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diedicontroversial · 1 month

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[discourse] in defiance of the author’s wishes (re: mxtx fandom)

table of contents : context : moral arguments : addressing the legal side of things : closing remarks

Context

on March 17, 2018, mxtx posted:

“As long as you don't split or reverse the top/bottom positions of the main couple, I won't mind what you ship. I myself have a lot of fun shipping couples in mainstream shows, and isn't reading all about finding joy? You can imagine freely or ship whoever you like, just don't break up or reverse the top/bottom positions of the main couple.”

(I realise that the 不拆不逆 “no splitting or reversing” rule might be implicit within the entire Chinese danmei fandom, so i do not wish to single mxtx out. for example, i know that Chinese 2ha fans also go around policing people who ship, say, chu wanning with shi mei — so this isn’t just a mxtx thing. although i do not know if other danmei authors have explicitly stated “no splitting or reversing” since i have not been a part of other danmei fandoms.)

Nevertheless, “no splitting or reversing” became the constitution in Chinese mxtx fandom. Fans parade around with the slogan “拆逆死“ which means “kill yourself if you split or reverse”. Since the pronunciation of 拆逆死 (chai-ni-si) sounds like “chinese”, some fans on the Chinese internet have been putting “chinese” in their bios to mean “kill yourself if you split or reverse”.

From now on I will be referring to split/reverse ships as cult ships, as Chinese fans like to call them.

There are two main consequences of the “no splitting or reversing” rule (on the Chinese internet):

You will receive permanent bans with no option for appeal if you post cult ship fanworks in the novel communities on Weibo

It is implicitly agreed upon that you are not allowed to use individual character tags, the novel tag, or the author tag when posting cult ship content on any platform. So, for example, if you write Wei Wuxian x Jiang Cheng, you are not allowed to use #weiwuxian #jiangcheng #mdzs #mxtx. The name given to this conduct of tagging only your cult ship is 圈地自萌, which means “enclose a piece of land and amuse oneself within it”. You are not allowed to step out of your land.

However, not everyone agrees with the practice of “don’t step out of your land” — this includes people from both sides of the debate. Some official shippers believe that cult shippers should not have any land to begin with, and purposefully leave the cult ship tag unblocked so they can police cult shippers at every opportunity. Some cult shippers believe that because their ship involves the individual characters, originate from the novel written by the author, they are in the right to use the individual character tags, the novel tag, and the author tag, and that people who dislike their ship should just use the block function.

Moral Arguments

There are two main types of moral arguments that Chinese official shippers make.

1. If you split the official ship, you condone cheating behaviour and that makes you a bad person.

The first argument is too trivial so I will leave the refutation as an exercise for the reader to do at home /j

2. You are not respecting the author's wishes and that makes you a bad person.

The author has wished many different things. For example:

Screenshot 1 translation: I strictly forbid any crowdfunding or fundraising related to me, my works, or my characters, regardless of the purpose, whether it be for celebration, group buying, rankings, charity, or any other named activities.

Screenshot 2 translation: Once again, I emphasize: No new social media pages related to my works are allowed, nor organizing readers in a roundabout way, whether it be for celebrations, group buying, rankings, charity, or any other named activities. Please also refrain from flamboyantly organizing any collective birthday events.

Screenshot 3 translation: I've repeated many things many times and do not wish to repeat myself. Could everyone please just listen to my words occasionally.

(A brief aside before I address the second argument, something I used to say when debating Chinese fans: “I don’t think people who violate the author's wishes mean any disrespect. I don’t think they’re shipping or hosting charity events or birthday parties out of spite, but rather, it just so happens that the author prohibits a ship they enjoy or an event they organise. Just because I cult ship, for example, doesn’t mean I hate the author.” And they would respond: “if you really liked the author, you wouldn’t go against her wishes. You do not deserve to like the author. You are a mxtx anti.” And I would say, “I like my mom a lot, but I won’t listen to everything she says, simply because I don’t think everything she says is right. Plus, I don’t think the world can simply be explained by like vs. dislike. Also, Xie Lian said this: [For instance, if you admire or like someone, you won't always treat them well, no matter what happens.]” But then the most hilarious thing happened, in the revised version, a rebuttal for that scene was added:

【”For instance, if you admire or like someone, it doesn't mean you will always treat them well, regardless of what happens."

"Why not?" San Lang questioned. "If that's not possible, it only shows that this so-called 'liking' isn't anything significant."

Xie Lian shifted the conversation, asking, "Then... does it mean that aside from liking someone, the only other option is to dislike them? Are these the only two attitudes one can choose from?"

San Lang chuckled and retorted, "Why not? Right is right, wrong is wrong. To love is to love, to hate is to hate. Why can't things be clear and straightforward?”】

… ah.)

To address the second argument for real, i believe that producers retain no moral authority over the methods by which consumers engage with their products. for instance, i believe that choosing not to follow the official “twist, lick, and dunk” method when eating oreos does not constitute disrespect towards the oreo brand. Or to use another analogy, suppose a farmer selling apples insist that you peel the apples before eating them. I believe that it does not make you a bad person if you choose to eat the apples unpeeled, despite the farmer being the one who watered and harvested the apples from their trees.

I am thinking of potential counterarguments, and the strongest one I came up with is: “but products like oreos and apples are fundamentally different from intellectual property.” And I think the main issue here is that, to employ economics terminology, the content of novels like tgcf is a non-rivalrous good (not the novels themselves but the abstract content), which means that my consumption of it does not reduce availability to others. In other words, unlike Oreos or apples wherein after I purchase them, the specific items I bought are no longer physically in the hands of the vendor; after encountering characters like Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu still exists abstractly in MXTX’s head. This gives the illusion of ownership on the author’s part. I want to be very careful here because I think it’s easy to equivocate between different uses of the word “ownership”. I am not arguing that the author fails to retain ownership in negation of all the blood, sweat, and tears that went into the creative process, i.e. their copyright. Instead, I am contending that, just as I paid for my Oreos and apples, upon my purchasing of the Seven Seas version, the paperback Chinese version, and the revised uncensored version of TGCF on JJWXC, the author does not own the ways by which I choose to engage with these fictional entities. Once a work is made public, its ontology becomes independent of the author’s intent, and in all its readers’ heads exist distinct versions of the characters, in effect making them belong to all of us.

(There. As a bonus I have also resolved the issue of not being “chinese” enough. Ah, is this a bad place to make a communism joke?)

Addressing the legal side of things

In 2022 I wrote to the legal team at AO3, and here is their response:

Regarding the “moral rights”, that’s actually a thing. Upon receiving lots of spam from 12-yr-old readers that “you are breaking the law”, I did a quick Baidu search (China’s Google) concerning the legality of splitting/reversing ships. Surprisingly, the search results yield “yes, it’s illegal”, and hence the 12-yr-olds' confidence. But that is akin to getting a cancer diagnosis from searching symptoms on Google. So I dug deeper.

After reading tens of published papers and court cases, here are the key takeaways of what I found:

Given that intellectual property rights are a bit behind in China, they have largely based their laws on US copyright law. As organizations like OTW continue to fight for the rights of transformative works in the US, China probably will just follow suit.

The semantics of “distort, mutilate, or otherwise harm the integrity of their works in a way that harms the author’s reputation” is very vague and debatable. There are at least three ways to interpret it (I think one of the papers I read offered four). The first is that they only have to prove that you distorted the integrity of the work. The second is that you satisfy the condition of harming the author’s reputation. The third is that you satisfy both conditions (integrity of work and author’s reputation). It depends on the court.

None of the court cases pertained to unserious, just-for-fun fan works. Usually what happens is someone makes a film out canon, for example, and sell it for profit, or someone publishes their own novel which contains characters from another published work.

And that is for China only^ if you live outside of China, you are under another country's jurisdiction.

Closing remarks

I am addressing this issue because it has impacted me and my friends in many ways. "kill yourself if you split/reverse the official ship" is probably the least of our concerns, mainly because it is such a popular phrase that we've become desensitized to it. @/Eleven receives private messages on Lofter on a weekly basis of people wishing her entire family to get murdered. A hualian main friend of mine has been posted to Weibo for following me; and I had to pull a Shi Qingxuan with "hey let's not be friends anymore if being associated with me is gonna get you cancelled".

mxtx has been through a lot and i understand where she's coming from. and maybe, the people who identify as "kill yourself if you split/reverse the official ship" don't truly mean it -- maybe they're just expressing their love for the official ship.

Recently i've been seeing the sentiments I used to only witness in Chinese fandom surface on Twitter and sometimes I worry that western mxtx fandom is going to turn into Chinese mxtx fandom, with the in-group/out-group mentality -- you're either with us or against us. At the end of the day, I do like mxtx, I admire her tenacity and I think she's a brilliant author, I love her works and the characters in them. I simply do not want to be backed into the corner of "anti" due to not following every order she gives.

祝墨香和她的粉丝们平安。

#mxtx #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #mdzs #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #svsss #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #discourse

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atskiruma · 5 months

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Chatty Medic

expl: after meeting and patching up Soap on a dangerous mission, simon takes an interest in your conversational personality during your service

a/n: hi, second person writing, gender-neutral reader, mw2 settings, reader is implied to be a little short, sfw, reader is mentioned to have hair, 1,855 words

When you were first approached by your sergeant about loading onto the Spec-Gru plane to assist an injury, it was definitely nerve-wracking at first. To be on board with immensely important generals, lieutenants and captains was a scary thought with how low ranking you were in the medical field. Nonetheless, you obliged and with your medic bag in hand you began to board the ship.

The first thing you saw as you descended up the stairs of the military plane was Captain Price standing at the top with a smile. You had known Price previously when he visited the medic facility and was nice enough to start a short conversation with you. His eyes grinning as he greeted you stepping onto the plane.

"It's good to see you," He spoke, "I'm sorry that this request is so short notice, if we'd known the medic we usually had was already boarded on another plane I would of already notified you."

