Word Count: 4255

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 11 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

Summary: Your crew leaves their home behind, and you hunt for your missing lover. Can your family come together as chaos wracks the city?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Cigarettes, They're Gross, Don't Smoke, Smut, ANGST, Relationship Drama, Emotional Hurt/No Comfort, Mild Violence, Polyamory, Pet Names, Vaginal Fingering, Porn with Feelings

A/N: !!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7 arc. Heeeyy, I hope you like DRAMA. And possibly crying. But you can have a tiny bit of sweetness, and a lil smut at the end, as a treat 💜

Extra A/N: We will get to see more of reader's weapons in this chapter, so just below the cut I've included a description, and reference photos and videos. Feel free to skip if you're not interested, I just love these weapons so much. I've also added this description to the We've All Got Needs Masterlist in case you want to check it out later.

Modified Tonfa ~ Reader's Weapons

Usopp designed these weapons based of off the reader's description of her favorite weapon to watch students practice with when she would pass a martial art's studio on her way to and from school. Luckily Zoro was forced to practice with weapons besides swords, and his stubbornness to be the best meant that he is skilled enough to train the Reader with this technique (at least up to a point).

Typically tonfa are made of wood, but her weapons are made of metal, and they are modified so that poison darts can be released from a distance, as well as poisoned metal spikes like thorns can be used in defensive positions.

The Reader utilizes her knowledge as a botanist to locate and use poisonous plants for these weapons.

One is dark purple and is called Blackout Tonfa, whose poison causes enemies to fall unconscious. The other is bright green and is called Daydream Tonfa. Its poison causes foes to hallucinate.

I Really Like This Short Competition Demo

Super Short But Awesome Tonfa Technique Demo

Patricia Ja Lee Tonfa Fight

I Carry A Darkness ~ Part 21

There was no way to pack up everything. You had to choose which supplies would be the most difficult to replace. Your plants, seeds, herbs, and tinctures, you wrapped everything you could fit as carefully as you could, using your clothes to wrap the glass items so you could fit more.

Everyone was frantic, bouts of crying kept bubbling up while the crew prepared to leave their home behind.

You gripped your practice tonfa, strapping them to the belt Usopp had made for you.

Usopp…

His bloody, rage filled face, and his stinging words haunted you.

‘You don’t want weak people on your crew do you?’

Clenching your jaw, you were determined to find Robin before you let yourself fall to pieces.

I need to be stronger.

You crept through the hallway, the crew all lost in their own packing to notice.

Holding your breath, you snuck into Usopp's quarters, guilt riding you.

Luckily he hadn’t hidden the box. Zoro had made him promise not to let you have the modified tonfa outside of practice.

It’s not his decision.

You grabbed the two tonfa, one dark purple and the other bright green, tears welling in your eyes. Memories of all the time spent with Usopp, how hard he’d worked to make the incredible weapons, how excited he always was when you’d improve your skills.

Biting your lip, you left a piece of paper in the box.

‘Thank you.’

You had hidden Usopp’s gifts in your luggage, struggling to make them fit. Chopper was kind enough to use his human form to carry your luggage along with his medical supplies and books.

Finding an inn was easy, but you felt blank as you followed along. Zoro led you into a room, closing the door, and you realized he’d set you up with a room alone together. You hadn’t noticed while they were paying, your eyes stuck on the floor.

He helped you set down the small bags you’d been carrying, and tried to pull you toward the bed.

You wouldn’t budge.

“We need to find Robin.”

Zoro looked at the ground, taking a breath before gripping your shoulders.

“She’s strong, Needy, she’ll be okay. We’ll look for her in the morning.”

“She wasn’t okay when the admiral came. We couldn’t protect her.”

“Needy, we can’t help her if we don’t take care of ourselves.”

His tone was driving you fucking crazy. How calm he’d been through all the pain today, as if it didn’t affect him at all. His words felt condescending, as if you were a child, someone useless who couldn’t help.

“How would you feel if it was me out there? What if I was missing?”

You pulled back from his grasp, hands starting to gesture with your words as heat bubbled in you.

“That’s different.”

“How, Zoro? She’s part of this crew too.”

He stepped toward you, his mouth opening, then closing without a word.

“Why is it different, Zoro? Is it because you’re fucking me, or because I’m weak?”

“Whoa, Needy,” he breathed, eyes going wide as he reached for you again.

But you walked away, turning back to look at him while your arms shook, and your voice pitched higher.

“No, Zoro. You don’t understand how I feel right now. I can’t fucking shut down my feelings like you can.”

Zoro’s face went from concern to confusion, his brows furrowing as he crossed his arms.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Do you even care about Robin and Usopp,” you questioned, voice raising, shaking with anger. You felt out of control, unable to stop the poison flinging from you.

“Do you even care about me? Or are fucking and fighting the only things you know how to do?”

You watched Zoro’s jaw clench, his breathing shift, and you recognized his anger. He hadn’t shown it in a while, but you remembered how he looked when he was pushed over the edge.

You’d just never pushed him like this.

“Isn’t that why you’re with me, Needy? So I can make you strong, and fuck you into the ground? Isn’t that all you want from me?”

His voice was low and dangerous, and you wanted to scream at him. You almost did. Your voice was still raised though, your arms pointing at him, pleading and accusing.

“I want you, Zoro! I want the real you, who’s funny, who’s caring, who’s fucking loyal-”

“Ha, you’re one to talk.”

The bitter edge in his voice shot you through with nausea.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck, I don’t like this, Needy,” he panted shaking his arms at his sides as he started to pace back and forth.

“I don’t fucking like it either, Zoro. Would you give up on me so easily?”

He spun, coming to face you. Not too close, but his eyes were heavy as they bore into yours.

“I would never give up on you.”

You swallowed down the heat in your throat, fighting tears as you crossed your arms.

“I’m going to look for her.”

With a sigh, he shook his head slightly before nodding.

“Okay, Needy. I’m sorry,” he rushed, holding his hands out like he was calming a stray animal. “Let’s uh. Let’s go look for an hour, alright? But then we need to sleep so we can look more tomorrow.”

You crumpled then, hands covering your face as your knees went weak. Zoro was right there, holding you against his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, Needy. I’m sorry.”

Zoro had practically carried you back after your futile hour of searching. You crashed hard, not even changing clothes, not even waiting for Zoro to lay beside you before you were out.

There was a brief moment of peace as you woke, before the previous day came crashing onto you, heavy and sick. Zoro wasn’t in the room

He’d left a note on the bed.

‘On the roof. Couldn’t sleep.’

You crushed it in your hand, and hated yourself for your thoughts.

He can fall asleep anywhere. I guess yesterday got to him after all.

A soft knock made you gasp, and sudden fear shot through you.

“It’s me, Angel. Are you awake?”

Sanji’s voice was so hushed, but you climbed out of bed to run to it.

When he closed the door behind him he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head while he buried his face in your hair.

“Are you alright, my love?”

“No, Sanji.”

He sighed, nodding his head against you.

“Of course you aren’t.”

You pulled away, rushing to grab a change of clothes.

“Can we go look for Robin now?”

He looked up at the ceiling, his face drawn when he met your gaze again.

“I stood lookout all night near the shore. In case she came back to the Merry.”

