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#i'm fist fighting with death at this point
marshber · 7 months
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ok guys do NOT take stimulants when you have arrythmia. just learned the hard way
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thyandrawrites · 1 year
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https://thyandrawrites.tumblr.com/post/614692078547582976/i-havent-cried-since-my-tear-ducts-got-burned
Just read your meta about this ^ <3
And It made me question why the league has given up on changing their society into a healthier one. I mean I can see why they did give up on it but I guess theres just a part of me that wishes they didnt. What do they think will happen when they show the world how corrupt it is and do succeed in destroying Heros and all that. We talk about them wanting to destroy Heros and their status quo but what do they think will happen once they manage to do that? Just because they destroyed status quo, I don’t see anything changing for the better in the end because the villains aren’t purposely fighting the heros for the sake of a better society🤔. One reason why they destroy is because they no longer see a future for themselves but jeez it makes me sad that they think that way and making everything worse by destroying everything around them in the war right now. The heros really need to step up right now and help them.
You're right that they're not seeking to destroy to build something better atop the wreckage. Not anymore, at least. But I think it's important to point out that while their goals weren't exactly constructive to begin with, their current destruction is an escalation of their original objectives.
Like, Dabi is the most obvious example. Up until the war arc, he still had some sort of lingering idealism. He made a nationwide broadcast aimed at civilians to push them into thinking with their own heads and making society better by ridding it of all fake heroes. It's only when society throws the abuse he suffered back in his face by siding with Enji that he realizes that's never going to work, that people will always "live to laugh" in the face of his trauma and step on his need for justice.
Same with Toga and Shigaraki. They tried explaining themselves over and over, but not a single time were their points ever heard. Toga tried to get Ochako and Deku to acknowledge that heroes took the lives of a precious friend and showed no remorse and suffered no consquences. Neither of them acknowledged her suffering, and instead kept addressing her as a love-obsessed freak. Shigaraki told Deku and the heroes that the society that heroes built has always rejected him, started from his own household. He was locked out of the house as punishment for refusing to obey arbitrary and despotic rules that didn't value him as a person. The heroes built him a flying coffin as punishment for refusing to die quietly, and called him an "it", making it clear they also don't see him as a person.
I mean. Draw your conclusions.
At some point they did seek a dialogue, but it was only met with even more rejection. Imho that's important to acknowledge because all three of them became villains precisely because society rejected them over and over, made them scapegoats, and then called them monsters and tried to put them down like wild animals.
So while I don't see lashing out with even more violent and destruction as a viable solution... I can totally understand where they're coming from.
it... really shouldn't be on them to make a good enough case for why children shouldn't be fucking abused, for the heroes to finally start seeing them as human beings... and yet...
I think it makes sense why the League would have enough of being pummeled to near-death every time they try a dialogue, and instead decided to hit back just as hard. I mean, obviously that's just repeating the endless cycle of violence (it's the same old 'an eye for an eye'), and we can clearly see how it's only making the Lov trio's self-loathing fester and bring them further and further away from their origins, but. At this point, honestly, why should they make things easier on the heroes?
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aziraphale-is-a-cat · 8 months
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DPxDC Warlock Batfamily
They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.
It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.
They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.
Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.
"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."
"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."
"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."
Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.
"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.
"Warlock."
"Oh."
Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"
Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."
"Fucking Hell."
-
The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.
Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.
"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."
"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."
Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.
John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."
The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.
The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.
Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.
"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."
Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."
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doumadono · 6 months
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Turbulent temptations - Choso x Reader
Warnings: smut - oral (f & m receiving, 69), doggy style, fingering, rough p in v, angst, f!Reader, boyfriend!Choso Synopsis: Choso and you engaged in a heated disagreement, culminating in an incredibly steamy moments
MASTERLIST
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An atmosphere thick with tension hung in the air. Choso, the tall and muscular Death Painting Womb, stood before you, his piercing purple eyes ablaze with a mixture of anger and frustration. His jet-black hair was wild and unruly. He was a formidable presence, but tonight, he was more than intimidating.
You, a mere human, stood your ground, refusing to let him dictate your every move. His controlling tendencies had escalated to a breaking point, and tonight's argument was the culmination of weeks of mounting resentment. "You can't keep doing this, Choso," you said, your voice wavering but determined. "I won't let you control every aspect of my life. I need my independence."
Choso clenched his fists, his muscles tensing as he struggled to keep his temper in check. His lips curled into a snarl. "You don't understand, do you, my little weakling? I do it because I care about you. I'm trying to protect you from this cruel world."
You shook your head, your own temper flaring. "Protecting me is one thing, Choso, but suffocating me is another. I can't breathe in this relationship if you're always watching my every move."
Choso's face contorted in frustration. His cheeks flushed, contrasting sharply with his pale complexion. "I can't help it. It's in my nature. I've lost people I cared about, and I can't bear to lose you too."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step closer to him. "Choso, I love you, but love can't thrive in an environment of control and jealousy. We need to find a balance, or we'll destroy what we have!"
"Y/N, I won't give up on protecting you because that's the only way I can be sure you're safe. You should be grateful!"
"Shut the hell up, Choso! Fuck you!" You practically screamed the last two words and delivered a forceful punch to his chest.
He blinked and seized you by the throat, his stature towering over you. He had long surpassed you in size and strength. His hand closed around your delicate neck, and he tightened his grip, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as fear instantly flooded your eyes. "If you ever lay a hand on me like that again," Choso seethed, his voice dripping with anger, "I won't hesitate to put you in your place." With that, he released his grip on you, and you stumbled, collapsing to the floor.
He moved towards you with a slow, deliberate pace, sending a shiver down your spine.
As you retreated, you found yourself backing up past your couch, your heart pounding in your chest.
"I don't know what it is about you," Choso uttered in a hushed tone that sent a chill through your bones. "You're driving me insane." He closed the gap until he was just a few feet away, and you couldn't help but tremble.