You smiled at his kind gesture, "No problem, I'm glad to help." In response, he smiled a little more.

"Great, just follow me, he's down here." Price spoke while turning to make his way through the plane. Following him closely, you couldn't see much with his tall stature blocking the view, but nevertheless you examined what you could beside you. Being as this was your first time in such an expensive and high-class aircraft, the numerous equipment was fascinating.

Finally making it into the main compartment, Captain Price stepped out of the way to give you view of the problem. 11 people sat on each side of the plane while 1 laid in the middle on a stretcher. A couple of the members looked towards the 2 people entering and the eye-contact made you a little nervous.

"Sergeant Soap, or Johnny, was hit by a bullet near his torso." Price said as you watched Johnny lift a weak hand in the air comically. You nodded at his words and walked towards Soap laying on the stretcher. A couple more eyes followed your movement but you kept yours set straight.

"Hello Johnny, how are you?" You spoke softly as you set your bag down and began to put gloves on for the procedure. He smiled up at you and spoke, "Doing well, until now, you?"

Smiling at his little joke, you spoke, "Fine, until now, but once we get you all fixed I'll be feeling a lot better." Giving him a soft smile before turning to adjust your tools. Soap also smiled bigger when you spoke such kind words to him.

As you began fixing up his wound and cleaning the blood, conversation began to start between the two of you. Although it wasn't common in the medical field, you enjoyed talking to whomever you were helping.

"You're quite talkative for a medic." Johnny stated as you were threading the sutures in his stomach. Without looking away at your work, you spoke, "Well wouldn't you wanna get to know the person digging into your skin right now?" He blinked a bit at your words before laughing, "You're not wrong!" Little did you know a second pair of eyes was peering in on this conversation as you were having it.

This calm atmosphere continued until you were finished and the plane had finally reached it's destination at the Army Facility. While most of the members in the ship started to get up and leave, you stayed behind to organize all the tools you used for Johnny's injury.

The sound of footsteps behind you stopped your task and forced you to look, seeing two men standing behind you, Captain Price and another man with a ghost mask. Price spoke up first,

"Thank you again for the service, I'll make sure to note your superior of what a good job you did just now." His smile was calming to look at, and you could tell why this man was given the role of Captain just by his serenity. The man in the ghost mask however just continued to stare you directly in the eyes without saying a word. His presence seemed heavy and dominating as he didn't blink nor look away.

Giving Price a smile and a few quick glances at the ghost-masked man, you nodded your head and spoke, "I appreciate it, sir. Feel free to request me anytime." After that, both men left the plane and you followed shortly after to head back to the office.

When you were approached for the second time by your sergeant about helping another high-ranking officer, you didn't expect it to be the notorious staring masked gentleman from last time. It had been a couple weeks since you had taken on the big role of helping Spec-Gru and since then you haven't given it much thought.

Until now, when you walked out of the office and into the medic hall, seeing the tall, frightening man sitting on one of the small medic beds. Nurses passing by gave him glances as he sat staring at the floor, others turned towards each other and fawned over him.

Putting on your best smile, you walked over and greeted him. "Hello, how are you?" You spoke, watching as his eyes lifted to look at yours and continued to stare for a while. Clearly not a talker, you stated in your mind. Blinking and reaching for the clipboard placed on the small table next to the bed, you continued, "It's okay if you're not up for speaking, almost everything I need to know is here anyways."

After reading his file, you smiled again and looked at him, he was already staring at you before you spoke, "It's nice to see you again Simon, I know we met a while back when I patched up your friend Johnny." His eyes never left yours as you tried to spark a conversation between the two of you. Nonetheless, it wasn't sparking at all, it was more like trying to start a fire in the rain than anything.

Deciding you'd have to talk for the both of you, you continued to chat with him about little things. How the weather was, wondering what they'd be serving at lunch for today, if he enjoyed the lunches they did serve here. Fortunately, he wasn't deaf, because when you asked for him to lift his sleeve in order to see the damage he obliged.

"That must of hurt," You said as you tightened your gloves and held his arm with one hand while picking around the wound with the other. "I know that you're not much of a talker Simon but if anything I ever do hurts feel free to pull away in order to show me."

This one-sided chat continued on for 30 minutes as you assessed the damage and patched him up, frequently sharing little bits of your life to keep the fixing process less boring. Just as you finished you decided to speak again, "Feeling better? Anything else you need from me?" Simon looked at you and shook his head, finally speaking with a rough British accent, "No, thank you." Was all he said before he stood up and left the wing.

The interaction was odd, but not too odd, because you could tell while he definitely wanted a large wall between him and strangers, he kept a very respectful manner regardless.

You saw Simon again on Sunday, when last time you saw him was Tuesday. He was back at the medical center again and requested your service as well. When told he was waiting in the wing for you, you put on your best smile and approached him again. This time, his eyes were staring straight at the hall you were coming from before you turned the corner.

"Hello Simon, it's good to see you again, how are you doing?" You spoke as you smiled at him and turned to grab some gloves to put on. This time, he responded.

"Doing fine, thank you." His gruff voice spoke out, a small smile made its way onto your face at his response.

"I'm glad, I'm sorry you're hurting today but I promise to do my best to fix that." You tried to soothe the possible ache he was feeling somewhere and comfort his worries if he had any at the same time.

Simon nodded at your words and stared at you as you examined the clipboard with his problem. A small gash in the arm, simple. You then proceeded to explain the type of ointment you were gonna use to numb the pain and pressed to advise you if it hurt anywhere.

Again, you started to speak of plain conversation starters and this time Simon either nodded or actually blinked when you spoke towards him. Progress is progress, you told yourself as you finished bandaging his upper arm and making sure no other injuries were present.

Seeing as he requested for you twice when aiding an injury, you began to wonder if he was enjoying your little chats. Deciding not to get ahead of yourself, you told him he was all better and wished him a goodbye on his way out.

Thursday rolled around and you were again, called to go check up on Simon in the medical wing. This time around though he seemed more interactive than usual. When you first stepped out of the hall and walked towards him, he spoke before you.

“I like what you did with your hair today.” He said, as he stared directly into your eyes. The compliment shocked you but nevertheless you smiled anyways and replied,

“Thanks! I tried something different today. What seems to be the probl-“

He interrupted you before you could finish, “You should wear it like that more often.” His eyes continued to hold yours as the awkwardness set in from his words.

“You think?” You spoke, as you lifted a hand up to twirl a piece around your fingers. “It wasn’t that difficult to do,” You continued, “Maybe I will, if I see you sometime this week I’ll make sure to wear it like this.”

Your eyes followed to the table next to bed, expecting to see a clipboard but instead it was empty. “That’s odd..” You trailed off, “Did nobody examine you before you came in?”

Turning to him again, for the first time since you met him he avoided eye contact. “Simon?” You questioned as he kept looking towards the ground.

“M’ not injured.” He mumbled, still avoiding your eyes. Your eyebrow rose as you held a concerned look on your face from his sudden change in personality. Instead of speaking, you waited to see if he’d continue his reasoning.

“Was wondering if you wanted to do something, sometime.” He spoke, giving you a quick glance here and there. Your confusion was still evident on your face. “Never done this before, think you’re pretty.”

“Oh,” was all you said as your cheeks dusted a light pink color. Simon looked as if he was trying his best at the proposal, so you tried to ease the stress. “I’d love to, when are you free?”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #modern warefare ii #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #atskiruma

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tanoraqui · 4 months

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obviously the Historical Figure Episode(TM) of Doctor Who that I’d write would of the Noted Author subset endemic to the RTD Era; it’d be called “Spiders in the Trenches” and be set in the middle of World War One ft. one Lt. John Tolkien.

idk if the main aliens are spiders or if they're just using giant robotic spiders as soldier-minions. Either way, Tolkien is a little too defensive when he says he's not afraid of spiders.

The alien invaders want some sort of shiny mcguffin, maybe as a power source for their ship? Or for a mega-weapon? We do not want them to get it, at any rate. Race to find the Shiny Power Jewel-Thing which has been lost somewhere in this like 20-mile radius of the Western Front.

When our heroes narrowly beat the spiders to the SPJT, Tolkien realizes that the spiders only ever attack at night because light hurts them somehow, so he holds the SPJT up as it flares and shouts, "Get back, foul creatures! Back into the shadows from whence you came!"

(They're from the dark side of a tidally locked planet, and made for extremely low-light conditions? The SPJT flares because it's controlled telepathically and it connected to Tolkien's mind when he touched it?)

Ideally Tolkien's first encounter with the Doctor is that he wakes up in the trench one day (after losing some men to a mysterious monster in the darkness a couple nights ago?), and there's 2 random strangers in weird clothes idly singing and playing an instrument which they stole from someone a couple bedrolls down. (This works well with Fifteen & Ruby's established inclination to music!)

We do need an Eowyn Moment, because that's iconic, but I'd split it: for dialogue, at one point the head boss evil alien boasts, "No human can defeat the Tenebrarachnid Empire!" and the Doctor replies, "Good thing they've got me, then."...

[I don't know if this is a Fifteen line yet. I know it's a very Eleven line]

...and there's a soldier in Tolkien's unit who is revealed to be secretly a woman! Who disguised herself as a man in order to enlist for ??? reasons, and who dramatically pulls off her hat to reveal her long hair.

The third notable local character is the sort who inspired Sam Gamgee, "...the English soldier, [like] the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.”

^those two can have a romantic subplot if it fits (comrades-in-arms is also extremely good). Tolkien, however, at some point shows Ruby the picture of his wife Edith which he carries at all times, she of the black hair and bright grey eyes, and is obviously ready to monologue about how wonderful she is.

In the same scene(?), Tolkien looks up at the stars and says their brightness shining afar, clear of all the horrors on the ground, is always a source of hope and strength to him.