He shook his head at your widened eyes, then pulled out a cigarette.

“She never said anything about leaving.”

You started scrambling into clean clothes, noticing that he looked away instead of watching you.

“She wouldn’t just leave, Sanji. Something happened to her. She wouldn’t leave.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, voice heavy. “Let’s go find the others.”

You found Chopper with Zoro on the roof, Luffy perched on the edge of the neighboring building, looking away from his crew.

“-injured. He could barely even stand up. And now he probably has a fever!”

“Chopper, that’s enough, okay. Don’t talk about him anymore.”

Your jaw fell open at Zoro’s words, and you knelt by Chopper, taking his hoof into your hand.

Sanji stepped between you as you shot a heated look at your swordsman.

“We’re going to look in town for Robin today. If anything happens, we should use this inn as the meetup point.”

Chopper followed Sanji's voice, trembling.

“I’ll come with you! Do you… do you think we’re gonna find her?”

“We don’t have any clues where to look. But I just have this feeling that she’s still here, somewhere.”

Sanji’s words made you feel a bit of relief. Knowing that someone else cared about finding her as much as you did.

You went to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. Laying your face against his shoulder, you breathed him in, the stale smoke and dirty clothes not hindering the comfort his scent gave you.

Nami’s voice broke your calm, yelling to Luffy about someone named ‘Iceberg.’

The mayor and shipwright had been shot in his home, and the city was on high alert. Luffy and Nami shared that they had met Iceberg the day before, and you gasped as Luffy launched himself off the roof to go check on him, with Nami racing to follow.

“On that note, let’s go find Robin,” Sanji said, before turning back to Zoro as he sat against the wall. “What about you?”

“I think I’ll just wait a while. See how things turn out.”

You stared at Zoro as he put his hands behind his head, getting comfortable.

He doesn’t give a fuck about Robin. Does he care about anything?

You hit the elevator button for your floor instead of the ground level.

“Wha-”

“I need to grab something.”

You left the room, heading back to meet them at the elevator before Sanji stepped in front of you.

“What are you doing, Angel? Are those armed?”

“Sanji, I need to be able to protect myself. I’m ready. And it’s not your decision.”

Sanji clenched his jaw as he looked at your tonfa, the purple and green giving the modified versions away. He kept staring, breathing heavily before shaking his head.

Sanji pulled at your wrist, and you followed him and Chopper out of the inn, and down into the streets.

You could have sworn you heard Sanji breathe, ‘fuck,’ as he lead you outside.

Desperation made you frantic, asking every person you saw if they’d seen a beautiful woman, describing her features, and pleading with them to help you.

“Angel, please don’t stray too far. I couldn’t stand to lose you too.”

But you couldn’t focus on Sanji’s words, his gentle touch on your shoulder. All you were was wide searching eyes, and a heart beating so fast it might leave your body.

Until clanging alarms blasted from every corner, blaring a warning that had every citizen rushing away.

“Attention please. This is the Water 7 Forecasting Center. An Aqua Laguna warning has been issued. Estimated arrival for midnight tonight.”

You spun, panting as you watched the area clear out. People were yelling to share the news, and you found your way back to Sanji as he asked someone for details.

“Aw, you’ve come sightseeing at a really bad time. It’s an annual storm, you all need to get to high ground before the city floods.”

Robin.

Luckily Sanji and Chopper echoed your rising concern, and you raced through the city.

Until you had to break, to breathe, hating your weak body. Sanji brushed the hair out of your face, sticky from sweat.

“What does she like, where would she go?”

You lip quivered as you tried to answer Chopper’s question.

“I guess I still don’t know her well enough, I have no idea where to look.”

Sanji kissed your clammy hands, rubbing them against the rising winds.

“Hey, uh..’

Chopper’s strained voice brought you to the moment.

“So this storm’s supposed to be really bad? What if… What if there was a tourist who didn’t know about it? Maybe they had a boat they wanted to take care of? It would be pretty bad, right?”

Usopp.

“That reminds me,” Sanji said with a cough. “Didn’t you say you forgot something on the Merry? A medical bag, right Chopper?”

With a breath, you followed them back to your old home.

The sight of the Merry brought heat up your throat, and you ached to climb onto the deck.

You’d run out of energy now, and fell into blankness as you watched Sanji and Chopper yell about the storm, pretending to be yelling at each other instead of Usopp.

“This is ridiculous, why can’t we ju-”

You heard steps moving through the ship, and the door started to swing open.

You tried to cry out his name, but Sanji picked you up, racing away with Chopper so you wouldn’t be seen by your one time crewmate.

You felt empty in his arms as slow tears stained your face.

The city looked barren when you made it back, most citizens gone for the shelter already. That made it easier for you to pick up on the few conversations still going on around you.

“I bet if we find one of the pirates with bounties, we can make them tell us who the other crewmates are.”

“Yeah, those straw hat pirates are gonna pay for what they did to Iceberg.”

You froze in your tracks, Chopper moving to stand beside you, still in his reindeer form as he searched for Robin’s scent.

Sanji interrupted that conversation, but your ears were ringing too much to follow.

“They’re saying Robin’s the assassin that tried to kill the mayor. They’re after all of us now.”

“N-No, she w-”

“Shh, angel,” Sanji whispered as he pulled you into a hug to quiet your outburst. “I know she didn’t. But we need to be careful, we’re all in danger now.”

“What about the others? Do you think they're okay?”

You turned to Chopper, heart heavy with the weight of all your loved ones safety.

“Let’s go find them.”

Chopper’s weak smile was cut short as he lifted his nose into the air. Hope ripped through you, almost painful after all the loss of the last two days.

Chopper tore through the streets, leaving you and Sanji scrambling to chase after him. Nearly falling down the stone stairs, you caught up to Chopper, Sanji’s hand reaching out to steady you.

“Chopper, wha-”

Chopper was at the edge of the canal, staring across to another street.

Staring at Robin.

She was standing right there, so close. You cried out her name, Sanji and Chopper echoing you.

Robin stood there, almost as still as when you watched her frozen form glinting in the sunlight.

Hope and relief had slammed into you, almost making your knees weak, but something in her eyes stopped your breath.

“Robin, I’m so glad you’re okay, we need to get out of here!”

Sanji looked around at your words, shouting over to her.

“Hold on, I’m going to look for a way around this canal, we’ll be right over there.”

“Don’t bother. Stay where you are.”

Robin’s voice was cool, the wind blowing her long black hair around her face, almost hypnotizing you.

“I won’t be returning to you or your crew. We’re parting ways here, in this city”

Your mind couldn’t make sense of it, your mouth hanging open while you reached out, useless hands shaking in the air between you.

Sanji was able to speak, and you just stared into her eyes while he pleaded with her.

“What are you talking about, Robin? Is this about the newspaper? None of us believe you did that, Robin, don’t worry!”

You felt your fists clenching, the pain of your nails starting to wake you to the moment as Robin went on.

“About that, I’m sorry for pinning such an unreasonable crime on all of you. But as far as my involvement, everything the newspapers say is true. Last night, I broke into the mayor’s place of residence and shot him.”

Sanji cigarette fell from his fingers, and you felt your head shaking back and forth, your mouth too dry to speak, Not that you could have found words anyway.