You remained silent, a mix of emotions boiling within you. Your face grew flushed, your fists clenched at your sides, and your teeth ground together in frustration. Choso's predatory gaze roved over your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Anger surged through your mind, but your pussy ached, and in that moment, you despised yourself.
Finally, his eyes locked onto yours, and he advanced another step, a dark intensity in his gaze that made it clear he had no intention of letting you escape his grasp.
He grabbed your upper arms. His grip on you was a vice, a sudden and unyielding force that left you frozen in place. Choso's voice dripped with a chilling intensity as he snarled, his breath hot against your face, his eyes smoldering with a dangerous fire. "What are you gonna do?" The question hung in the air, heavy with an ominous promise. "I can take whatever I desire, whether you resist or not. So, what are you going to do? Scream? Fight me again? Beg for me to stop?"
Your defiance met his unyielding demeanor, and a silence thick with tension enveloped you both. You chose not to scream; words seemed futile in that charged moment. Instead, you defied his expectations and, with determination, rose onto your tiptoes, meeting his dangerous gaze. Without uttering a single word, you pressed your lips against his.
Choso's initial stillness and lack of response was deafening, a tension hanging in the air that was thicker than the darkest of clouds. But then, with a fierce intensity, he pulled you into a messy kiss that left your mind reeling.
Your thoughts raced as desire burned within you, an undeniable craving for him, an unspoken but unmistakable need that coursed through your veins. Your teeth grazed menacingly against his lower lip, sinking in for a harsh bite.
Choso's eyebrow shot up in shock, his grip on you loosening involuntarily.
Seizing the opportunity, you used your newfound freedom to forcefully shove him away. He stumbled backward and tumbled onto your couch, a mix of confusion and irritation flashing across his features. "The fuck…" Choso began, but you didn't let him finish.
With a predatory grace, you closed the distance between you, straddling his lap with an unmistakable air of dominance. The fabric of your skirt rode up your thighs, exposing a tantalizing expanse of skin against his robe.
You could feel his cock starting to harden beneath you, and you leaned forward, your lips almost against his as you stared straight at Choso. "Despite all of my anger and frustration, I still need you."
With a self-assured grin curling at the edges of his lips, Choso gently pushed you away, rising to his feet. He swiftly shed his clothes, and you mirrored his actions, discarding your own attire. The inexplicable rush of desire had taken you by surprise, and you couldn't help but wonder if his cursed powers were weaving their enchantment on your mind. Yet, at that moment, you couldn't find it in yourself to care - all you craved was Choso.
Your eyes drank in the sight before you.
He stood there fully naked, finally. Choso was facing you so you could see it all: his chest - strong and broad, his abs - perfectly toned, and his cock - thick and hard, precum dripping from the tip. He was the most handsome being you had ever seen in your life.
Soon, Choso was propped up on his elbows, looking at you, running the tip of his tongue along his upper lip; the head of his cock was nearly purple as his irises and the precum was literally dripping down his shaft - his excitement mirrored your own, unmistakable in his demeanor.
With a mischievous smile, you gracefully made your way onto the couch, letting your hair cascade around Choso's face as you descended to kiss him. His response was eager as he met your lips, and you allowed him to deepen the kiss, savoring the electric connection between you, before gently drawing back. "Let's find out if you can employ that tongue more effectively," you whispered, and with a swift movement, you were straddling his face.
Choso needed no further encouragement. Without hesitation, he dove into his task, sensually caressing your pussy with his tongue. Your reaction was immediate - a contented sigh escaping your lips as he expertly teased your cunt. As he continued, he gently sucked on your engorged clit, drawing a surprised moan from your lips. Unable to contain your desire, you began to move your hips back and forth, pressing your wet entrance against his eager mouth. Choso's skillful tongue danced along your slick folds, teasing the entrance to your throbbing core, ocassionally licking a long stripe along your slit. He lapped at your pussy like a starved man. Choso placed a few tiny kisses to your clitoris, eventually nudging the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. As your body responded with increasing fervor, he intensified his efforts, skillfully pleasuring your clit with his mouth. Waves of pleasure cascaded through your being, your fingers toying with your nipples as he lavished attention on your dripping pussy.
You shifted away from his face briefly, repositioning yourself to lean down and engage with his arousal. Afterward, you eased your wet pussy back onto his waiting mouth, and Choso responded eagerly, lavishing attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Simultaneously, you leaned closer to his hardened length, and with one dainty hand, you enveloped his throbbing shaft, commencing a leisurely and tantalizing rhythm of movement.
Choso groaned into your dripping cunt and the noise sent vibrations through your slick pussy. You moaned and stuck out your tongue, licking the precum off his tip. Choso's hips bucked as you did, and you licked up and down his shaft before finally taking him into your warm, welcoming mouth.
You could sense the mounting tension in the room as his deep, guttural groans resonated in the air. His hips subtly shifted, syncing with the rhythm of your movements as you pleasured him. Choso's commitment to your desires didn't waver, his attention unwavering as he devoured your cunt. But as you dared to take him deeper into your mouth, his reaction was palpable - his head tilted back, a primal sound escaping his throat as he drove his hips upwards, urging his hardness further into your welcoming throat. You gagged yourself around his cock, and found it impossible to stifle your emotions - tears streamed down your cheeks as you carefully bobbed your head, cupping his balls with your free palm, squeezing them slowly.
Choso let out a deep, sensuous moan as he spat on your slit. His intent was to ensure you were drenched, and he proceeded to resume his delicate attentions. With tantalizing tenderness, he showered your slit with gentle, kitten-like licks that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire being. He occasionally enveloped your soft, plump lips within the warm embrace of his mouth after sucking them in.
Soon, you withdrew your mouth from his throbbing dick, releasing it with a soft, satisfying pop sound. You gracefully moved away from Choso's face, letting the charged atmosphere linger in the room.