Maybe also in the same scene? Tolkien is shown to make up stories for fun, or to read them in his little spare time - fairy tales and mythological epics. Maybe he tells them to the men around the fire, maybe he keeps a little notebook, maybe he just admits to daydreaming... When asked why, he paraphrases his quote from later life, " Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?"

At some point (Star-watching scene? when the Doctor inevitably has to explain that aliens exist? when they're all saying goodbye in the end?) there's a line drawing attention to the Doctor's parallels with Eärendil - eternally wandering figure of hope, sailing the stars in a ship with a light on top, not quite mortal...

Tolkien DEFINITELY tries to figure out the alien language, in writing or speech.

Something the aliens are doing is making people sick. Maybe the attacking robo-spiders are venomous, maybe there's a toxic byproduct of the alien ship, maybe it's a deliberate first assault of the planned invasion... By the end of the episode, Tolkien is very ill. The Doctor has figured out an antidote and given it, but Tolkien says goodbye to him and Ruby only to stumble to a medical outpost - from where, the Doctor explains to Ruby, he'll be sent home with this bad case of what's assumed to be trench fever. Between the fever and the brief psychic entanglement, and unentanglement, with the SPJT, he won't even remember most of this, and what he does remember, he'll put down to fever dreams amidst the horrors of war.

But he'll remember some things! He'll remember an eternal wanderer of the stars, unaging and undying and ever-hopeful, heralded by light (and a vworrrp vrorrrp noise).

#doctor who #JRR Tolkien #ficlet #my fic

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mokulule · 6 months

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Almanac - Chapter 3

Been a while since I uploaded something. Had some real busy weeks, got sick on top, just all sorts of annoyances. Tbh this has been done for a while but I was contemplating where to split this chapter, and finally decided here, which means it was done.

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) First | Masterlist

Chapter 3 - 12th October, Full Hunter’s Moon

Danny was still angry and frustrated at what the Justice League had made him do, when they could have just asked Phantom, but now at least he was calm, centered.

He breathed in deep, tasting the ectoplasm, not with lungs or tastebuds but with his core. It was quite amazing what a week of intense meditation could do for the Realms. It made him feel a bit guilty that he’d prioritized living over his duties so much, but well, for the foreseeable future he would have plenty of time to play king.

The millennia of stagnation from Pariah’s imprisonment and the time before that of Pariah’s betrayal when the power had gone to his head, had not done great things for the health of the realms. Danny was slowly but steadily changing that.

It was certainly easier to focus on than the fact that he had been summoned as the freaking Ghost King to do something he’d been on the way to deal with, locking him into a deal. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them he’d already been on the way there.

If only they had been a little bit less desperate - a little slower in their setup, all this could have been avoided.

All this power - he breathed in - the Realms’ energy, his to command and shape, infinite, still heavy with Pariah’s madness, but getting better, more colorful, lighter the more he channeled it through his core. All this power and yet, or rather because of that, he was bound by rules.

There were laws governing creatures such as him, such as Clockwork and Pandora: Ancients. Danny chuckled, it was still ridiculous to think of himself as such, he was after all only seven years dead. But as Clockwork said it wasn’t so much a matter of time as it was a matter of power.

Danny had already been powerful. Halfas, because of their still living nature, were naturally inclined to change and gaining power at a rate full ghosts didn’t. Danny having died as a teen while going through puberty (a big change in itself) allowed for exceptional power growth. Coupled with the stressful environment where he fought for his half-life weekly if not daily he had been on the fast track to become an ancient before he hit fifty.

Becoming the de facto Ghost King on his eighteenth birthday stopped that in a way. After a bout of panicked confusion things had stabilized, especially after the coronation made things all official. Danny’s power growth had slowed. It would be quite some time before Danny would be considered an ancient on his own merits now, which was just fine by him. On the flip side becoming Ghost King had made him an ancient by job description.

“Hard at work I see.”

“Clockwork,” Danny greeted, blinking open his eyes. His mentor smiled back at him from an old face that rapidly morphed younger.

“Your Majesty,” Clockwork greeted in return with a flourishing bow in the air.

Danny grimaced. “Really, Clockwork?”

“But that is what you are for the foreseeable future, is it not?”

Danny looked away, biting his lip. Indecision warred inside him, but in the end he couldn’t help but look back up and ask, “will it work?”

Warm amusement shone in the red eyes. “As long as you’re careful, this is not an easy path you’ve decided on.”

Danny scoffed. “How could I not? It was the only thing I could think of.”

“You don’t have any obligation.”

“Clockwork, I took a man from his family, their grief is paying for my assistance. I never-“ his own grief and revulsion rose up in a wave, he felt as if he would drown.

“I didn’t ask for this.” The words were choked out and small.

Clockwork opened his arms and Danny rushed forward into the embrace. He held on desperately, as a sob wrenched through his chest. So much for his calm and meditation. A hand brushed through his hair beneath where the crown floated.

“Having a kind heart is not an easy thing for a king.”

“I wanted them to hurt too though, for putting me in that situation,” Danny admitted quietly.

“Mhmm, a very human emotion.”

Danny flinched, but Clockwork continued running his hand through his hair undeterred.

“And did you let this emotion affect your decision?”

“No, of course not. The world needed saving, that was the most important.”

“Then I don’t see what else you could have done, my King.” Danny sighed, letting it go and letting the steady tick tock of the seconds counted by Clockwork’s chest calm him down.

“In any case there’s no changing the past,” Danny announced with forced cheer as he pushed away.

Clockwork promptly bonked him on the head with his staff and he yelped.

“A hard earned lesson.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.” Danny grumbled rubbing at his head. It was barely a tap, but it still smarted. “I just can’t help but wonder, you know? They thought I was a city spirit, Clockwork! If I could just change that misconception.”

“How about you focus on the present instead, hmmm? Could there maybe be something you’ve forgotten?”

“Forgotten?” Danny felt a curl of worry in his gut.

“mmhmmm,” Clockwork hummed in agreement.

Danny wracked his brain, but simply couldn’t figure out what he’d forgotten.

“How is that new pet of yours?”

“Pet?! I don’t have- Wait, you don’t mean Jason? He’s a human, not a pet! Really, Clockwork.” Danny turned away, disgruntled at Clockwork, both for calling Jason a pet and also because thinking of Jason brought all that he’d done right back up to the surface.

“And how is the human?”

“I don’t know, okay,” Danny huffed. “I haven’t seen him. But I’m sure he’s fine, he’s a big boy and I gave him free rein of the castle.”

“The semi-sentient castle that responds to your mood?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Fuck.”

Oo o oO

“Jason!” A voice yelled frantically. There were hands on him shaking him. He blinked open his eyes, not quite focused and suddenly there were green eyes and cold gloved hands on his cheeks.

“Oh good, you’re alive.” There was a lot of relief in that voice.

Jason pushed away and the hands let him. He was normally faster to wake than this, but he must have really been woken up at the wrong time. He felt immensely tired. With a yawn he sat himself up. It took him a moment to comprehend the figure floating cross-legged inches off the bedspread; fluffy white hair and dark brows worried over green eyes, dark clothing, white gloves and a floating nebulous cape behind him that was like a rare view of the night sky. It was the burning crown that finally cut through the haze with a shot of fear through his system.

He moved back, away, until his back hit the headboard. His ears hurt in phantom pain and his eyes flickered searching for signs that the king was angry, but he seemed surprisingly solid, human except for the obvious glowing and floating. Also that was not anger, it was worry and pain and… sadness?

“It seems I have more things to apologize for than I realized.”

Jason met his eyes then and at that moment he just looked tired and sad. He reached a hand out to Jason.

“Will you join me for breakfast?”

Jason didn’t take the hand.

Eventually the king grimaced and looked away. “If you’d rather eat alone that’s also fine, but I think I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

“Okay,” Jason finally answered hesitantly.

“Okay?”

“Okay I’ll join you for breakfast.” Still, instead of taking the offered hand, Jason got out on his own on the other side of the bed. He felt a bit wobbly as he got to his feet but he refused to show any more weakness.

This time as they walked and floated respectively along the hallways there were windows. If the view was to be believed it was still night, clear and starry, with a full moon.

The king noticed him looking and floated over to a window looking out. His white starlight hair moved in a non existent wind and something in his expression softened.

“It is always a clear night sky here. The stars move with the seasons in the living realm matching the northern hemisphere. It is a way for me to tell time. It’s easy to loose track here otherwise.”

Jason would believe that, he’d already lost track of time.

“How long have I been here?”

The king hunched his shoulders. “It’s been thirteen days since the equinox. It is lucky you are as liminal as you are or you would be in a worse state.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you are to some degree feeding on the energy that make up the Realms, like a ghost would.” The king sighed and turned around.

“So first apology. I had thought I gave you freedom to explore but I forgot to take into account that the castle is semi-sentient and responds to my mood, and my mood haven’t been the best.” His face darkened and it was like the hallway itself got darker and more cramped. Jason’s heart beat fast in his chest, he couldn’t focus on that, he wanted to step backwards, but he couldn’t let fear control him. He had to focus on something else.

“You forgot your castle is magical?” Jason asked, putting as much disbelief into the tone as he could force through his tight throat.

The oppressiveness disappeared, but now the King just looked tired again. “I have been king for two years, Jason, of which I still spent most of the time haunting my hometown. But still I should have realized, so I’m sorry.”

He seemed truthful, but still-

“Two years?” Jason asked weakly, that was no time at all and it was so little compared to what Jason had imagined, compared to what he suspected anyone imagined.

“Yeah, which leads into the second apology. I am in many ways still getting used to the power that comes with the position. I get a bit hard on mortal senses if I’m not careful with my emotions, your liminality protects you some, but,” the King flew closer and hovered so they were at eye height, Jason stiffened. “I was upset and I hurt you. I should have controlled myself better and now you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Jason, I can taste your fear.”