“No way,” Chopper breathed, his legs quivering beneath him.

She held the three of you in a trance as she kept sending out words like knives.

“Inside me, I carry a darkness that none of you know about. One day, that darkness will be the end of all of you.”

Memories of Robin’s pain filled eyes, the look she rarely let you see, flooded your mind. You’d always known Robin had secrets, but you couldn’t think of anything dark enough that you wouldn’t want her to stay with you.

“I’m afraid you’ll be taking the fall for last night’s attack while I escape. And let me warn you, the situation will only get worse.”

“What do you mean? Why are you-” Sanji broke in, his desperate yell bringing heat to your throat.

Both Sanji and Chopper started pleading with her now, but all you could do was whisper her name, begging her with your eyes as you swayed on your feet.

“From this day forward, we will never see each other again. Thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me. I’ll never forget it. Goodbye.”

Robin turned, and the three of you were frozen as you heard her heels echoing on the stone as she walked away from you.

Finally, your body woke enough to let you say the words you’d been holding in for some time. They came out of you in a desperate yell, seeming to tear you apart as they left your throat.

“I love you, Robin! Please, don’t leave me!”

Robin’s steps didn’t even slow and you sank to your knees, hardly noticing the pain as you fell.

Part of you could hear Chopper and Sanji screaming beside you, and then you gasped as Sanji dove into the canal.

The water was choppy with the storm coming, and fear for him shook you out of your dissociation. You stood, determination filling your veins now as you pulled out your purple tonfa.

“Blackout Dart,” you shouted, putting your lips to the short end of the weapon, aiming your first poison dart at the woman you loved.

You had seconds to see that your aim was true. It was going to hit her back, and she’d be knocked unconscious.

You had less than a second to feel hope before an arm appeared on her shoulder to bat the dart away.

She didn’t even turn to look at you.

Then she was gone.

Twisting and squeezing the fabric to get out as much water as you could, you handed Sanji his shirt as he did what he would with his jacket. The wind and water was getting more intense, but you could barely feel a thing, your body and mind still numb.

“Chopper, Angel, go meet up with Luffy and the others. Tell them everything that happened between us and Robin. Don’t leave out a single word. As for me, I have a plan. I’ll be careful. We’ll meet up later.”

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips, but you pulled it away.

“No. Chopper, you go. I’m staying.”

“No, Angel-”

“Sanji, we keep losing people. I’m not letting you go without me.”

Chopper looked back and forth between you, then nodded.

“Be careful,” he demanded, before charging away without you.

Sanji leaned his head back, taking a long drag off his cigarette.

“Robin said she’s escaping while we take the fall. There’s only one way off this island tonight. We’re going to get her back.”

You wished you smoked just so you’d have something to calm your nerves. The two of you were hiding in the shadows between buildings as you watched the government officials talk to Robin at the train station.

She was wearing a huge green shawl and hood, but you saw her face lit under the lanterns, and you’d recognize her graceful steps anywhere.

After she was led inside, you saw a group the marines called ‘CP9.’ You felt a sickly chill crawl up your skin at the sight of the four of them.

There was an attractive blonde woman, a man with long black hair and a top hat, a man in a baseball cap with a noticeably large nose even from a distance, and another man that was huge, towering over them.

That man had two squirming figures tied up over his shoulders. They were both yelling to be released, one large with blue hair, and the other was Usopp.

Usopp!

You grabbed onto Sanji’s arm, and he gave a small nod as he kept his eyes trained on the sniper.

“Come on.”

“What if someone else finds it?”

“They won’t be able to track us, but if there’s a chance Nami or the other finds this, it’s worth it.”

Sanji tucked his note under the transponder snail on the ground at the station.

You had made your way closer to the back of the train, away from where the military were filing in. Now all you had to do was wait.

Waiting was the worst fucking thing you could be doing right now.

Gripping Sanji’s knee as you sat on a bench in the darkest corner you could find, you started to fall apart.

“Shh, Angel, we know where she is, and we’re going to get her back. I promise you.”

He was running his palm in circles on your back, and you heard the note of fear in his voice.

“S-Sanji, she…”

Your sobs were quiet, but overwhelming you, almost hiccuping as you fought to breathe through it. He pulled you in against his chest rocking you as he whispered in your ear.

“Please, my love, I can’t stand to see you hurting. I promise, we will do everything we can for Robin. And for Usopp. You have my word.”

His words didn’t break through, and you felt yourself starting to have hysterics. Your mind was screaming at you to fucking stop, knowing that at any moment you would need to be ready.

Sanji pulled back, cupping your cheeks as he searched your face.

“Darling, please trust me. Your tears are… Please, we have time. Let me touch you, let me make you feel better. So you can breathe with me?”

You realized at the crack in his voice that Sanji needed comfort too. That his making you feel good would help him right now. His eyes were pleading as his fingers stroked your hair. You swallowed the hot tears that were starting to form.

Nodding, you felt his lips against yours, and you combed your fingers through his hair, sobbing at the relief of his comforting heat.

“Please darling, can you be quiet for me? Can you let me touch you, I’ll take good care of you angel, I’m here for you.”

His voice held a hint of panic, anxiety bubbling as his hands rubbed along the sides of your body.

“Yes, Sanji. I know you’re here. I love you, I know you’ll always take care of me.”

“I love you, Y/N, my angel.”

Sanji pulled you onto his lap until your back was against his chest.

The wind sent a spray of seawater to mist along your skin as Sanji’s lips found your neck.

Your mind tried to hold all the pain and worry of your time on this cursed island, but you gave into Sanji’s touch, letting him bring you back to the moment, back to your body.

He kept his lips and tongue along your neck and shoulder as his hands trailed over your clothed body.

“My perfect angel, I’ve got you. Breathe with me sweetheart.”

Focusing on his breath, feeling his chest rise and fall against your back, you started to follow him.

“Sanji…”

“I’m here, mon coeur. I’ll always be here.”

Waves started lapping against the stone, the storm coming to caress your body as Sanji’s nimble fingers dipped into your pants. Your lover found your clit in the dark effortlessly, his touch had traveled your skin endless times when all was well in your world.

Now you clung to each other, fear riding you both as you tried to grasp onto some of the peace your lives still held.

Peace in each other when everything else felt lost.

“I love you, my heart, my treasure, my angel. I’ll protect you, I’ll take care of you. Are you feeling better?”

The concern in his question felt out of place for the way his fingers were making you dance in his lap.

“Yes, Sanji. You make me feel so good,” you moaned as Sanji’s tongue traced up your neck, his nose dragging along your skin as if he wanted to drown in your scent.

The tingling pressure built in you, his fingers manipulating you so easily, even in the chaos around you.

The hard length of him under your ass had you gasping, desperate to feel him inside of you, to lose yourself in him.

We don’t have time for that.

That thought almost killed your momentum, but Sanji rasped more praise against your skin before gently biting the lobe of your ear, and you were over the edge.

“You're doing so well for me, Angel. So perfect for me.”

Chewing on your lip to hold in your moans, you lifted your hand over your head to reach back, and hold onto his hair as you twitched in his lap.

The sound of the train starting up jolted you off his lap, before you’d come down from your high.

Sanji wiped your pleasure from his hand, staining his still damp jacket before reaching for you.