"I nearly forgot the exquisite sensations of human pleasures," Choso remarked, his voice laced with surprise.
He wasted no time at all. Choso gently encouraged you to recline on your side on the plush couch. His fingers traced a voluptuous path from your side, along your thigh, and ultimately, between your legs. His focus was unwavering, and he began to tease your slick folds. Choso, with a witching vehemence, urged you to circle your arm around his neck, causing you to partially turn your upper body towards him. As your eyes met, he lavished attention on your breasts, his lips finding their way to one of your sensitive nipples. Contemporaneously, his skilled fingers delved deep into your sopping cunt, kindling a conflagration of passion and pleasure that consumed you fully.
"Ch-Choso!" You couldn't help but whine his name.
His tongue gently traced circles around your sensitive bud, and he playfully nibbled at it. Choso's fingers moved in a rhythmic motion, thrusting in and out of your cunny, inching you close to the brink of an ecstatic release.
The sensations were already sending delightful shivers throughout your body, and your soft, enticing moans coupled with the rhythmic grinding of your hips against his skilled hand only fueled Choso's desire. As your bodies moved in harmony, his palm expertly pressed against your aroused clit, intensifying the sensations as you eagerly responded to his every touch.
You found yourself perched precariously on the precipice of ecstasy, your body quivering with anticipation. With each passing moment, the intensity of your desire grew, and you knew that you were on the brink of an earth-shattering climax. It was the final touch, the masterful stroke of Choso's hand against your swollen, throbbing clit, that sent you hurtling into a tidal wave of pleasure.
"Oh, Choso!!!" Your body convulsed, an intense orgasm surging through you like a tempest, causing your hips to buck uncontrollably against his skillful touch. In the throes of ecstasy, you couldn't help but cry out, your head arching backward in sheer pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck!"
As the waves of pleasure began to recede, you felt Choso's hand, now tender and gentle, delicately caressing your sensitive, slick folds. You were left panting, your senses still tingling from the electrifying experience.
His throbbing dick pressed firmly against your ass as Choso's lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Your bodies radiated heat, drawing you closer together. In a moment of desire, he deftly maneuvered, lifting your leg and guiding it over his hip. Choso continued to press against you, and as your lips locked in a sensual embrace, the tip of his dick found its way between your slick folds.
A soft moan escaped your lips, your voice barely able to contain the passion that surged through you. "Oh, Choso!"
With each movement, he explored your neck with his lips, savoring the taste of your skin, while the intensity of your connection deepened, creating a symphony of desire and pleasure between you.
He moved his hips with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm, rocking back and forth in a sensual dance of desire. Every motion he made was slow. With each thrust, he found an opportunity to run his tongue along the column of your neck, heightening the intensity of your passion while his fervor drove you to ecstasy.
"Harder, Choso, harder, please…" You were moaning.
Some time later, he withdrew, prompting you to shift your position. You settled on all fours, your ass end provocatively arched upward.
He approached from behind, the tip of his dick making contact with your slick entrance.
You could sense it, delicately seeking access to your tight, inviting cunt, and you reciprocated by sensually wriggling back against him.
His shaft glided smoothly into your drenched haven, and he inched in gradually, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he felt your warmth envelop him. "Fuck."
A sensual moan escaped your lips as you felt him filling you completely, his pulsating, rigid length nestled deep within your core.
"Oh, Y/N," he gasped, his voice laden with desire. Choso's strong hands gripped your hips, initiating a slow, tantalizing rhythm, guiding you back and forth onto his throbbing cock. However, this leisurely pace didn't persist for long. He skillfully maneuvered one hand around your form, cupping your breasts, while his other hand found its way to your sensitive clit. With fervor, he began to thrust into you with an intensity that left you both breathless and consumed by passion.
"Ammmmpppp- fuck!" You groaned, pressing your head to the armrest.
He let out a deep, primal wail, and your breath caught as he passionately fucked you. The rhythmic sound of his balls slapping against your plush ass reverberated in the air, creating an intoxicating symphony. His every thrust found that sweet, sensitive spot within you, igniting waves of pleasure as the tip of his dick massaged that spongy place. Simultaneously, his skilled fingers danced over your sensitive clitoris, sending electric pulses of ecstasy through your body, while his teasing grip on your hardened nipples pushed you ever closer to a euphoric bliss.
"So good and so tight, fuck, Y/N, fuck," Choso moaned behind you, his head roled back a little. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum."
In an instant, Choso quivered with intensity, delivering one last powerful thrust into the depths of your wetness. The force of his movement was so overwhelming that it caused you to lose your balance, making you stagger forward. At that very moment, you could feel the scorching heat of his hot seed spurt into your cunt, filling you completely. It was this ecstatic rush that tipped you over the edge, igniting a second climax that surpassed the first in its sheer intensity.
Your inner muscles clenched tightly around Choso's remarkable length, coaxing out every last drop of his cum, which surged forth, spilling into your longing cunt. The sheer elatedness of the moment left you both gasping, lost in the intoxicating throes of passion.
After an exhilarating encounter, the two of you found yourselves on the couch, both panting heavily. You reclined on your back, the rise and fall of your chest mirroring your deep, labored breaths. Choso, his own breath ragged, turned over and nestled his head gently against your bosom, seeking solace in the tender connection you shared.
"You're fucking amazing," he stated. "I believe I should encourage you to engage in more argments with me," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye. "You're becoming incredibly passionate afterward, my sweet Y/N."