A spike of fear shot through him and he gave in and stepped back. The king just gazed at him sadly.

“Again, I’m sorry.” He looked for a moment as if he wanted to say something more, but then his shoulders fell and he turned around. “The kitchen is this way.”

The drapes by the windows somehow seemed disappointed in Jason and when he stood still too long without following his section of the hallway tilted. He quickly stepped forward so he wouldn’t overbalance and followed the king - before the castle decided more drastic measures were needed.

Oo o oO

When Jason had imagined what it meant to join the king for breakfast, he wasn’t sure what he’d imagined. But it certainly wasn’t to be seated at a plain wooden table with benches in a medieval looking kitchen with what looked like a glowing, green skinned lunch lady complete with pink dress, hairnet and gloves.

“Thank you for coming with such short notice,” the king addressed the lunch lady from where he was seated across from Jason.

“Oh, it is no problem sweetie,” she replied in a kind voice as she set down a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of each of them. “Growing boys needs lots of protein. And you are still much too skinny.”

Jason watched in fascination as the king rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. It was such a human gesture.

“Yeah I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for me to do more growing.”

“Not all growing is physical, dear. Cookie?”

The sudden subject change was enough to give Jason whiplash. But the king seemed to almost expect it from his fond smile.

“You’re right of course. And yes, if you’re willing, we’d love a cookie each.”

The old lady chuckled and procured two chocolate chip cookies seemingly from nowhere. She put them down on two separate plates.

“Kingship suits you, Phantom, you’ve gotten much more polite.” There was something there, a history Jason could only begin to guess at.

“You can thank Dora’s lessons for that.”

“The dragon princess? I will be sure to remember. But I must go now, you take care boys.”

Dragon princess? It was like Jason had walked into a storybook.

They ate for a while in silence as Jason contemplated the scene he’d just watched. The king, or Phantom, Jason remembered now he’d also called himself that, seemed very young. He looked to be around Jason’s age, but of course that didn’t necessarily mean anything since he was a ghost, but he had said he had only been king for two years.

“So you eat,” Jason said just to get a conversation going.

“I can eat, but I don’t have to. Especially not here in the Realms.”

“And me? You said I absorb some energy here because I’m liminal? What does that mean?”

“It means that your spirit, your soul, whatever you wanna call it, hasn’t entirely forgotten how to be dead. But you’re not a proper ghost, so you can’t entirely feed on just the energy here.”

“So if I had never died?”

“This wouldn’t even be an option. I would never take a fully living here for long, they would be driven mad.”

Jason looked down at his food and continued eating, it was delicious and doubly more so because he was starving.

It wasn’t long before Phantom stood up.

“Thank you for indulging me. I won’t force my company on you any longer. The castle shouldn’t give you as much trouble as before - it is not meant to be a prison for you.” He seemed to say the last more to the room than Jason, there was a stern almost admonishing edge.

He was starting to leave and Jason felt a sudden urgency in his chest. This was the first interaction he’d had with anyone in what was apparently nearly two weeks. The loneliness and inactivity loomed like a beast.

“No, wait!”

Phantom turned halfway back. “Did you need anything else?”

“You can’t just leave me with no purpose! I need stuff to do or I will grow mad,” Jason pleaded.

“I don’t-“ Phantom frowned, he made a resigned movement with his hands. “Well, what do you like to do?”

“I-“ And suddenly that line of questioning felt way too intimate and personal. Jason settled for “I like to fight.”

There was something almost disappointed in the king’s gaze that grated in Jason’s chest. He sighed.

“I should have figured. Fright Knight.” He raised his voice on the last two words and suddenly from one blink to the next, there was a figure in grey gladiator armor and a flaming purple cape kneeling in front of him.

“My liege, what can I do for you?”

“Our guest-” he indicated Jason, “wishes to spend his time mastering the art of combat and is in need of a worthy sparring partner.”

The fright knight rose and studied Jason, only now did Jason realize he could see nothing but darkness and a pair of eyes inside the helmet.

“He doesn’t look like much.”

“He’s still alive, make sure he stays that way,” the king said absolutely deadpan, before turning and flying off, cape flaring behind him.

- Yay! Jason got something to eat finally. And he's for sure not gonna be bored anymore, so that's something XD

Things are looking up, or?

Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Comments and tags are greatly appreciated. For continuations you can subscribe to the masterpost

#Almanac #dp x dc #dead on main #summonings have consequences

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unholyhelbig · 6 months

Note

Part three of loan shark natty

Title: The Oversight [Part 3/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 3465

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, guns, blood, death, sort of dark nat if you squint, horrible grammar

[A/n: If you guys haven't picked up on it yet, this will be slow-burn. Also, thank you so much for the positive response to this story, it means so much!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

It had been two weeks since the incident that you had deemed ‘the business proposal’, though, if you were being honest, you knew exactly what it was. The bruising against the side of your face, fading from a deep dark purple to an ugly muddy brown reminded you of the encounter. The faster you healed, the more your nerves started to prickle dangerously.

Each time the brass bell above the diner’s door would ring, your eyes would flick to the entrance. With bated breath, you’d study the tired businessman, the English major running on nothing but burnt coffee, or the single mother just looking for some reprieve. Much like yourself.

Clint Barton was the last person you expected and wanted to see. He was certainly the last person you wanted to see, despite the sheepish smile on his face. There was shame etched into his features and a strange softness to his eyes that starkly contrasted the man who had nearly broken your jaw.

His hair was sprinkled with droplets of water, a sweatshirt dotted from the persistent drizzle that seemed to plague the city. He dutifully wiped his feet on the mat and made his way over to you. Instead of his usual booth, Clint sat on the last stool and scratched the stubble on his chin.

He glanced at the menu as if he were going to order something different than his usual. Maybe he wouldn’t order anything at all. But, you had a feeling you weren’t going to escape the conversation at the tip of his tongue, nor the obscenities at the tip of yours.

You poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him without being asked. Clint could swallow down a whole pot of extra caffeinated without a second thought. For now, you urged him to pace himself silently.

“You got a couple of minutes?” He asked behind the rim of his cup.

The diner was mostly empty. It was the middle of the workday and had been a slow four hours thus far. There was only so many times you could wiped down the same table and replace the salt in the shakers.

The cook made eye contact with you as he poured alcohol from his flask into off-brand orange soda. You got a short shrug in response. Otherwise, the place was empty. Clint had timed his arrival perfectly.

“Sure. You’re not going to beat the shit out of me again, are you? Those cameras aren’t hooked up, but this is still a public place.”

“Look, I wanted to apologize for that. Bad information breeds bad reactions. I was doing what I was told. You’ll learn that that’s the only way to get anywhere in this practice.”

He stated it plainly as if you weren’t silently inducted into a criminal ring. You weren’t exactly sure what they did but if it was half as bad as what they’d done to you, it was trouble. Clint could sense your unease. He placed his mug down and lifted a bandaged eyebrow.

“Hold your grudge, y/n. I sure would. Natasha simply told me to collect you after your shift. So, you can sit here and glower at me like a grumpy little monster or you can make conversation and we can become friends.”

You hated how good the second suggestion sounded. He was charming in an annoying type of way. You’d never clicked with anyone in the diner before, certainly not the only other employee that stood behind the grill.

Clint was staring at you like he knew you’d already folded. He covered his smirk with another sip of coffee. You wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his face. He had effectively taken a shot at you, that much was true, but you had crumbled just as easily under Natasha’s wishes.

“Friends is a stretch.” You sounded out.

“Acquaintances, then.”

You conceded with a small nod and Clint smiled in a way that could only be genuine. He swallowed off the rest of his coffee and made small talk with you as you hustled around the restaurant. There was a small rush after classes at the community college let out. But you were able to carry on a conversation, learning a little more about him.

He’d been friends with Natasha for a long time. That much was clear by the way his eyes crinkled along the edges when he’d recall memories that stretched past their current affairs and into childhood.

“We met when we were twelve. I’d just moved to town and was this scrawny, awkward mess of puberty and acne. An easy target is what I’m saying. A lot of neighborhood boys would target me, but I was faster than them. It usually worked in my favor, but there was one day when it had just snowed and it was impossible for me to get any headway.”

Clint regaled you as you filled up his mug for the third time. You lingered behind the counter, chin on your hand as you listened intently.

“Six of them cornered me at a construction site. I didn’t even know how to begin to fight back. I was beaten close to death and then I heard Nat. She ran head-first into danger, tried to take on every single one of them. Of course, she got the shit kicked out of her too, she was just a kid there was no way for her to win. But that didn’t’ matter because she got back up every single time. Eventually they got cold, or bored, probably both.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were impressed. “Shit, that’s quite the meeting.”

“She’s tough, y/n. Not someone you want to fuck with.”

“So, this is a warning, then?” You smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders “A cautionary tale.”

He drove a 1970 Dodge challenger that smelled like cherry leather polish. It was the nicest car you had ever seen, that is, until he pulled up the iron-gated mansion on the outskirts of the city. There was a brilliant view of the harbor, the water a deep and dark blue that seemed endless, an orange sun casting delicious shadows against the docks.

The house was brick, built in a southern style with a large wrap around porch and a stone fountain in the center of a circular gravel drive. It was three stories of decadence, surrounded by large oak trees and the deepest green grass. This was the home of a Politian, or of someone who had one under their thumb.

Three black SUVs were parked in tandem outside. An equally pitch Corvette Stingray was parked directly in front of the steps. You struggled to muffle the thoughts of Natasha in the front seat. The vehicle suited her, and while you most certainly were not a car person, you knew the value of a ride like that.

Clint squirmed with pride, that same smile on his face. It was one that often accompanied him, you’d learn. He took the steps two at a time and waited to open the doors until you’d caught up. He removed his jacket and draped it over the coat rack just by entryway. You, however, were preoccupied by the elegance of the home.