Voices of the train station employees called after you as you ran full speed toward the still slow train, but you left them in the dust.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you yelled, focusing on the railing as your target sped up.

Without a thought, you leapt over the crashing waves, reaching for the train.

Reaching for Robin.

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Part 22

A/N: Welp, I hope you enjoyed the pain! I'm having so much fun, this is my favorite arc and I love adding MORE drama to it, lol

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#angst #sanji x reader #nico robin x fem!reader #zoro x reader #sanji smut #One Piece smut #f/f fanfic #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #nico robin x reader #poly fanfic #nico robin fanfic #sanji fanfic #one piece fanfic #zoro fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics

68 notes · View notes

tae88 · 5 months

Text

#black follow train #black tumblr #blackout #followforfollow #new followers #single af #black alt #follow train #new profile pic

4 notes · View notes

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 2 months

Text

Ψ M is for Maraclea: Chapter Three

M is for Maraclea: Following an accident you had over summer break, you find yourself in limbo after being legally dead for several minutes. Now an outcast at boarding school, you end up finding comfort in a strange boy named Nigel. As winter draws near and tragedy strikes, your only reprieve from madness comes from a mind much like your own.

Warnings: Death.

To Note: Nigel Colbie x Fem!Reader, NAMED Reader for Plot Reasons, There Are A Lot of DARK Themes.

Word Count: ~2.2k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

You had no idea why Alex and Josh were dragging a boy to the train station, and were even more confused when they got on. You followed of course, your curiosity piqued and mind focused on what they were doing. It was already past curfew for them. They weren’t supposed to be out like this but clearly, by their actions and ease alone, this wasn’t the first time they had done this. You lost them at one point, trying to figure out the schedule of the train to ensure that you’d get back, and took to slowly moving through train cars as it began moving to find them.

Naturally, you got distracted when your eyes caught dark landscape flashing by and you took a few moments to stare out the window. Or perhaps several minutes, the darkness was truly inviting to you. Going to a door at the end of the car you were in, you pressed your palm against the glass and watched the occasional lights flicker by. It’d been ages since you had left the academy grounds, either of them, and you missed the eery silence. The train shook and ratted around, and as you blinked a loud bang erupted in the night and you flinched back from the bright flash of light.

Bloody hell what was that!

Taking a few moments to blink the stars from your eyes, you were more prepared for more of the loud pops that exploded just outside the train. If you remembered correctly, Josh liked to make flash bangs. They must be just up ahead. Leaving behind the window, you entered the next train car and spotted Josh fiddling with one of his flash bangs. Hurrying towards him, Josh’s eyes widened when he spotted you and he turned to the hidden part of the train care where Alex must be. Josh spoke something to Alex and your brother was immediately sticking out from behind the metal wall and glaring at you.

“What are you doing here!?” He yelled. You gazed back, unperturbed by his raised voice and words.

“I could ask you the same,” You retorted, stepping forwards to see who the poor boy that had gotten dragged into Alex and Josh’s games was. The moment your eyes settled on starry blue eyes framed by black lashes you paused in step. His gaze held yours, much like your own. Demured yet something lurked deep within, something that made a spark in your mind and a warmth bloom in your chest. A like mind. You were unable to get in another word, for the train rattled and you were thrown off your feet. Stumbling back, you heard Josh let out a yell, and then a hiss at your feet. One glance down was all you had before a bright flash went off and a painful explosion rang in your ears.

Stunned, you slumped over against hard plastic chairs as your ears rang in deafening silence. With your hearing in a blackout, you focused on your breathing and basked in the peaceful comfort that almost reminded you of your death. Silent. Cold. Pacifying even. Your hearing came back with a resounding ringing in your ears and you pressed a hand to your head. That beautiful silence hadn’t lasted nearly as long as you had liked. Blinking, you saw Josh trying to drag Alex away from the car door. Oh Alex was making a right mess of things.

You had the best luck in calming in down when Alex was in a mood and clawed forwards. But as you reached the three boys, Josh flung Alex away from the door and his momentum was furthered by a lurch of the train. You watched with a passive face as he leaned off kilter out of train, terror on his face. Then he was gone. Smashed into a pole along the tracks. Silence reigned once more, death spreading its touch around you. Blinking you settled your eyes on the boy that was Alex’s latest target.

His nose was bloody, a crimson drip having run over his lips, but you were captivated by his hypnotic eyes. You could have swore that you saw a reflection of yourself within his eyes, haunting pain and a need for that blissful silence. Reaching into your jacket pocket, you pulled out the embroidered handkerchief all girls at your academy had, and offered it to him.

You didn’t go to Josh’s funeral, naturally, if your father had learned that you’d followed Alex he would be ever so irate with you and that would just be a bother. So you simply played the good daughter and prayed with the other girls at mass, and went about your week under the guise of normalcy. It was not a normal week. You couldn’t get hypnotic blue eyes out of your mind. Or midnight hair. Or even the color of his blood staining his nose and lips. Crimson. A pretty shade that matched blue and black.

He still had your handkerchief. You’d promptly left for your dorm room before Susan grew worried and raised alarm to the dorm mother. She still tutted at you for staying out so late, but you reassured her that your brother had been in your company so you hadn’t been alone. It was nearly a week later before you were back on the boys academy grounds. You were walking with the girls in the play, on your way to rehearsals.

Passing by Alex who was painting part of the set, you saw him eye Susan. Peculiar. Alex had never shown interest in a girl before, you wondered how that would bode with his hot headedness. Entering the grand room of the academy, you helped Susan and Eloise into their stage garments as Ethel pulled out her clipboard. Your fingers fussed with Susan’s head piece, making sure that all of her brown hair was tucked away by white fabric.

“The piano was tuned,” Susan softly spoke while attaching the wooden cross necklace around her neck. You spared a glance in the direction of the piano, pleased to hear so.

“Then I shall practice some of the pieces,” You murmured, finally pleased that Susan’s costume was ready. “I am sure Ethel will request that I play the music in time for the scenes you will practice.”

“It would help to speak our lines while you play.” While Susan and Eloise began speaking to each other about their roles in the play, you walked out of the changing area and headed for the piano. Ethel promptly followed you, clipboard in hand. She scribbled something down on a piece of paper and thrust it towards you.

“These are all the scenes we are rehearsing today, find the sheet music for the scenes and play them when I tell you to.” She ordered before striking off to do something else. You almost made a smart ass comment about her not saying please, but held your tongue. Picking up the folder of sheet music, you riffled through the pages and pulled out what you needed. Settling them up on the stand, you uncovered the keys and pressed the ones that had been in need to tuning. Perfect. There was nothing like playing a freshly tuned piano.

You did a few repetitions of your basic warm up to get your chilled fingers to move smoothly. Perhaps you’d get lost in the music and give your mind a chance to think of someone other than the blue eyed boy that consumed your thoughts. So you focused on the rich notes blooming from the piano and the strong voices of the students practicing their lines. Scene by scene, you put up with Ethel’s orders and as things finally wrapped up, you were once again floating in a state of in-between. Cold. Silence. Blue eyes. Blue eyes? Black hair… you were thinking of him again.