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Tagging: @roast-toast @bestliarr
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muchlovekatia · 18 days
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✧ ˚ · . 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 —
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⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔹
theo nott x reader
synopsis :
theo can't help but kiss you sometimes.
warnings!:
literally just fluff
〰️
once theo kisses you, he can't stop. you're just so intoxicating to him, so perfect. it's like a drug he can't get enough of, a dream he doesn't want to wake up from. it's your face, and the way your lips slide on his, and the feeling of leaning in and pulling away, and holding you in his arms.
you weren't much for talking. when it was necessary, sure, sometimes when you were happy, or angry, or had any other strong feelings that called for words. it was theo who brought out the talker in you. because, for whatever reason, one that was unbeknownst to you, you loved to talk to him.
it was like years of bottled words you never cared to share before came pouring off your tongue the moment a favored topic came to mind, as if they'd been banging at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out, and you'd just never known you had needed to say them. in those moments, a feeling of eagerness caught your heart, like you couldn't pronounce the syllables at the same rate your mind thought them, and all you wanted to do was show your boyfriend exactly everything that you were saying as you said it.
he had struck that chord in you just now. "i've never heard of it," was what got you speaking—and quite quickly—of train rides and a german girl and death. the book thief.
yes, these were your favorite times. saying but not fast enough, showing but not strongly enough. it was late into the night, and you were laying before him on your bed, his hands running through your hair and his mouth quirked into the beginnings and teasings of a smile. you didn't know it, but these were his favorite moments too. when you got so immensely excited, that it was evident in your every movement, your skin glowing, your blood prickling. hayden couldn't help but pull you closer, feel tempted to kiss you right then and there.
instead, he laid quietly across from you, relishing the twinkle in your eyes and the faint energy thrumming off of you, feeding the temptation more and more. "i don't know. she was kinda just mean the whole book, y'know, with the yelling and things," you were rambling, "but it was obvious you were supposed to like her at some point. especially when michael died and all." his finger traced the line of your collarbone, and he was stupidly, absently nodding along. "but i never really liked her anyways. i felt bad for her of course, but— wait— that's not the point. i was trying to say—" theo couldn't take it any longer.
his eyes flicked to your lips, and without warning, he dipped his head and kissed you. you were caught off guard, your hands, which had been toying with the hem of his shirt, traveling to his chest and balling into fists. it was sweet and short, but it ceased your spiel enough to keep you quiet even when he pulled away, his face littered with adoration. you barely even got the workings of a huffed laugh in before he was leaning in again. "theo—" this time, his kisses trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and then your neck. "stop that— i'm trying to—" a giggle, "—explain."
"i'm listening," he uttered against your skin in return, pulling back and staring intently into your eyes. his gaze fell to your lips, which he pecked again. broad hands traveled to the crooks of either side of your neck and held you gingerly, pushing your head back to meet his caresses.
"theo.." you sighed, a smile playing on your mouth, but despite your protestations, you were melting into his touch, your eyes falling closed. you felt a thumb brush your lips, then smear the swipe of chapstick you had applied prior to laying down with him.
"can't help it," you heard him whisper, pecking you one more time. "okay, done. go on."
5 minutes after starting your rambling up once more, he was kissing you again. you didn't fight after that.
.
for a while, i'll just be posting remakes of my work on my other blog, just to get this one started.
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darthgloris · 3 months
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2AM THOUGHTS #8: unburnt!Vader is attracted to a Jedi
The first time you saw Darth Vader in person, you were pleasantly surprised: you thought he would be this disfigured shell of a man that couldn't tell right from wrong, just another Sith with a mangled and scarred face.
But, oh, my God, was he the most gorgeous man you had ever laid eyes on.
From his sharp jawline to his slightly upturned nose to his cheekbones that seemed to be carved in marble, even the scar over his eye was attractive. And his eyes, his tantalising crystal blues had this intensity to them, this determination. It made your knees wobble for a split second, and it distracted you enough to almost get you shot.
From then on, at every battlefield you and him exchanged innocent glances that soon turned into eye-fucking, and at some point you began engaging in lightsaber duels. The tension was so palpable, it could be cut with a knife.
Now you were nervous, to say the least. The first time you and your troops would be engaging in combat on the Death Star, Vader's official station. You didn't want to fail the Rebellion, and you trusted that the ambition and importance of the undertaking would help you fight more efficiently.
The battle didn't go at all how you expected it to.
"Ahh, fuck, angel..." Vader groaned, relentlessly pounding you from behind. Your cheek was smushed against the wall, drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth with every mewl, and your breasts were pressed flush into the cold surface of the wall. His scent was rubbing off all over you, almost as if he wanted to mark his territory, his broad shoulders swallowed your smaller figure as his embrace engulfed you entirely, each snap of his hips made the metal shelves of the closet room creak and stutter with the sheer force of his movements.
"Vader..." you sobbed, one hand gripping the shelf to keep you grounded to reality while the other rested against the wall for stability. It felt like each time he pulled out, he dragged out your whole spine with him.
"Listen to you, moaning my name like a bitch in heat. Bet you want everyone hearing who's fucking you, huh?" He grinned, pawing at your breasts through your robes. The way his armour brushed against your back made you shiver, the feeling of his large frame turning you on more, if that was even possible. "Only a whore like you could have left her own troops alone just to get fucked good. I mean, how do they even take you seriously?"
You let out a loud cry at the words, whimpering and babbling his name. "Shh, quiet down for me, angel. Don't want anyone to see what belongs to you, do you?" You could only manage to shake your head, your brain could barely compose a coherent thought. He was fucking you too good.
"Good fucking girl..." he groaned, soft growls rumbling deep within his throat as his hips slapped harder against your ass.
"Vader... I- I'm close..." you stuttered. In a swift movement, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, pushing your back against the wall as he shoved his cock in your entrance once again and slammed into you impossibly harder, making you inhale sharply and bite your fist to keep from screaming.
He grabbed your jaw with a surprisingly gentle grip, "Look at me, baby girl. I want you to look me in the eyes while you cum."
You gazed into his icy blues, a passionate sparkle to them as he stared back into your own eyes, and you felt your climax growing closer by the second. He brought his hand down to circle your clit and toyed with the wet folds, the pad of his thumb prodding at your sensitive pearl.