The floor was a checkered black and white, stretching all the way down a corridor to open storm doors, letting in a crisp spring warmth. Light danced against art that cost more than your entire apartment building. White stairs clung to the wall and curved to the second floor. To your left, a dining room. To your right, a living area that had the softest white carpet, and a cream grand piano that your fingers twitched to run over.

There was a sour scent of bleach that reached your nose, and it was only then, did you realize the blood. It was distilled, a quiet pink color, that had been diluted by diligent scrubbing. The girl, the one that was often at Clint’s side herself, was on her knees a few feet away.

She held a scrub brush that looked like the ones used to clean the grout at the diner. Her forehead was damp with sweat, a few stray strands of dark hair falling into stormy gray eyes. The front of her shirt was stained in the majority of the blood. You failed to see how she would have much to clean from the floor. Yet, the bucket of water next to her was a frothy mess of red.

“An hour,” Clint tsked, shaking his head “I left you alone for an hour. I specifically said that I was coming back with a guest, and it was imperative not to freak her out.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

You were absolutely freaked out. But you were quick to realize whose home you were in. The scrubbing of a crime scene was startling, and you wanted to turn tail and run. However, you had seen worse before and your life had been spared once. You weren’t going to get squeamish now.

“You sound freaked out.” Clint turned his attention back to the girl “And its bad manners. If I were the police?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten through the gate.” She stood, dropping the brush into the bucket with a defiant splash. She was taller than you thought, the deep red of her collar harsh against her skin. There was a smile on her lips, and she reached out a hand to you. “I’m Kate.”

“This is y/n and she’s not going to shake that.” Clint batted Kate’s hand away “Who was this?”

Kate rolled her eyes. It was an action that you yourself would never do. Clint may be a bit aloof, but you had seen him in action. Namely when he was three seconds from snapping the bones in your face. She had no fear of him, though. There was a cockiness, a charming attention, to her stance. He didn’t’ seem to mind, or he had gotten so used to her attitude that seeped into him instead.

“I don’t know. Yelena brought them in. If you’re so concerned about the mess, maybe you should take it up with her.” There was a grin that mirrored Clints. She knew she’d won. “I can go get her if you want.”

“No need. Where’s Nat?”

“Out back by the pool. It’s a lovely day.” She leaned close to you, smelling of cleaner, of tin and of the slightest bit of chewed mint. “It’s great to meet you, y/n.”

You were careful not to lose your footing on the slick floors. Clint nudged the bucket with his toe as he walked by, sloshing about the soiled water. Kate cut him a look that only you saw, but it was one that was almost playful. She shook her head and went back to her task.

There were two things you had picked up from the conversation; Clint was afraid of Yelena, and there was somewhere soundproof in this house that she had taken someone that had lost a lot of blood. You shoved both thoughts to the back of your mind when you exited onto the back porch.

Natasha was stretched out like a cat in the sun. She wore a black bikini that left very little to the imagination. You could feel the blush against your cheeks as you averted your eyes to anywhere else, though, you swore she arched her back from the chair at the sound of your footsteps.

Her hair, still slightly damp, was cascading down her shoulders. She wore a pair of sunglasses, a book that was marked halfway through rested on the table next to her. She had clearly given up on reading, instead fully devoting herself to the sun.

Clint didn’t acknowledge her current state, nor did he have an adverse reaction to it. Your mouth was dry, and you shoved your hands into your jeans to keep them from trembling. It was a mix of fear and attraction that caught you off guard on a mostly empty stomach.

She moved her glasses down the expanse of her nose as you approached. Her stare was a startling green, raking across your form. She quirked an eyebrow. The specter of a smile on her face. Clint had noticed something you didn’t, his body language changing into something unreadable.

“y/n,” Natasha purred your name. You fought back a shiver. “You’ve healed nicely.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“ma’am? What manners you have. That’s severely lacking around here.”

Clint rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. You did the same, partly out of fear. But mostly, you were distracted by the scars against her stomach, on her arms and down her back. It wasn’t something you had noticed at first, nor did you permit yourself to stare. Whatever had been done to you when they’d first taken you was nothing compared to what Natasha had been through. Her body told a story, one that you longed to learn.

“Hey sharpshooter,” She turned her attention to Clint “I think Yelena might need your help downstairs. Y/n. Stay.”

It was a clear dismissal, and one that he didn’t’ take lightly. He patted you on the shoulder before entering the house once more. You listened to his footfalls for a few moments, holding your breath until you started to feel your vision falter.

You’d been alone with Natasha before. But this felt different. Heavier. The questions that you’d had these last two weeks were meant to be answered. She gestured for you to sit on the opposite chair, which you did carefully, body tightened to make yourself as small as possible. She removed her glasses entirely, a strand of russet hair falling into her gaze.

“You’re going to quit your job at the diner.” She said.

“I can’t do that,” Your response was automatic.

Natasha sat up, placing her bare feet adjacent to yours. Her knees were pressed against your own. She easily could have pushed your own open and she stared at you as if she contemplated the fact herself. Instead, she lilted her head and peered at you.

“What I mean, ma’am, is that’s my livelihood.”

“Oh, I understand. I wasn’t perfectly clear. You work for me, now. You’re on my payroll. I’m sure it’ll be quite an upgrade.” She leaned closer. “Do you know what I do, y/n?”

You swallowed hard and shook your head. There was an inkling. But it was just speculation. Someone with a home like this had a good handle on business. Natasha certainly conveyed fear, and commanded respect. So did the people who worked for her, willing to take a bullet in moment’s notice.

You weren’t there yet, but you were sure with a little persuasion, you would be. Part of you had felt slighted. They’d pulled you from your life, from your daughter, and threw you into this without any type of explanation.

“The harbor behind you is a center of trade. Whoever controls the harbor controls the city, and for generations my family has had a monopoly when it comes to what comes in and out. There is not a single freight that can dock here without getting past me. Recently, that’s been threatened.”

She sighed and worked a hand through her hair. Her stare flicked past your shoulder, focused on the expanse of water that had been a staple in your life. You’d walk along the docks, chat with the vendors on the way to work. It seemed like a friendly place.

“There are two prominent families in this city, Y/n. The Romanov’s and Danver’s. For the past three years they’ve been pushing back against the real leadership, getting creative. Looking for change. But we simply can’t allow that to happen. Things work as they are.”

You had a feeling that this was the core of her beliefs. Things how they were weren’t so bad. Each person had their own struggles but when it came to integral crime on the streets, in the boroughs, you hadn’t noticed anything and that was the way you liked it. Ignorant, maybe. But it was none of your concern. Not until now.

“A lot of people work for me, but my numbers are dwindling. It’s hard to find good help anymore. You know how it is.”

You didn’t.

“There’s something… in you that I admire. A perseverance to live and protect and you’re going to do exactly that for me.” Natasha stated this plainly. “The Winter Soldier will be predisposed. Not permanently. But I would like you to replace him.”

There must have been disbelief written across your features because Natasha laughed, actually laughed, as your jaw fell open. It was a lovely sound; you must admit. Bucky was well known in the neighborhood. Even without being knee deep in mafia sludge, you had heard of him. You feared him. And the thought of stirring the same reaction seemed unattainable.

“I… what about Clint?” You asked dumbly. He seemed like the natural choice.

“He’s got his hands full with an heiress who, I’m sure you can tell, is a bit aloof. But extremely valuable. Much like yourself.” She quirked an eyebrow “if it’s experience, you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll train you myself.”

She stood and tapped your leg with her fingers, arousal shooting straight to your core at the slight contact. Your body almost refused to move, but you were quick to snap out of it when she smiled wolfishly down at you. “Now, have you ever killed anyone?”

Your voice was pinched. “No.”

“We’ll have to change that, darling.” She started to saunter away, grabbing her silk cover-up from the back of a nearby chair. She slid it over her shoulders, and it hugged her form with just enough ferocity as the bathing suit. “Come, dear. I have just the person in mind.”

The basement was significantly cooler than the rest of the house, bathed by the sun. As you descended the stone steps, you fought the urge to smooth your fingers over your skin to quell the frigid air.

Natasha seemed unbothered. She led you into a large room that you assumed was soundproof. It was a fairly empty room, lit with artificial bulbs that reminded you much of the warehouse they’d kept you in for the weekend. This seemed more malicious though. Not something to extract information exactly. A form of punishment.

A man was strung up from a low hanging rafter, his feet barely touching the ground. Rope was tied around his wrists, his hands above his head. Blood dripped like syrup from his lips, from a wound against his side. His left knee looked unnatural and broken.

You fought back a groan at the sight, at the smell of him. One eye was swollen shut, his fingers curling when he noticed Natasha’s presence.

Clint’s back was to you, his fingers dancing over an array of tools. He hummed a Metallica song, stopping at a pair of pliers. Yelena had her arms crossed over her chest, walking a slow, predatory circle around the man.

“No,” Yelena took the pliers from Clint “He will need his teeth to talk.”

Your throat tightened. This was the same woman who had sat next to your daughter in the diner. The one who had complimented her art and your job at raising her. She was easy to have conversations with, charming in the purest sense.

She turned towards both of you. “Natasha, you shouldn’t wear open toed shoes here. It is unsanitary.”

The woman next to you was not admonished in the slightest. Not by the cold or the harsh words of Yelena. Instead, she studied the man in front of you. He was in rough shape. If he hadn’t talked yet, he wasn’t going to. That much was clear.

This felt like the first time you served without following around an older, more experienced waitress. Your fingers were trembling and there was a wild nervousness that was in the pit of your stomach. Eventually, you learned, and it was second nature. You wondered if that’s what Natasha wanted. For you to learn not to cringe away from things like this. Just like the Winter Soldier.

As if to prove your thought process, Natasha said “Which one of you has your gun?”

They both pulled them out of various places at the same time, without hesitation, to the question. It made sense that Natasha didn’t have a weapon on her, not with the outfit that she walked around in. The cover-up was too tight against her skin, too revealing.