“Mind over matter,” You murmured to yourself, looking up at the panes of stained glass. You felt eyes on your body and paused in your shuffling of papers. Looking up, you looked around. No wonder you felt at peace. Pushing back from the piano, you rose from your seat and brushed out your skirt before striding for him. Perhaps you’d finally get a name…

“Hello,” He spoke as you walked up to him.

“Hello,” You echoed, clasping your hands together in front of you. He slowly reached not the inner lining of his blazer and withdrew a familiar looking handkerchief.

“I got all the blood out of it,” He murmured while you kept your eyes trained on his. Such a pretty blue.

“I wouldn’t have minded, it is just a bit of blood,” You answered honestly, slowly taking the handkerchief back. It was quiet for a few moments before you decided to speak up. “How do you know my brother?”

“We were roommates for a short while.” He explained to you. You made a noise in the back of your throat in surprise. Alex had pressed your father into making sure he never had roommates… “My name is Nigel.”

“I’m—”

“The lovely Lady Mary,” Nigel cut you off, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. “You’re the talk among the boys.” Your eye twitched ever so slightly, not unnoticed by him. “Oh don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Alex is quite protective of you, warned off any boy brave enough to even look at you.”

“Surprising,” You spoke softly. “Given the rumors whispered among the girls at my academy.” It was Nigel’s turn to tilt his head.

“They don’t understand,”

“No, they don’t,” You echoed, looking back at the girls. “But not all of them are cruel. Besides, I find solace and beauty in silence.”

“Is that why you like playing the piano by yourself? Because they are loud?”

“They don’t understand me,” Your eyes caught sight a notebook tucked beneath his arm. “Pardon for prying but you don’t appear to be observing the play rehearsal.”

“I like to draw,” Nigel supplied, shifting his grasp on his notebook. “I enjoy listening to your music while I work on my diagrams.”

“You draw diagrams?” You questioned, wondering what was interesting enough to draw diagrams of. “May I ask of what?”

“Would you like to see them?” Your eyes sparkled, echoing the delight of your interest and nodding eagerly, you took a step closer. Nigel took his notebook and opened it, flipping a few pages until he landed on his latest drawing. It was the anatomy of a bird, cleverly and expertly drawn to show the innards in the most beautiful detail.

“Impeccable,” You breathed, itching to stroke the fine lines of the diagram and trace the neat scribbles of notes Nigel had written in the margin.”How many have you done?”

“Quite a few, it’s a hobby of mine,” Nigel said proudly, turning the page to show you more of his diagrams. You were truly fascinated by the macabre drawings and attention to detail, admiring Nigel’s ability to both capture the artistic look while being scientific at the same time. Rather than stand awkwardly in the alcove at the end of the hall, you and Nigel moved to a bench off to the side. You found that you liked hearing him talk about his passion for anatomy, and that his voice was so soothing to you.

Nigel told you all about the dissections he had done for his diagrams, which easily explained the detailed drawings. He was a meticulous, calculated, and intelligent. Pointing to a diagram of a rabbit, he’d found it after his neighbors dog had caught and killed it, Nigel explained the process he’d done to preserve the body so he could later study it.

“What do you intend to do with all this knowledge?” You asked, fingers drawing down a page in appreciation. “Your work is incredible, surely you have some plan to utilize your skills…” A far away look bloomed within Nigel’s eyes for a moment before he responded.

“My parents want me to become a doctor, or a lawyer, my father even mentioned becoming a banker once.” You took note that he hadn’t answered your question, but simply told you what others expected of him.

“That is what your parents want,” You reiterated quietly, feeling the weight placed upon Nigel’s shoulders. It was similar to the one that rested on Alex’s… and yours. “What does Nigel want?” He stared at you, only becoming more enamored with you. A small smile crept onto his lips.

“I wouldn’t mind becoming a surgeon.” You nodded in agreement, a small smile of your own appearing.

“That makes sense, your eye for detail with these drawings, I’m sure you’ll make a splendid surgeon.” You said, looking up from the diagrams to peer out the widows. It was a rather blustery day. The following week would be even worse.

“And what about you?” Nigel asked in turn, wishing to know more about you, the only girl that had ever really interested him. You looked back to him and softly shrugged.

“I’m not so sure, my father… he has spent most of his time and energy making sure that Alex is built for success. I’ve just been an afterthought. Of course he cares for me, has ensued that I have the best education there is, but I don’t think there is much expectation of me from him. I like music, but I am not sure how I would turn that into a career.”

The future was a daunting thing to ponder. You longed for silence and darkness, that calming feeling washing through your body once more. How odd that Nigel exuded that wonderful feeling. You didn’t mind.

Date Published: 4/1/24

Last Edit: 4/1/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#like minds #nigel colbie x reader #nigel colbie

35 notes · View notes

headspace-hotel · 1 year

Note

I'm probably gonna regret attaching my name to this but I slept on it and I'm still really upset but now more coherent (so please delete this if it's unwelcome).

First of all I'm really sorry you're dealing w this shit. I hope you're taking care of yourself rn.

Second of all.... holy fuck Inneskeeper has handled this horribly. I'm trying to extend the benefit of the doubt and say he just needs time, we all do, but it's very hard when he's been acting as though a day is enough time for everyone to get over the fear he spread.

It's really upsetting to see him bring up both his schizophrenia and his career as reasons why he was upset without ever actually uttering the words "I'm sorry, I was wrong." without needing to read between the lines.

It's a really concerning trend I've noticed reappearing now that actual celebrities and just plain old popular users are becoming more open with their mental health, that "I was having a psychotic break/I was having a manic episode/I was blah-de-blah" somehow taking the place of an actual apology. As if explaining it means you no longer have to take action or responsibility.

Especially given he was bringing up his profession during all this. As a professional especially he has a responsibility. I know "this is tumblr" but this is TUMBLR. People don't fact-check. You have sway. Especially as a professional.

He could've made the post unrebloggable, but if he did I haven't seen it. He could've pinned a post that actually contained information/a retraction/a quick apology and explanation, instead we got "I'm taking a break". He edited the post, but given part of his defense was that reblog chains are uncontrollable an edit you would not see unless you clicked back to his blog is...

I'm really hoping that once he comes back he'll say something. Because I know parasocial relationship and all that but I really did respect him, as someone transgender and with some of my specific mental illnesses in a field I'm deeply interested in.

But now I'm just... tired. He spread that same cycle of panic and delusion to everyone who read that post. Here I was thinking that I just got my dog back from the vet and now she and everyone else I love was going to die, that the apocalypse was coming.

Until I did the googling he as an actual ecologist did not do. As if me taking a tumblr post and freaking is less acceptable than him taking a twitter post and freaking.

I don't want to cancel him or bully him. I don't doubt that he's gotten some ableist nonsense, because the internet sucks. But he really hurt a lot of people and did a lot of damage. All I want is him to plainly say "I'm sorry, I did it because [x/y/z] but it was still wrong and I hurt people. Here is some actual information. I'm going to log off." Without a billion asterisks.

And honestly maybe apologize for siccing people on you but frankly given how hard my opinion of him has tanked I'm not gonna hold my breath.

I'm fine. The block button is a wonderful thing.

My feelings are mixed. Yes, I see that it would be terrifying to have your mental illness warp your perception of an event, but...you're not the only mentally ill person on Earth, and it's no less terrifying to be triggered into an episode by false information.