The overstimulation made you sob as the coil in your lower stomach finally snapped, making you cling to his shoulders as your hips curled repeatedly. "That's it, goooood girl..." Vader drawled, a guttural groan escaping his lips as your warmth flooded all around him. His thrusts grew sloppier and his cock throbbed inside you, indicating he wasn't going to last much longer. "Fuck- angel, you're gonna make me cum..." his voice cracked as his breathing picked up.
With a last particularly knee-weakening plunge, he threw his head back and groaned, this time slightly higher in pitch, and his aggressive bucking mellowed into soft strokes as he gritted his teeth in pure bliss while he rode out his high.
Vader sighed and slumped into you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as his chest heaved with passion and intensity. "That was... fucking... amazing..." he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. "My perfect girl..."
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iamumbra195 · 7 months
Text
Random One Piece incorrect quotes cause I'm bored
Some of these are modern au though
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
*Sanji's not there*
Usopp: HELP! I TOLD LUFFY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!
Zoro, pouring alcohol directly into a cereal bowl:
Zoro: And you thought I could help?
...
Luffy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
Nami : Wasn't Zoro with you?
Zoro: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised
...
Law: I trust Mugiwara-ya.
Penguin: You think he knows what he's doing?
Law: I wouldn't go that far.
...
Sabo: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Ace, confused: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Sabo: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Luffy: edible
...
Nami: We need to get through this locked door. Usopp, give me your credit card.
Usopp: Here.
Nami, pocketing it: Thanks. Luffy, kick down the door.
...
Chopper: You know those things will kill you, right?
Zoro, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.
Sanji, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.
Luffy: *Nods while eating raw cookie dough*
...
Robin: Why is Luffy so sad?
Nami: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes
Robin: And...?
Nami: He got Buggy
*Zoro cackling in the background
...
Zoro: Self care is actually getting into fights with randos in dark alleys.
Nami: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!
Kin'emon, trying to be poetic: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!
Usopp: Lmao self care is taking Luffy's birthday meat cake just so I can eat the frosting.
Luffy: If you touch my meat cake I’ll make you eat your hands.
Sanji, losing his mind: WHY IS THERE FROSTING ON MEAT?
...
Franky, about Jinbe: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.
Robin: Are we stealing them?
Brook: New or used?
Franky, cackling: Wonderful responses, both of you.
...
Smoker: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.
Sanji: Shit.
Usopp: Wait, three?
Smoker: Yeah?
Nami: OH MY GOD ZORO FELL OFF!!!
...
Kin'emon: Tonight, one of you has betrayed us.
Ashura: Is it me?
Kin'emon: No, it’s not you.
Denjiro: Is it me, Kin?
Kin'emon: It’s not you either.
Kanjuro: Is it me, Kin'emon?
Kin'emon, bleeding from several debilitating injuries:
Kin'emon, mockingly: Is IT mE kiN'eMOn?
...
Usopp: Can I be frank with you guys?
Luffy, confused: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.
Chopper: Can I still be Chopper?
Franky, snickering: Shh, let Frank speak.
...
Sabo: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!
Koala: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD
Sabo: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ROBIN-CHAN WITH ME
Hack, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.
...
Law, walking into his submarine: Hello, people who do not belong here.
Zoro: Hey.
Sanji: Hi.
Robin: Hello.
Chopper: Hey!
Law: I gave you my vivre card for emergencies only!
Luffy, grinning: We were out of meat.
...
Sanji: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.
Luffy, drinking meat: Why do you say that?
...
Zoro: Do you take constructive criticism?
Nami: I only take cash or credit.
...
Koala: Why are you on the floor?
Sabo: I'm depressed.
Sabo: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ivankov, please.
...
Robin: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?
*everyone looks ay Karasu
Karasu: What? How am I supposed to know?
Lindbergh: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.
Karasu: *sighs*
Karasu: You wouldn't be trapped
...
Vivi: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.
Nami: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?
Vivi: Yes!
Usopp: ... I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.
...
Usopp: WHY. why did you give Luffy a KNIFE?!
Zoro, shrugging: He said he felt unsafe.
Usopp: Now I feel unsafe!
Zoro: ... would you like a knife?
...
Dragon: What did you do with the target's body?
Sabo : What didn’t I do with the body?
Dragon:
Sabo: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.
...
Luffy, texting Ace: Ace! Help I’m being kidnapped
Ace: Where are you?
Luffy: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help.
Ace: I’ll call Gramps.
Garp, answering their cell: Y’ello?
Ace: Where’s Luffy? He texted me that he was being kidnapped.
Garp: Luffy? Whaddya mean, he's right next to me-
Garp, who shaved his head:
Garp: I’ll call you back. *hangs up*
Garp: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD!
Luffy: WHO ARE YOU?!
...
*Ace, Sabo and Luffy sitting in jail together*
Sabo: So who should we call?
Ace: I’d call Gramps, but I feel safer in jail
...
Roger: Garp, my old arch enemy.
Garp: ... I thought I was your only arch enemy?
Roger: I have a life outside of you, Garp
...
Zoro: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.
Luffy: The cow???
Zoro: What?
Sanji: *disgusted shudder* LUFFY, W H Y?
...
Usopp: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion berry?
Zoro: Nami can stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house and erase my debt
Luffy: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 billion.
Zoro: Good thinking.
...
Kin'emon: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.
Denjiro: You were flirting with O'Tsuru.
Kin'emon: So what? She's my wife.
Denjiro: You asked her if she were single.
Kin'emon:
Denjiro: And then you cried when she said she wasn't
...
Marco: What time is it?
Ace: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out
Ace: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*
Izou: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING
Ace, proudly: It’s 2 am
...
Luffy: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.
Law: You people already know too much about me.