Yelena was closer, so Natasha grabbed the weapon from her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

“I have.”

Your second foster father was a deputy sheriff in Minnesota. On half-frozen nights, he’d return home from the local bar reeking of sour alcohol and sweat. The door to your bedroom would creak open and he’d drag you from bed, barefoot and in your pajamas.

Most of the time, he had cans set up on an old picnic table that had rotted through. At first, it was your job to set the cans back up and fight off hypothermia. But after three or four sleepless nights, he taught you how to shoot. His body was warm against your back and the first time the gun kicked you had nearly broken your nose.

You considered yourself a good shot when it came to cans, wild turkeys, and even the occasional buck. This was different. This was a human being that was taking in heaving breathes and fighting to pull himself up to give his bad knee a break.

“Do you know how to aim?” Natasha asked.

“It’s been years.”

“Okay,” She breathed.

You flinched when she moved behind you. Her warmth was all encapsulating. She smelled of sunscreen, and vaguely of the salt of the ocean. Natasha’s fingers pressed against your hip, giving you a small squeeze, signaling for you to take a step back.

Her other hand dropped the pistol into yours, heavy and warm. Her hand trailed up your arms, giving you goosebumps, fingers tightening around your own until you held the gun towards the man. The stranger.

Natasha’s chin was on your shoulder, her breathe hot against your cheek. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Right there. When you’re ready.”

She’d aimed the tip of the gun directly between his eyes. You could hear your heartbeat in both ears, vibrating through your body. It wasn’t hesitation, exactly. In this moment, it was his life or yours. Clint and Yelena watched you carefully, with intent.

You took a deep, shaking, breath and clenched your eyes before pulling the trigger. You expected some sort of blow-back. The same throbbing pain that you recalled from shooting at the cans. The scent of gunpowder mixing with cold.

None of those came.

Instead, there was a small click. The safety was on, and though you had squeezed the trigger with the intention to kill, it simply did not fire. You inadvertently slumped back into Natasha and the hand on your hip snaked around your middle, holding you close.

“You won’t have to kill often,” Natasha explained “But it’s good to know you’d do it without question if I tell you to.”

“Oh, Natasha, do not play with her. It is not nice.”

Smoothly, Natasha worked the gun from your hand and switched the safety off before you could blink. She fired two shots in succession, not releasing her hold on you. Your ear was ringing and the man in front of you slumped in his bindings.

“Okay. Very effective. You owe me bullets.” Yelena took her weapon back. “You are cleaning this up.”

“That means I’m cleaning this up.” Clint said.

Natasha hummed in agreement, finally pulling herself away from you. “I think this a job for two, don’t you, y/n?”

There wasn’t room to disagree with her. Not when you could only hear out of one ear, your skin still buzzing from her lingering touch. You could have sworn you felt her own heartbeat against your shoulder blade.

But you’d never bring that up.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toocreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos]

#natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Mafia boss Natasha Romanoff #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Yelena Belova #Request #Mafia au

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wonbriiize · 6 months

Note

Hi could u write something about wonbin secretly dating the reader who is another idol !! reader is kind of an airhead in her group (who is under SM too!!!) and she’s a really good dancer and she has many fans !! one day she’s invited with 2 of her members to a tv show (like running man, knowing brothers etc) and there is also wonbin and riize members too !!! anyway one MC could make a joke about crushing or wanting to date the reader and wonbin would feel jealous, he then would make sneaky remarks about how he and the reader could make a great couple (so the fans could ship them hahaha) thank youuu

note; this was sm fun to write (and challenging bc i don’t really watch knowing brothers or running man so idk if i did well with writing about it), thank u anon for this request !! i changed it a little tho; instead of wonbin x reader already dating, i wanted to show how wonbin is secretly crushing on reader and gets jealous.. i hope you still like it !! <3 (it’s a bit long i’m sorry ㅜㅜ)

pairing; park wonbin x idol reader

warnings; a little bit of cursing

dancing together

your heart is heart shaking and your hands are sweating when you walk to the set of ‘knowing brothers’. it was your first time ever attending a variety show like this and you were nervous, you want to do your best but you don’t know if you’re variety show potential or not.

it hasn’t been long since your group debuted so you feel even more thankful that ‘knowing brothers’ invited you along with two of your other group members for their next episode.

some people think that they only invited you because you’re SM’s new girlgroup, they think that you guys got the big 3 privilege. what they don’t know is that being in one of the big 3 companies isn’t as much of an easy ride as they make it out to be and you all had demons to fight so you could finally debut.

“oh, they’re also here,” one of your group members softly nudges your side and you follow her gaze, your eyes landing on RIIZE. SM‘s boygroup that debuted a while ago.

“i can‘t believe our managers didn’t tell us that we wouldn’t be the only SM group here,” you whisper to your two group members.

“well, i don‘t mind. i can finally get to know sungchan,” the other group member giggles.

she has been crushing on sungchan since the minute she first landed eyes on him, but because of the fact that their schedule never aligns with your groups schedule, she didn’t really have time to get to know him.

well, none of you guys had the time to get to know any of the RIIZE members.

you try to catch a glimpse of park wonbin, the center of the boygroup.

your members don’t know this, but you’ve been eyeing wonbin for the longest time ever. everytime you guys walk past each other in the company building, you just feel something between the two of you. and you know that you’re not the only one who thinks that way ; especially when wonbin catches you staring and gives you a soft smile.

embarrassing, you think, he saw me staring at him.

what you don’t know about wonbin is that he has been eyeing you the whole time too. the second the company introduced the members for the new girlgroup, he was mesmerized by you. he made it his life’s mission to get to know you.

so the fact that he is here, at ‘knowing brothers’, with some of his group members, and you’re here too — it seems like the perfect opportunity to finally make a move.

when the cameras start rolling, your group enters first. getting hyped up by the people filming, the MC‘s and other guests, you gain confidence and the nervousness you were feeling a few minutes ago starts to fade.

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

“oh, *y/n*, we heard that you’re the main dancer of your group,” one of the MC‘s points at you. “so we prepared something especially for you.”

it has been a while since the show started and your nervousness was completely gone, but when the MC grabs after your hand and pulls you to the middle of the supposed classroom, you feel your ears heating up a little.

“do you think you can do it?”

you take a look around the set, seeing how everyone is analyzing you — including wonbin.

you can’t let him see you being insecure. nope, you need to pull off your best.

“of course i can. i‘m the main dancer for a reason,” you smile, hearing your members cheer for you in the background.

the MC‘s stare at you, amazed by your confidence. they’re not the only ones though ; from the side of your eyes you see wonbin looking at you with a big grin on his face.

“seeing you so confident is refreshing, a lot of other idols would feel shy. it’s kind of cute,“ one of the MC‘s raises his eyebrow at you. ew. you’re so not feeling what he just said, but because the cameras are on, you can’t let your discomfort show, so you just laugh.

wonbin doesn’t notice that he put his hand in a fist when the MC called you cute until sungchan put a hand on his shoulder and told him to loosen up.

“you can’t let your jealousy show, wonbin.”

wonbin looks at him, acting like he doesn’t know what sungchan is talking about.

“jealous? why would i be jealous? i‘m not jealous.”

sungchan doesn’t answer, he just raises his eyebrows and grins at wonbin.

“the random dance play starts now!” the MC suddenly announces which brings wonbin’s whole attention back to you.

while the countdown to the first song started, the same MC who called you cute, walks closer to you . “a little spoiler; at some point, bite me by enhypen will play. i will jump in to do the partner dance with you.”

you had no choice but to press your lips together and smile. remember, it’s all for the show, you tell yourself.

the MC thought he was being slick with walking closer to you to tell you that, but he wasn’t as quiet as he probably intended to be because wonbin heard it. he heard what the MC told you.

“who does he think he is?” wonbin whispers to himself. “i‘m not going to let that happen.”

so far, the dances on the random dance play were all that you’ve done dance challenges to, so it wasn’t really hard. you were doing very good if you could say so yourself.

but the constant panic that keeps arising within you whenever the next song is supposed to play (because you just didn’t want to dance to bite me with the MC) is making it hard for you to focus.

and when the song finally plays, you close your eyes for the first few seconds because you weren’t ready for what’s about to happen.

taking a deep breath in and out, you open them again.. only to see wonbin right next to you, leading the dance.

wait? what?

you’re trying your best to not let the confusion show; why is he here? did he really just come up to dance with you? why would he do that?

the dance goes smoothly, it’s like the two of you were meant to dance together.

not to mention the fireworks that are exploding inside of you right now and they only grow bigger everytime wonbin even slightly touches you.

the whole time, wonbin is trying his hardest to not grin like an idiot because he’s enjoying this so much. he couldn’t care less about what everyone is thinking right now. for him, nothing else matters other than dancing together with you.

the music stops and you two freeze, just looking into each others eyes for a moment until you realize that you’re in public right now and everything is being filmed.

quickly, you bow to wonbin as a thank you and turn away from him to face the MC‘s (who are looking at you with big smiles).

“park wonbin,” the MC, who has been hitting on you the whole time, calls out.

wonbin turns to him, nodding. “yes?”

“you‘re quite the show stealer. and partner.”

wonbin doesn’t let himself get thrown offguard. instead, he puts on his best smile.

“i just thought that a main dancer should dance with another dancer. i didn’t intend to steal your moment, sir.. and also, don’t we look good together?” wonbin smiles at you.

the MC analyzes wonbin for a quick moment until he lets out the biggest laugh. “honestly, you danced way better than i could ever have. you matched *y/n*s energy very well and it’s true that you look good together.. almost like a couple.”

the other MC nodds in agreement. “seeing you two dance together makes me want to wish for a collab stage between the two of you in the future.”

now wonbin’s eyes wander over to you. his smile is so infectious that you feel the corners of your lips going up as well.