I have been asked by several followers to trigger tag #unreality because that kind of thing really messes with them. And the post was framed in a particularly triggering way—encouraging conspiratorial thinking by saying that there's a "media blackout" and that the official sources are downplaying the severity.

The post is still circulating as of this morning, and the misleading version is still hitting people's dashes and suckering people in. Why would you not just make it unrebloggable?

I don't know. I really don't know what to think of the whole thing.

The Twitter OP makes me honestly furious, claiming that "the cops" "blew it up" when it was first responders putting their lives in danger to stop the burning train cars from exploding. It's so frustrating to see people acting like they're calling it a "controlled burn" to cover up idiotic mismanagement. The crews that responded to this accident at great potential risk to their lives don't deserve to be called cops and slandered for making the best decision they could have possibly made.

In general it's worrying how folks on social media are responding—by encouraging paranoia and mistrust by attributing malice or idiocy to the people trying to manage the accident.

Folks say "fuck cops" but they can't distinguish cops from firefighters and hazardous materials crews working to save lives. That's scary to me.

I don't think we know enough yet to ascertain the causes of the accident, but I want to caution against looking for a specific party to blame as being at fault, because...these things can happen even when we do everything right. As long as we use these hazardous chemicals to make things, this is always a possibility.

And it's not necessarily a "preventable" failure of society that we make and use PVC, either. One of the causes of how widespread plastics are is that they are genuinely useful materials with properties that no other materials have. PVC pipe is what probably makes the plumbing in your house. Before PVC, there was copper, which is incredibly expensive, has a tendency to burst with temperature changes, and corrodes and reacts with various chemicals.

And the sad fact is, environmental disasters like this happen a lot. Many of them worse than this.

Not too far from where I live, there was a case where tons of radioactive waste were dumped into a municipal landfill. This radioactive waste was being handled by workers who didn't know what it was and had no protection. This was a case of malicious dodging of regulations. Mining coal creates radioactive and toxic waste that is constantly mismanaged. I was doing reports on local environmental news for my geology class a while back and many of the coal mines in Eastern Kentucky have a hundredfold violations of environmental and safety regulations, and companies usually dodge responsibility.

I hope this incident inspires people to think and talk about environmental regulations and rights of workers in the rail industry. What with the railroad strikes going on, I think it's worth considering that this is why we need to look out for the welfare of rail workers—you want the people handling the shipment of hazardous chemicals to be well rested and well protected.

#environmental disaster #ohio train derailment

250 notes · View notes

moonspiritleaf · 22 days

Text

A New Member

(Space Riders AU by @onyxonline)

North Heat, captain of the Rangers, was walking down the hallway of the academy, walking besides him was a magpie who was explaining the place. About how they house trainees and keep them here till they turned 20 and graduate.

"So, what made you consider getting a trainee, Mr. North?" The magpie asked.

"Well, my crew and I were thinking about getting another member for our team. We tried looking for any other Space Riders available, looking for a team to join but...there were none." North Heat explained.

"I see. Well, I'm sure you'll find the perfect trainee here that will be a part of your team." The magpie said. “I have one in mind, but uh….I’m not sure if they’ll be a good addition to your crew or not.”

“Really? Who?” North Heat said.

“Ehhhh…..Zane.” The magpie said reluctantly.

“You uh…didn’t sound happy there.” North Heat said. “Is he not good?”

“It’s…not that. It’s just….Zane can be a little…aggressive.” The magpie replied. “He got into fights, though it only happened like…3 times…but it left him a bad reputation among the other trainees. He’s a little scary…”

“But! But, the reason why I suggested him is because I think he can be a great Space Rider, with someone giving him proper training and helping him with his powers.” She adds.

“He has powers?” North Heat said.

“Yeah. Electricity powers. Almost caused a blackout in the training building.” The magpie said.

North Heat puts a hand on his chin, thinking about this. After a few minutes, he says "Can you take me to him?"

North Heat follows the magpie who takes him to the dorm and room that Zane was staying in. The magpie knocked on the door.

"Zane? It's me, Ms. Delilah." The magpie, Delilah, spoke.

A few seconds of silence passed before Zane spoke through the door. "Come in." He said.

Delilah opens the door and sees Zane sitting on his bed, looking at the wall of his room.

Zane faces Delilah. "What do you want?" He asked, tone and look deadpan.

"There's someone who wants to see you. Someone that's a Space Rider Captain." Delilah said, letting Zane see North Heat.

"Hey there, buddy. Name's North Heat, but you can call me North for short." North Heat introduces himself to the blue wolf.

Zane just gives him an unimpressed look. He then looks at Delilah.

“What does he want?” Zane asked.

“W-Well, uh…His crew’s looking for another member to join them. They tried looking for an official Space Rider to join them but they were all taken. So…Mr. North’s here to take in a trainee.” Delilah said.

“Ms. Delilah recommended you and I think you’ll fit right in our team!” North Heat said, smiling to show Zane that’s he’s good.

Zane just looked at them, still not looking impressed. He then looked back at the wall.

“Yeah, he’s not a….people person.” Delilah said.

“Hmm…Is it alright if I talked with him alone?” North Heat said.

“H-Huh? Uh…sure but, I don’t know if it’ll help.” Delilah said.

“Won’t know until you try.” North Heat said.

“….Okay. I’ll uh…be in my office…Uh…go there if you need me.” Delilah said before quickly walking off, leaving North and Zane by themselves.

North watched as Zane kept staring at the wall. “So uh…heard you got a little violent here.” North said.

“…” Zane just stared at the wall.

“That ain’t a good thing to do, kiddo. Especially when you do it towards your fellow trainees.” North said.

“Fellow? We ain’t friends.” Zane said.

“Never said you were. But I’m saying that you shouldn’t go get all aggressive and start fights like that.” North said.

“Those jerks started it. They were looking for a way to rile me up. They were the ones who were looking for a fight.” Zane said.

“And yet, you were the one who initiated it.” North Heat said.

Zane gritted his teeth, growling a little bit. North wasn’t fazed by this and instead sighed. “Look, I’m not saying I defend them, I’m just saying that letting violence solve your problems can lead you down a bad path.”

This actually makes Zane’s ears go up a bit, the wolf was no longer baring his fangs nor growling anymore.

“…So why are you choosing me to be in your crew? I doubt I’d be a good addition to it.” Zane said.

“Well, I think you will. And Ms. Delilah thinks so too.” North said. “We just gotta work out your…violent way of solving problems.”

“…But what about your crew mates? What will they think of me?” Zane asked.

“It’s gonna take some time. But they’ll see that you're amazing!" North said.

"You really think I'd be a great Space Rider?" Zane asked.

"Not just think. I know you will." North replied.

North Heat- @north-heats-stronghold

Merrit- @fishy0bishy

Jaz- fanofanythingsblog (account deactivated on here)

Zelda & Sparky- @fandomssvetlanafrom

Sunny- @novalizinpeace

Zane and Delilah belong to me.

#art #poppy playtime #poppy playtime smiling critters #space riders au #smiling critters #smiling critters oc #smiling critters au

32 notes · View notes

cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months

Note

Hi there! I’m a big fan. I saw your request for something besides Arthur. Not sure if this qualifies, but it’s an idea I had.