Kidd: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.
...
Sabo, an enabler: Tell Ace about the birds and the bees.
Luffy: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.
...
Brook: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.
...
Zoro: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.
...
Law: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.
Bepo: Captain, no.
...
Law: Nothing in life is free.
Chopper: Love is free!
Luffy: Adventure is free!
Robin: Knowledge is free.
Nami: Everything is free if you take it without paying.
...
Usopp: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Luffy will and will not eat.
Franky: Grass? Yes!
Usopp: Moss? Yes!!
Franky: Leaves? Ohh, yes!
Usopp: Shoelaces? Strange but true!
Franky: Worms? Sometimes!
Usopp: Rocks? Usually nah.
Franky: Twigs? Usually!
Usopp: Zoro's cooking? Inconclusive!
Chopper: How did you… test this?
Usopp: You just hand him stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it.
Chopper: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.
Nami: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT?
Robin: What about humans? He tried to eat Crocodile once
Everyone: ...
Usopp: I think I might be too afraid to ask
(Someone pls draw this one XD)
...
Betty: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?
Koala: *turning to Sabo* How tall are you?
...
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
That's it, this took forever to write lol
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natailiatulls07 · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media
Lando Norris x Female!reader
Summary - She's a workaholic, he just wants to help but she won't listen
Warning - Reader working herself raw, angst but fluff ending
A/n - I'm trying to answer all your requests, I promise, but I've been struggling alot with my mental health and college recently so please be patient 🫶🏻
-
She was at it again. Every once in a while Y/n would work herself to the bone with her work, her fitness, etc. Every time there was a routine to it - An unhealthy and tiring routine. It was just something she’d do and no one knew how to pull her out of that routine. Well one person did and over time he learnt how to pull her out of it - Her own best friend.
Each time he’d collected her up into his arms, away from her desk and through the hall to her plush and abandoned couch. Lando would wrap himself around her, shielding her from the world and he would help her relax. That man was her safe space. Every single time.
-
“I hate when you do this to yourself” He mumbles. His green eyes flicker down to her, seeing her shoulder so tense pains him really. 
A small and sarcastic chuckle escapes her lips. They had this conversation before and it’s becoming repetitive now - maybe she should listen to him sometime soon. “Mmh I know” Y/n mumbles into his firm chest, she can feel his calloused hand stroking her hair. The formula one driver lets out a heavy sigh, much like the female on his chest he also knows the common conversation between the two. 
A frown tugs on the ends of her lips as Y/n pulls her head away from his chest. “I need to get back to work…” She mumbles, actively avoiding eye contact and moving to stand up from her couch. 
Immediately Lando can see how tense and rigid she is again - It was hard not to notice it. “No no, you need rest” He urges, his British accent is soft and worried. “You’re wearing yourself out, Y/n. Please just listen to me, I don’t want to see you hurt” Although it felt like he was controlling her, the man just really didn’t like seeing like this. 
Shaking her head rapidly, Y/n struggled to tug her hands away from his. Having taken her hands in his, Lando did this to slow her and to calm her. “Lando please, I need to work…” It was getting heated now. 
There was a look of concern behind his eyes. “Y/n, you need to rest.” He wasn’t about to let her walk right back into her death. “You are not going to work. All you’ve done is work yourself to the ground. Y/n do you even hear me right now?”
“No! It’s okay Lando…” She’s pleading with him now - not understanding the damage she was doing to herself.
Lando continues to grip onto her wrists, he was determined to get his best friend to take a deserved break. “Y/n, it’s far from okay!” His voice held conviction. “A break is what you need, this cycle you’ve put your body through will eventually lead you to breaking down and we both know that it’s unhealthy!” Unknowingly tears began to form in the white of his eyes the more she resisted. 
“Get out.” Silence followed the two words. Never did they fight nor did Y/n ever raise her voice. “You need to get out of my apartment. Now.” There’s no room for discussion.
His jaw falls and he’s in total shock. “What?” The driver breathes out. The grip on Y/n’s wrists loosens and falls. Having been nothing but supportive and kind, he felt betrayed. And then he shook his head - completely refusing to leave even when practically ordered to.
“You need to get out of my apartment. Get out now!” There’s venom behind her voice as she shouts.
“No!” The two are in a shouting match by now. Lando could feel his frustration boiling and his temper becoming untethered. “I’m not leaving you like this. You need to see that rest is needed. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t” His fists clenched. All the formula one driver wanted to do was to help - not hurt her. 
Y/n sighs, realising that he won’t listen to her. “Fine. You can stay but don’t think you can stop me from working…” She narrows her eyes, pointing a finger towards the British man opposite her. “Unlike you, Lando Norris, some of us have to work our ass’ off every single day to just live!” 
Maybe she was right, maybe he was being selfish. But Y/n was killing herself with every coming day, anyone could see it. All Lando could do was sigh and nod his head. At least she was allowing him to stay, this way he could help. 
“Thank you…”
-
It had been two hours since Lando had seen Y/n. She had left him to settle herself in her office, back to the non stop typing. He was getting anxious and worried now.
Pausing the film he was watching, the driver moved from the couch and down the bright hall to her office. Listening from outside, he hadn’t heard anything. And when he slowly opened the door, there she was asleep. 
She looked so peaceful and relaxed. The corners of Landos lips curved into a smile. He really did love her and to see her finally at ease made him happy.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed…” He whispered, wrapping his arms around her before picking her up and carrying her to bed. Lando made his way out of the office and down the hall again to her bedroom.
As he was trying to open the door, Y/n started to stir. “Lando…?” Her voice filled with confusion and tiredness. Opening her eyes, the woman looked up at him to see his growing goatee and loveable smile. 
“Shh…go back to sleep sweetheart…” His voice was soft and gentle. Y/n felt like a princess right now as she slowly closed her eyes and fell back into a delicate slumber. “I love you so much…” Lando whispered as he lowered her down onto the plush bed - she didn’t hear him, he could only wish she did.