“well, *y/n*, let’s talk to our managers about this idea and make it happen.”

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

“and.. cut! we are done!”

you let out a breath of relief. your first ever ‘knowing brothers’ appearance has offically ended. even though you enjoyed it, you can’t wait to go back to your dorm and just rest.

your members feel the same way.

“let us go change quickly,” one of them says when you guys walk to the backstage area.

somehow, your mind is still stuck on wonbin. you can’t believe what had happened. it feels like some kind of dream, or just something that you’ve imagined.

there’s no way that park wonbin wanted to dance with me, you just can’t seem to believe it.

being all in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that someone had walked up next to you.

“hey,” wonbin softly touches your shoulder which makes you stop walking.

“you were a great dance partner earlier.”

not being able to answer (because you can’t grasp the fact that he’s standing right in front of you), you just smile.

talk, say something, you pressure yourself. don’t look like an idiot in front of him right now when you’ve tried to show your best side the whole day.

“i should honestly thank you. really, i mean it. we did well together.”

wonbin smiles, his eyes sparkling, making it look like he has stars shining inside of them.

“i hope we can dance together sometime in the future too. and i don’t mean the collab stage.. i mean privately. like, only the two of us..”

wonbin can’t believe he just said that. it took him all the guts in the world but he’s happy that it’s out in the open, he’s happy to finally have the courage to ask you out (which is what he has been wanting to do for months).

hold on-

park wonbin?? is asking ME out??

you try your hardest to not stop breathing at this very moment.

“as in a date?”

wonbin scratches the back of his head. “yes.. uhm.. unless i was just imaging things and you don’t really want to get to know me the same way i want to get to know you.”

you stare at him while the fireworks you were feeling earlier are making a comeback.

“shit, yeah, maybe this was too much. i should probably just lea-” you cut wonbin off.

“i would love to dance with you again. privately.”

you’ve seen wonbin being all smiley the whole day but right now, you see the biggest smile on his face ever. as if he’s a little kid and someone gave him tons of sweets.

“cool.. more than cool. amazing. would you mind giving me your number so i can hit you up with the details later?”

you shake your head laughingly while typing in your number on wonbin’s phone.

once you give it back to him, his smile only grows bigger.

“okay, yeah.. i will text you. for sure. i just have to leave now, as you probably saw; sungchan keeps messaging me. uhm.. i can’t wait to see you again.”

before you could reply, wonbin turns around and you could swear that you heard him giggle while he excitedly walked (almost galloping) away.

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palajae · 7 months

Text

it’s just…

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE... figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love? | WC... 0.6k | “it’s just what?”

“congratulations on another wonderful performance and win! you guys have been dominating the couples skate for years now even though you’re still so young, how do you feel?”

your partner’s arm around you tightens a bit as he stares into the camera, leaning into the mic. the sweat fresh from coming off the ice gleams on his forehead and you stare at his side profile, resisting the urge to wipe a drop running down the side of his cheek.

still breathing heavily, he manages to sport a bright grin.

“yeah, well, i think the fans will be happy. we worked really hard, and i hope the performance shows that.” he glances down at you as you smile back up at him.

“i think we’re both satisfied. i’m proud of y/n too, as always.”

your smile grows a bit at that.

you and niki had been partners for over six years now, having essentially grown up together. you think you’ve spent more time with niki on the ice than you have at home with your family.

but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

you respected him immensely, trusted him entirely, and you knew he felt the same. the fans could see it too.

it showed in every interaction, every performance. you two were naturally close and friendly, so the shipping that came along with it was expected. no one could deny your chemistry.

after the interview finishes, you and niki finish up with pictures of you with your medals. he even picks you up and spins you around as you laugh, beaming at your expression.

when you finally get a moment to rest, he ruffles your hair. “good job today. i’m proud of you.”

you shove his hand away playfully, “you worked hard too. did you want to grab some food before we get back to the hotel? i’m kinda hungry and you know-“

you glance at niki to see him typing away on his phone. you poke his cheek.

“hm? yeah?”

you cross your arms and huff as he sheepishly squeezes your side as an apology.

“i said, did you want to get some food? coach said we don’t have any more schedules, so we should be free…”

niki bites his lip. “sorry, i already have some plans. but i’ll meet you back at the hotel?”

you frown. since when did he ever not want to spend time with you?

“alright, see you later.”

you end up passing out back at the hotel and don’t see niki until the next day for practice. it goes smoothly as usual, but he seems a little off.

it’s not until your coach calls break when you nudge him, skating in circles around him like an animal surrounding their prey.

“what’s up with you?”

“what do you mean?

you raise an eyebrow, taking his hands and pulling him along. “you know what i mean, so spill.”

he sighs heavily, “i wanted to wait until we got home, but…”

“but?”

“I think i’m gonna go out with haerin.”

you stop. and slowly let go of his hands.

“oh.”

“it’s nothing serious for now,” he adds hastily, “we’re just getting to know each other.”

“no, no, of course,” you mumble while collecting your thoughts.

“it’s just-“

“its just what?” niki perks up almost immediately like he was anticipating your response with a glint in his eyes.

“nothing.” you smile flatly. “i was just surprised.”

it certainly seemed out of the blue. it wasn’t that you minded—niki could date whoever he liked. you guys were just professional partners and always had been.

but why does something feel so wrong?

a/n ▸ happy happy halloween (if you celebrate it)👻 ☺️to be continued…. hehe the rest are already planned so keep a look out ;)

part 1/4 | next.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee @who-tf-soddhi

@kflixnet

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #niki imagines #enhypen niki #establishing my nikiblr dominance lol

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lullabesstie · 2 months

Text

Found this comment on Reddit. Couldn’t explain it better than this.

“It’s clear from Mist and Fury that the original ships were: Feysand, Nessian, Elucien, and Mor/Azriel. Like it’s so obvious the way she wrote Mor and Azriel; Mor even seems vaguely interested/torn about Az. Looking at interviews, SJM even talks about Elucien as a couple (eg where would they like to travel together, etc).

Flash forward to ACOWAR. For whatever reason (lack of chemistry with Az, wanting more diversity) SJM has Mor say that she prefers women. This time the Az-pining-for-Mor is more desperate/feels like a zero chance of being requited. SJM also introduces Az as a potential love interest for Elain because she loves throwing a wrench. Just because Elucien are mates doesn’t mean they’ll have it easy; SJM’s whole thing is angst. She had to throw in a love triangle to make it uncertain. This is the first couple where mate status is confirmed upon meeting.

But there’s a problem now. If Az and Mor are no longer endgame, who will they end up with? is it not suspicious that the two new characters introduced in SF (Gwyn and Emerie) just HAPPEN to be potentially be good partners for Az and Mor? Like it’s not a coincidence that Emerie looks at Mor and blushes, remarking how pretty she is. It’s not a coincidence that Az and Gwyn have so many interactions in the text. It’s not a coincidence that a “random side character” shows up in a bonus chapter.

When SJM created Gwyn and Emerie, it wasn’t just to give Nesta friends. These characters clearly didn’t exist when she wrote MAF. SJM wanted new characters that would solve her retcon of ending Az/Mor. She wanted to solve the Mor/Az retcon so bad that she created a NEW RETCON of Az going to Sangravah. Like why bother to add that detail if it’s not important.

Also: poor Lucien. His endgame heroine was supposed to be Nesta until SJM realized they would be terrible together and that Nessian had better chemistry. So she gives Elucien the mating bond. Like is she really going to fuck Lucien over TWICE? She loves him as a character and has put him through the wringer. Yes, I agree that SJM can change her mind and maybe is open to mate rejection, but Lucien has already switched love interests from Nesta to Elain! Who else is he going to switch to, considering that Jurian and Vassa are “at each other’s throats?”

Finally, please think about the number of books left. Ignoring novellas (which are probably gonna be fluffy ones like ACOFAS where nothing happens), there are two main books left. Two couples.

Option A:

• ⁠Gwynriel (Valkyrie growth, Illyrian rebellion, exploring Ramiel, Gwyn’s autumn heritage and maybe lightsinger?? powers)

• ⁠Elucien (Helion secret baby, defeating Koschei, freeing Vassa, fixing spring court)

Option B

• ⁠Elriel (mate rejection storyline, potentially some stuff above)

• ⁠?????

Literally WHO is the second book in this equation? Lucien and Vassa?? We barely know Vassa and there’s barely any connection to Night Court. And Lucien’s book is going to be depressing as fuck dealing with mate rejection; does anyone want to read two heavy books of rejection? Jurian and Vassa: again, we barely know them! At least with Tower of Dawn, Chaol had been a main character for a long time with POV. SJM will not do a full-length Emerie/Mor book as much as I would love for one. She’s very cognizant of criticism re: Mor bi rep in the past; she doesn’t want to open a can of worms and be accused of writing bad sapphic rep. If anything, I can see a fluffy Emerie/Mor novella with little angst (or them getting together in the background of other books).

So from a meta structural level, I don’t understand who the second couple will be if Elriel is endgame. Lucien/Vassa is the most plausible answer, but 1) we barely know Vassa, 2) she’s human and Lucien is immortal. So are we going to toss her into the Cauldron to make her immortal? Serious question, and 3) I don’t want TWO books about mate rejection, it’s depressing as hell. I can see one but not two.

But with Gwynriel and Elucien, you have enormous fan and audience interest in ALL FOUR CHARACTERS. They’re directly tied to Night Court and SJM so far has no intention of staying away from the core group.”

#acotar #elucien #gwynriel #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #azriel #elain archeron #gwyneth berdara

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sirenedusud · 8 months

Text

*NSFW* To Starboard (OPLA Shanks x reader)

AN: all i can say is GAW DAMN i am a depraved slut for this man. Where my depraved girlies at

Warning: just smut, piv, cussing, nothing violent (does an already missing arm count?)