What if reader is fairly new to the gang, or new barmaid in town, and both Charles and Arthur are interested in them. They both have this ongoing competition to try to win reader’s affections. Reader, of course, is oblivious. Up to you who wins.

This is an idea I had noodling around, but not sure if/when I’d write it. I’m curious to see your spin. If you’re not feeling it, that’s ok, I totally understand

Genius Of Love

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader x Charles Smith)

I had fun writing reader as a contemptuous woman. She’s so silly. Also I made it so there’s no winner, you can decide that for yourself based on what they say. Ambiguity is fun.

Warnings: uhh mentions of stabbings, drinking ig

You began your first day as a barmaid in anticipatory apprehensiveness. Your anxiety-laden first day, following your release from jail, provided you with a small sense of stability and normalcy. You were given minimal training, the job feeling more like a test of logic and wit to gauge your competence. While sitting in your holding cell, you’d imagine the first thing you would do once you got out was to have some sort of nasty fun, but your more adult-like sense insisted you try and start your life again. So instead of walking into the saloon with intentions of a weekend long bender, you found yourself acquiring a job instead of a hangover.

Within the first hour of your job, a man had gotten blackout drunk and put his hand on your ass shortly before vomiting next to his stool. You found the thud of his body crashing into the mud outside the saloon steps to be satisfactory, having to heave his unconscious body outside was not very fun on the other hand. Many of the men made a show of watching your ass as you walked past, leaning back on their seats for far too long before they came crashing down as well. The entire day was made up of small tests for your patience, seeing just how rehabilitory jail had been for you after you stabbed a man superficially for brushing up against you lasciviously. You knew you were on thin ice after the incident, so so much as slapping a man could probably land you back in the slammer. Though, after remerging yourself into this god-awfully virile town, part of you wished the wound had been fatal.

You found it to sometimes be a relief to act outwardly vicious, to confirm that you were deeply flawed and not at all lady like so many others expected you to be. People were often startled by the contentious inflection in your voice; because you’re pretty they assume you’ll be docile and submissive. It was odd to men that it appeared as though you were one of them, just as it would’ve startled them to find out you fight like one of them too. Occasionally in your teen years, some boys from the road you lived on would pick on you and subsequently get pulverized by you, their sense of consternation leaving you deeply gratified. With their staggering stature over you and their forming muscles and wide set shoulders it was easy to imagine them overpowering you in a fight, but you had a face that denied violence.

With the passing hours of the day, the faces of various men seemed to blur into one blob of amalgamation. They were nearly indistinguishable, all possessing the same incipient beards and tired, wrinkled faces. Looking down at your glasses and pouring drinks helped you temporarily evade the vulgar angles at which their stubbled jaws would protrude as they dished out their best attempts at flirting with you, the moist smacks of tongue as they masticated whatever food you served up to them. You shuddered whenever you watched another carbon copy of your previous patron walk into the saloon, adopting the same flirtatious saunter and libidinous attitude. Though the only things you could focus on as they spoke was the thought of their tongues leaving a bitter film of saliva upon your skin that made you want to gag.

You soon found yourself serving a pair of men who were passing through the bar for a quick drink. It was a pleasant surprise to not see a men in there who didn’t look like decrepit souls who just crawled out of a mine. You thought to yourself how they would perhaps be the most entertaining thing about your day, brandishing a satisfied smirk as you greeted them.

“How may I help you today, boys.” You placed your palms on the counter and leaned slightly, studying their features. They certainly didn’t possess the same wide, flapping jaws of the men who yammered away about how much they could pleasure you. They had a modest, humble air to them that you liked. Not to mention their faces were absolute eye candy, their voices as smooth as the whisky you had poured so many times that way.

“We’ll have some of your best whisky.” One said, stroking his stubble as he looked at you. The other one said nothing but nodded.

“Right away, men.” You turned your back, letting loose a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Unbeknownst to you, the two men behind you were looking at each other as if they were sizing one another up. There was a playfulness to the way they glared at each other, as if they were challenging each other to some sort of competition.

You turned back to face them, serving them their shots.

“Anything else?” You half hoped one of them would say “yes, you” but it was wishful thinking. You nearly snorted to yourself.

“Yes actually, another shot.” The other man said. His blue eyed companion looked at him speculatively while you poured. You were about to slide it to him until he raised his hand up, shaking his head. You offered a confused and slightly irritated look.

“For you, I insist.”

In unison, you and his companion laughed; his partner in disbelief and you from shock, contented that something interesting was happening.

“Ohhh I don’t know. I’m not really allowed to drink on the job…” you laughed ineptly; though in reality you had contemplated downing the entire bottle before smashing it over someone’s head the entire day. You looked around at the room of inebriated men, a feeling of pegunance overcoming you like a cresting wave.

“Oh, who the hell cares.” You concluded before throwing the shot back, hissing at the sting. The two of you laughed together, and you briefly thanked him for the shot. His friend looked on in contempt as he threw his own shot back, narrowing his eyes once again.

“I’m Charles by the way,” He began, before looking slyly to his right. “And that’s Arthur.”

As if on cue, Arthur slammed a couple of bills on the table while glaring at Charles, turning to face you with a gracious smile.

“A cognac for the lady.” He said smoothly. You smiled, turning around once again to retrieve the bottle of brandy. You certainly took no issue with men when they bought you drinks, especially when they were easy to abandon afterwards. But something about these two made you hope they’d stick around a little longer.

You poured yourself a generous cup of cognac as the man watched, downing the drink like your life depended on it.

“You sure can handle your liquor.” Arthur commented, impressed by your ability. You giggled once again, nodding in agreement.

“Certainly can. It’s a virtue if I’m gonna be working in a place like this.” You joked, cleaning the empty glasses up. The two of them were amused by your candor, exchanging competitive looks once again.

“So what are you two doing in a town like this?” You asked, wiping a glass down. “Certainly don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“We’re just passing through. We could ask you the same thing. What’s a pretty young thing like you doing working here?” Charles asked, making you wave your hand at him and giggle.

“I just got out of jail yesterday.” The true test would see how they reacted to the revelation; whether they were scared off or drawn in, you’d be relieved either way. But contrary to what you thought they’d believe, they looked curious.

“What for?” Arthur asked.

“Stabbed a man for trying to touch me. Real shallow but enough to inflict some good damage.” You spoke of the instance casually, glancing at them to see their reactions. They appeared faintly impressed, perhaps one could say they were even more intrigued by you at this point.

“Some men can be complete idiots when handling themselves around a fine young woman.” Arthur commented, to which you narrowed your eyes at him playfully.

“Mhmmm, I’m certainly not opposed to the act even after jail though.” Your catty remark had just enough bite that it made Arthur want more. And it unknowingly drew Charles in even more as well.

“Well I certainly don’t hope I end up like that fool, I know a thing or two about handling myself around such a fine woman as yourself.” You audibly groaned at Arthur’s insertion of his foretold skills with the ladies, but you weren’t opposed to finding out just how skilled he was.

“So what are you doing after work?” Charles asked suddenly, surprising you. Even you didn’t know the answer.

“Oh uhm, I’m not sure yet…” You trailed off, becoming a bit nervous. Not out of fear, but by the possibility that one of these two men could accompany you somewhere.