-
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katiapostsss · 29 days
Text
DRABBLE:
hayden can't help but kiss you sometimes
you cannot tell me his love language isn't physical touch.
〰️
once hayden kisses you, he can't stop. you're just so intoxicating to him, so perfect. it's like a drug he can't get enough of, a dream he doesn't want to wake up from. it's your face, and the way your lips slide on his, and the feeling of leaning in and pulling away, and holding you in his arms.
you weren't much for talking. when it was necessary, sure, sometimes when you were happy, or angry, or had any other strong feelings that called for words. it was hayden who brought out the talker in you. because, for whatever reason, one that was unbeknownst to you, you loved to talk to him.
it was like years of bottled words you never cared to share before came pouring off your tongue the moment a favored topic came to mind, as if they'd been banging at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out, and you'd just never known you had needed to say them. in those moments, a feeling of eagerness caught your heart, like you couldn't pronounce the syllables at the same rate your mind thought them, and all you wanted to do was show your boyfriend exactly everything that you were saying as you said it.
he had struck that chord in you just now. "i've never heard of it," was what got you speaking—and quite quickly—of train rides and a german girl and death. the book thief.
yes, these were your favorite times. saying but not fast enough, showing but not strongly enough. it was late into the night, and you were laying before him on your bed, his hands running through your hair and his mouth quirked into the beginnings and teasings of a smile. you didn't know it, but these were his favorite moments too. when you got so immensely excited, that it was evident in your every movement, your skin glowing, your blood prickling. hayden couldn't help but pull you closer, feel tempted to kiss you right then and there.
instead, he laid quietly across from you, relishing the twinkle in your eyes and the faint energy thrumming off of you, feeding the temptation more and more. "i don't know. she was kinda just mean the whole book, y'know, with the yelling and things," you were rambling, "but it was obvious you were supposed to like her at some point. especially when michael died and all." his finger traced the line of your collarbone, and he was stupidly, absently nodding along. "but i never really liked her anyways. i felt bad for her of course, but— wait— that's not the point. i was trying to say—" hayden couldn't take it any longer.
his eyes flicked to your lips, and without warning, he dipped his head and kissed you. you were caught off guard, your hands, which had been toying with the hem of his shirt, traveling to his chest and balling into fists. it was sweet and short, but it ceased your spiel enough to keep you quiet even when he pulled away, his face littered with adoration. you barely even got the workings of a huffed laugh in before he was leaning in again. "hayden—" this time, his kisses trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and then your neck. "stop that— i'm trying to—" a giggle, "—explain."
"i'm listening," he uttered against your skin in return, pulling back and staring intently into your eyes. his gaze fell to your lips, which he pecked again. broad hands traveled to the crooks of either side of your neck and held you gingerly, pushing your head back to meet his caresses.
"hay.." you sighed, a smile playing on your mouth, but despite your protestations, you were melting into his touch, your eyes falling closed. you felt a thumb brush your lips, then smear the swipe of chapstick you had applied prior to laying down with him.
"can't help it," you heard him whisper, pecking you one more time. "okay, done. go on."
5 minutes after starting your rambling up once more, he was kissing you again. you didn't fight after that.
.
giggling and blushing as i write this this is a cry for help. late night scenarios w/ hayden 🤝 me
i was listening to last kiss tv and mother said "how you'd kiss me when i was in the middle of saying something" so i had to deliver as seen fit
requests are open 😊😊
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iidgm · 1 month
Text
a little something i wrote at 1 am
word count: 1065
You sighed heavily, your limbs giving out under you without prior warning.
These chases are exhausting you, and you have no idea for how much longer you’ll be able to keep up with these toys without dying in the process.
Not like you stayed dead, anyways.
Strange voices in your mind ordering you to get up, and somehow waking up moments before your death… You’ve learned to not question it. At least not for now.
You check your surroundings carefully, trying your best to keep your heavy breathing as silent as possible as to not attract any more toys.
Dried pool, giant rubber ducks…
Ominous looking cell doors.
Ah shit, those are the only way forward, aren’t they?
You groan as you lift yourself up with your fists, your GrabPack feeling more like a hindrance than a helping tool at the moment. Damn designers.
You drag your heavy legs towards the cell doors, dread creeping up your spine.
Why are there CELLS on the POOL?!
You enter a dimly candle-lit corridor with a huge hole in a corner. You decide to not approach it, instead you keep going forward.
The putrid, rotting flesh and gore assaults your senses. The smell being unbearable, the sounds it made against your shoes as you walked disgusted you and the dried remains visible made your stomach churn.
But the only way is forward.
You look into the each cell individually, searching for something to help you open the doors at the end of the corridor—
“You… You’re Poppy’s Angel. Come to save us!”
You jump at the sudden deep voice behind you, turning around in panic with flare gun ready to shoot. Then you see it.
See him.
Dogday.
“Nothing left to save, not here…” He continues. “You’re in Catnap’s home, Angel. Their home.”
You try to swallow back the lump in your throat.
Or what’s left of Dogday.
His bottom half is ripped off, only a tight belt acting as a tourniquet preventing his insides to spill out completely. You want to throw up.
“A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry.” He sounds so defeated. “They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin– And eat away at you bit by little bit, fill what feels empty inside themselves.”
Your body moves without your input towards the canine, slowly as to not startle or scare him. Not like anything would achieve that at this point, you think.
“That... thing... CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” He moves his arms, secured by shackles to emphasize this. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate– and in return, they are fed.”
Your hands slowly move towards Dogday’s face. He doesn’t react.
“We tried to fight it, The Prototype's control.” He takes a deep breath. “I'm... the last of the Smiling Critters.” His voice shakes a little, looking away from you. Your heart breaks further for him.