***

Your crew prepared to dock as the distance between the island and your ship shrank, windmills on the terrain growing larger and larger. You're standing on the main deck, hands on your hips as you inspect your crew bustling about. They're a loyal lot, you helped most of them from worse situations, therefore they feel indebted to you. Yes, you were a pirate with a sun bleached black ship and a hefty bounty on your head, but you led a life of ease. You weren't too worried about looking over your shoulder or becoming the biggest and baddest in the East Blue, as long as you could feel the wind brushing your shoulders and the sun kissing your skin you were happy. That didn't mean you never indulged in the pleasures of this world though. You had a little more than a collection of fancy shotguns in your cabin, one would even call it an armory for the Marines; and you had a notorious romantic streak across the sea. You didn't mean to break a few hearts here and there, but you just got bored after a while and needed to run off once again. Some flings came back though, begging for more.

"Raise ALL THE SAILS you fucking rat!" Your first mate yells at the new boy. You smile and begin to intervene, but come to an abrupt stop. A ship with red masts sails by to your right. You turn your body to face the passing ship, your hand finding the rigging to steady yourself as your eyes scan it's entire deck. Finally, you lock eyes with the captain who had already been looking at you. Red-Haired Shanks. He was elated to see you and you knew it, but you didn't betray any emotion on your own face. The two of you mirror each other, slowly pacing towards the back of the deck. Your ships were no longer facing side to side by the time you reached the quarter deck. Shanks' seemed anxious that this would be it, until you turned to make sure no one was watching you on board. You turn your back to your crew to look at him once again and prop your foot up on the cannon in front of you, hiking up your skirt to reveal a leg. Your hand holds your skirt up to your mid thigh, only enough to reveal a frilly garter. Your little show was heaven sent. Shanks' eyes widen and he fervently yells something unintelligible, his crew answering back. You drop your leg down and walk back to the main deck, a smile threatening to tear your face. Your ship had been docked and you waited for someone to drop a ladder for you to get on the harbor. You glance back at the Red Hair's ship, and sure enough it was reeling so hard to the right that it was threatening to tip over. Some people on the harbor watch in confusion as the ship's hull is almost fully exposed at the dramatic turn, then carry back on to their business once the ship was set straight back to the docks.

"Whaddya think that's all about cap'n?" Your navigator asks you, her eyebrow cocked as she looks back and forth between you and Shanks' ship.

"I wouldn't know," you coyly reply, and begin your climb down to the port. You jump off the ladder and smooth down your skirt. Suddenly you became captious about your appearance: was your skin as smooth as it used to be, did you smell like a sea dog, was your corset tight enough, was your hair in place? What were you doing? You weren't the eager one in these moments, but seeing Shanks excited you. Some of your crew work to tie down the ship, others walk to the nearest pub. You stand a moment longer by your ship, droplets of sweat beginning to form at your bandana. Then, his ship is anchored down once again a couple docks away from you, and you begin your slow walk down the port. As you make it down the boardwalk, you catch a glint of red in your peripherals. Butterflies swarm within your lower belly. Shanks is half running to meet you in the middle, slowing down once he's mere feet behind you. The town is bustling with people, yet they remain unaware of the electricity sparking between the two of you. You only give Shanks a small turn of your head and smile, and continue walking a little slower, not looking back at him. He follows behind you, his hand reaches for yours. Your fingers grazing against each other in a dance of their own. You're unaware of the compass of your own body (pussy) as you guide Shanks to a small inn. You continue in a dream like state as you enter the parlor, get a room key, and lead him upstairs. As the two of you stand in the poorly lit narrow hall, Shanks pulls you back down to earth the moment he pushes his hips into your ass. You turn the key quicker at the feel of his hardening cock.

"It's been too long darling," He whispers onto the skin of your neck, "I've missed you so much." He keeps whispering sweet nothings until the door clicks opens and you're both inside. Shanks shoves you back into the door, not giving you a moment to react after closing it. Your back is pressed onto the wood but you don't care. Shanks' lips find yours and you're both kissing in an urgency you didn't realize you were holding back. He nips your lower lip softly, asking your permission, and you let him slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan into the kiss, causing Shanks' to buck his hips into yours. His hand rakes down from your clavicle to your breast and further to your waist. Hand? You break away from the kiss with a small push to his chest and yelp at his missing arm, hitting your head on the door behind you.

"Fucking hell Shanks, how'd this happen??" You push his cape off fully to reveal the empty sleeve and look up at him, gaping. Shanks only sighs, whispering something under his breath and uses his only hand to reach for yours. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, you look down at it and back up, giving him a quizzical look. He leads you to the small bed and sits you down. He tells you what had happened only days ago on this same island. You find yourself snapping your hands up to wipe the unwanted tears pricking through your lashes. Shanks clicks his tongue.

"It's just an arm love, don't sully your pretty face over it," Shanks gently pries a hand from your face and kisses your tears away, whispering a "please" between the kisses. His mouth finds yours once again and you relax into him. Heat rises between your bodies and you're pulling his face into yours. He quickly releases you to remove his straw hat, tossing it to a side table before he returns to your lips. Things grow sloppier, Shanks let's go of your lips to latch onto your neck, leaving blooms where his teeth sinks into and pulling out a faint cry from you as he sucks on your most sensitive spot. In your daze you hear Shanks unbuckling his belt and tossing it across the room. His hand becomes frantic as they begin to tug at your corset or his own shirt, so you stop him. Shanks eyes glint with confusion, but you only smile at him as you reach for him. You gently pull his shirt out of his waistband and over his body, he complies and crooks his neck forward to let you pull his shirt off over his head. You then get up from the bed and kneel in front of him. His eyes say something different now, you cannot quite tell what though. Something had possessed you in that moment. Here you were gently prying Shanks' shoes off, pulling his trousers down and over his ankles. Once you finish undressing him he reaches for you again, but you push his hand away and stand before him. Slowly yet not so much, you unlace your corset and drop it to the floor. You unclasp your leather belt with its pistols hanging on the sides, and push your skirt down as well. Shanks' already hardened cock twitches at every article of cloth being removed. You finally remove the flimsy chemise and bloomers, a pirate didn't need ten other extra undergarments. You reach for the garter on your thigh but Shanks raises his hand.

"Keep that on" he says, his voice now gruff with pent up desire. He reaches for it and pulls you in between his legs, your hands find their place on his shoulders. His hot breath hits your stomach, causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He looks up at you with blown out pupils, you both remain still for a moment. The spell breaks and he pulls you down into his lap in the middle of the bed. You whimper at the sudden sensation of his cock against your clit, and you grind down onto him to feel it again. His eyes threaten to roll back and he grabs your face down to kiss him once more, his hand then traveling down to your breast where he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck Shanks-" you begin but get cut off by his mouth latching onto your other nipple. His tongue swirls and sucks onto you and you let out a small cry. Your hips push down towards his cock again, but he doesn't let you sink down on him so this time you use a hand to play with his tip. He becomes merciless with his mouth as you tease him, and finally releases both of your breasts to stop your hand and hold your hips still.

"Shanks please- fuck- please I want you so bad- I need you.." you spill out as you fail to make contact with his skin again. He only smiles and softens his grip.

"So have me" he says. You blank for a moment, then use one hand to line his dick with your entrance and slowly go down on him. He's too big. You let out something between a moan and gasp as you slowly push him back out and in again. Shanks is struggling to hold himself together too, letting out shaky moans of your name. After a few slow attempts, you seat yourself fully onto his cock. The stretch makes your head buzz and you rock back and forth, stirring obscenities out of the both of you.

"Fuck-ck you're so tight...hhh you're so..fuck..wet- listen to how fucking wet you are for me" Shanks half mutters half groans as you ride him with a quicker pace. You have one hand on his shoulder and another on his thigh to stop yourself from toppling over. His own hand is holding you by the hip, attempting to guide you to bounce harder onto him. He grows impatient and suddenly between strokes, Shanks fucks up into you and causes you to wail. His eyes turn into obsidian and he grabs your waist, pulling you into his body as he lies down with his cock still inside you. Your cheek is pressed into his chest and before you protest, Shanks snaps his hips upwards into you causing you to muffle a scream with your fist. He continues to fuck you for what felt like eternity. Driving his cock so far into you at this angle you begin to see stars. His one arm keeps you mercilessly pinned to his body.

"Shanks I'm gon- I'm gonna cum- FUCK" you hardly finish talking before that familiar feeling shoots up through your nerves and into your brain. Your thighs quiver aggressively around him and Shanks let's out a hoarse groan as his own orgasm erupts out of him. You feel your cunt heating up, filling with his cum as his strokes slow down. His arm loosens around you, finding your hair and brushing it as he cooes you through your orgasm. You try to slide off of him, but he keeps you there.

"I'm not letting you get away from me this time," Shanks murmurs into your hair, pressing kisses where he spoke. He knew you didn't like sticking around. He knew you were afraid of getting attached only to possibly get hurt, he knew the last time you had seen him you were dangerously close to leaving everything for him, causing you to live a flighty life. You roll off of him and sit up, failing to give him your strict glare once you look back at him. His eyes are begging for you to stay, pleading with love he'd been desperate to show you. His hand reaches for yours once more, grasping it with a firmness that feared you'd fly away again.

"I know you feel the same, i know you use others to forget about me-"

"Shanks you lost your fucking arm in a blink of an eye what if it's your lift next-"

"So why won't you take that risk?" He asks, he's sitting up now too, desperation filling his voice, "because I sure as bloody hell would do it for you. I love you!" You stare at him in awe, your eyebrows overwork themselves as your mind tosses around in its anxieties.

"I love you too..." you answer mindlessly. You betrayed your own code. Fuck it if it meant not hurting Shanks anymore. The two of you sit there, eyes boring their deepest desires into each other as the setting sun greets you through the stained window.

#one piece #shanks smut #shanks x reader #opla x reader #opla shanks #opla smut #red haired shanks #one piece live action

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