“Hopefully somewhere that isn’t a bar, I’m sure you’re already tired of these. I know some spots.” Charles' face blossomed into a smirk as he sipped the drink you had poured for him, catching you off guard once again and causing you to blush lightly.

“I actually know a few places where you can watch a show. In Saint Denis of course.” Arthur butted in. Your face lit up at the mention of the city.

“Oh goodness Saint Denis?! I’ve wanted to go there for so long!” You gasped, feeling genuine excitement at the possibility of going.

The two men continued back and forth, attempting to one up each other by using various different tactics. You were so good at being alone and feeling a deep seated antipathy for men, until you remembered how much fun it was to get attention from them, finding their desperate attempts to be flattering. And then you discovered a new found ache.

Genius Of Love - Talking Heads/Tom Tom Club

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #charles smith #charles smith x reader

69 notes · View notes

sourskywalker · 10 months

Text

Mrs Darth Vader - part 8; A wedding fit for an Empress

Relationship; Darth Vader x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: Newly appointed Emperor Vader, has been hassled about getting married and producing an heir. Whilst having a meeting with Admiral Piett he meets his second in command’s daughter, Y/n.

Series Warnings: Age difference, forced marriage, eating disorders, postpartum depression, suicide attempt, toxic relationship, smut, angst, pregnancy, darth vader is not only a massive creep but also an asshole, referenced suicide

Chapter Warning: N/A

Chapter Summary: The moment Y/n has been dreading; The wedding

(GIF in no way correlates to the readers skin tone)

“This is ridiculous, could I not have been allowed an extra half hour of sleep?” You stare unamused towards your tutor, who simply shrugged their shoulders and resumed their explanation “You’ve been practically hammering into my head how the ceremony is going to occur, do I really need to hear it once more?”

“Miss Piett..” The tutor sighs, pinching the bridge of their nose “In just a few short hours you will be married to the most powerful man in the Galaxy, and not only that, but you will become the most powerful woman in the Galaxy…I will continue to explain up until you are about to step into the carriage” You shook your head, knowing there was no point in arguing “Now…After your vows have taken place you will….” You chose to ignore what they were saying, instead opting to look at each portrait you passed “Oh maker would you look at the time! You’re meant to be in the dressing room”

With an internal groan you followed your tutor down the long corridors, occasionally catching a few cuss words escaping their pursed lips as they made their way towards your bridal suite. You’d been dreading this since the moment you woke up, knowing that by the time you entered the double doors there was definitely no getting out of this mess. “…We are on a tight schedule…” The tutor mutters, fingers resting on their chin as they seem deep in thought “Wedding is in the late afternoon, no afterparty as they both leave for Naboo straight away where the consummation is to occur…” You only heard tidbits of what was being uttered, though the thought of consummating your marriage with Vader loomed over you like a dark cloud

“Miss Piett?” A maid asks, stepping behind you and looking at you “Are you alright?” You blink a few times, turning to face her and giving her a soft wavering smile

“Yes..” Looking back towards the mirror, you cringe inwardly at the sight before you. When you thought of your surprise wedding dress, you never imagined a frumpy pile of fabric practically drowning you, the lace cuff sleeve rubbed against your skin uncomfortably with each small movement, and the puffs that lay on your shoulders caused the fabric to cling to your sweating skin “I’m fine” You blinked back tears

This didn’t look like a wedding dress, this was something only dolls wore.

“Careful!” The tailor snapped, eyeing your movements like a hawk “You nearly stepped on the train” You quickly turned to look behind you, and sure enough there was a train, at least thirty feet of fabric bunched behind you

“Miss, hold still” A cold hand pressed against your chin as they continued to apply a bit of rouge to your cheeks and then moved on to applying a sticky gloss to your lips “Almost done..” She mutters to herself “There” She smiles, taking a step away from you to admire her work “You look beautiful”

You turned to the mirror, holding back a look of disappointment at what you saw before you; This- this girl wasn’t you, this girl is a future empress, you are not a future empress, you’re meant to be out there in the world, acting, hanging out with what little friends you had, going out and getting blackout drunk because that is what nineteen year olds are doing these days, people these days aren’t getting married to someone old enough to be their parent and ruling a galaxy.

Where had you gone wrong..?

“Miss Piett?” A young boy, around your age, peeks his head around the corner, he stares for a moment or two before the tailor gets annoyed and clears their throat and breaks him from his trance “Oh! Uhm, Miss Piett, the carriage is ready” He steps forward, giving you a small and awkward bow before rushing off

“Miss” Alicgil steps behind you with a velvet pillow resting on the palm of her hand, she plucks the tiara from its spot and gently places it atop your head, she put the pillow aside and her hands come to rest against your shoulder comfortingly, she looks forward into the mirror “Everything will be okay” But the uneasiness in her expression said anything but and you sighed, holding her hand on your shoulder for a moment before brushing past her

“Wait a minute!” You turn to look at the tailor who steps forward and brandishes a veil “You cannot leave without this” They click their fingers and a few maids move towards you, placing the veil on top of your head and then shoving a bouquet of flowers into your gloved grasp, they step away from you, eyeing you for a moment and then nod to themself “You are ready”

You turn back to the door, taking a deep breath as you slowly start to walk forward, your eyes planted on the ground so as not to embarrass yourself by tripping over.

You watched from the safety of the carriage, eyes widening at the amount of people who stood behind the barricades, waving and chattering excitedly as they caught a brief glimpse of you as the carriage continued towards its destination. A nudge in the ribs from your father and a nod towards the crowd had you waving your hand and putting the brightest smile on “This is your wedding day, Y/n. Do not disappoint me.” He whispered into your ear, your eye twitched slightly but the small movement went unnoticed by Firmus

The tiara placed on your so-called immaculate hairstyle had never felt more heavier as the carriage gradually slowed until it stopped and the door flung open. Flashes from cameras evaded your senses as Firmus climbed out of the carriage first and then extended a hand to help you out

“Thank you. Firmus” You clutched his hand tightly as you clambered out, you stared at him coldly and he shifted uncomfortably but then you plastered on a wide smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you turned towards the red carpeted stairs that led towards the double door, you smiled and waved to the people standing behind the barricades

Firmus slowly led you through the double doors and down the aisle. If it didn’t feel like you were being led to your doom you would’ve been impressed by how beautiful the venue was. But the thought was squashed when you looked up and realised Vader was standing at the end, he had yet to turn and look at you, but you knew he could sense your presence as his mask tilted slightly before turning back

“Hello.”

“Hello.” Firmus guided your hand into Vaders who took yours gently

Too gently.

The whole wedding droned on and you felt yourself near to falling asleep a couple of times, but the gentle grip Vader had on your hand would tighten slightly to keep you grounded.

“Kneel, my wife” Vader spoke, he leaned slightly helping you get comfortable on the carpet as he turned away momentarily before returning with a beautifully intricate gold and sapphire crown resting on his palms “Under the gaze of the maker I crown you; Y/n, Empress of the Skyriver Galaxy. May the force be with you” He placed the crown on your head and an eruption of cheers reverberated throughout the venue as people stood from their respective seats and applauded the newly married couple

TAGLIST: @mariamyousef702

#darth vader x reader #emperor darth vader #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader series

79 notes · View notes