“I–” You try to start, but he interrupts you.
“Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live!” He looks at you, his dark voids for eyes locking on your face. His voice cracks again, but he sounds determined. You make up your mind in that second.
“I’m not leaving without you.” You say firmly, before working your way through his shackles as fast as you can. He makes a sound of shock as his arm drops, followed by the other. He falls into your arms, limp and dirty.
“Wh– Angel, I’m a lost cause! You must flee!” He pleads, his hand closing around your forearm with the little strength he has.
“I’m sick and tired of people telling me who I can and cannot save. So strap in, Doggy boy, I’m getting you out of here.” You say with finality, shifting him on your back in a way he can hold himself up somewhat comfortably.
He doesn’t protest any further.
You look around, trying to find a way out of the cellar. The doors you came through somehow closed, so that option is discarded.
“Oh no... OH NO!” You hear Dogday cry out, and you turn your head to see what he’s on about.
Oh shit.
A mass of ruined critters start to crawl their way out of the walls towards you. Before you can react, the floor gives in beneath you, falling through a hole in front of the closed gates.
“Hold on tight!” You warn before running your way through the narrow foam tunnels. Your flare gun manages to scare the little toys that come across your away and gives you a dim light source in the abyssal darkness the Playground was.
You slide down one of the three slides you are offered, and keep running as you can.
And then you see it.
A platform to the surface.
You only have to make a purple hand jump to get there.
The GrabPack was made for only one person, though. Would you be able to make it?
Only one way to find out.
“Be ready!” You shout as you run at full speed, gaining momentum.
'Wait— nononO ANGEL WAIT—' You hear him yell in a panicked tone, but you don't slow down.
With a leap of faith, you press the pressure plate with the purple hand and the world slows down.
For a second, you’re suspended in the air with Dogday’s arms around you firmly, and on the next, you and your companion crash on the platform so hard it knocks the air out of both of you.
You quickly press the button for it to go up before collapsing. Seems like Dogday had let go of you once he saw you’d make it.
You pant in exhaustion, the adrenaline washing off now that you’re somewhat safe. The back of your hand rests on your forehead, your eyes closed to prevent the artificial light from entering your retinas.
You did it.
You hear a deep, husky laugh not far away from you, and you laugh along with him.
You did it!
You managed to save someone!
You two laugh together in a manic manner as the platform lifts you two to the surface level of Playcare.
You’d think what to tell the others once you’re there. For now, you’ll enjoy this short moment of bliss with your new friend.
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trashcanfanfics · 1 year
Note
Can you please write a oneshot about Alastor after he had a fight with reader, and he clearly was the one in the wrong. What does he do to make it up? Does he realize it himself or does someone like Rosie or someone from the hotel have to point it out to him. Does he feel guilty? Did he make reader cry? Sorry if this is too much or too sad.
What a way to rise from the dead
He doesn't know what happened, really. One second he was telling jokes and you were laughing, the next you were in a heated argument. Something about him trying to push a punchline that you thought was hurtful and him disagreeing heavily. The argument was brief and he just didn't close his damned mouth fast enough.
"Perhaps you should learn to just take a joke, my dear. Wouldn't want to become a flat tire, now, would we?" His ever present smile held more condescension than he'd ever directed towards you before. your fists shook at your sides and you glared at him with all the rage and heartbreak you felt.
"I need space." And with that, you'd turned on your heel and left the hotel entirely. Alastor shrugged it off and sat down at the concierge-slash-bar to enjoy a drink.
It had been hours since then and Alastor hadn't made any moves to try to find you or remedy the situation. He did notice that his drinks have all tasted sour. At some point he knew he was going to have to face you again. The feeling in his stomach was curious but he was sure it's because of the amount of giggle water in his system.
"God, has anyone seen that asshole?" A certain feminine spider came down the stairs. "I've got a thing in thirty minutes and they still have my fuckin' glue." Angel rounded the pillar and looked at Alastor, tipsy, and squinted.
"They haven't been here most the day." Husk was grumpily cleaning a glass. "Why don't you text 'em?" Angel flopped halfway on the bar and half on a stool, a little too close for Alastor's liking. He decided that he was too sloshed to care much. The spider sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I tried that!" All four of his arms raised up in exasperation. "They ain't answerin'! I sent three already! Ugh, I'm gonna have to go to the store!" Two sets of arms crossed to show his annoyance. Alastor paused at this. It wasn't like you not to answer after the second text. Were you injured? Had you gotten lost? Was someone else bothering you right now? Was someone...entertaining you? More than he did? He couldn't bare it and stood abruptly, only to stumble slightly. The Radio Demon regained his footing and rushed into the shadows, leaving behind the two sinners. He'd ignored Angel's snicker at his less than stable start and focused more on finding your energy. It was harder in this state but he was determined.
You were sitting in a secluded garden of blood red roses near the more peaceful part of Cannibal Colony. It had been a few hours since you left and you keep going over how Alastor insinuated you were boring for not wanting to be the butt of a joke. It hurt you and made you angry at him for trying to turn it back on you. You'd spent too much of your life hearing other people tell you that you're "too sensitive" or "need to take a joke". You won't tolerate it in death and especially not from your boyfriend.
A loud thump ripped you from your thoughts. You looked in the direction of the noise and see Alastor, halfway in a rosebush. He hardly took notice as his eyes met yours. His smile almost looked strained and his eyes glassy.
"Darling! There you are!" He stumbled out of the bush, pants ripped enough to almost see his leg. He rushed to your side and tripped, falling to his knees. You looked down at him as he grasped your legs and looked up at you, slightly dazed.
"Are...Are you drunk?" His smile lifted at your voice and he sighed dreamily up at you. "Oh my god." He tried to get up again but his foot caught a rock and he slipped back down. You stumbled a little as he grasped your legs tighter during this.
"Dar-darling, where have you been? It's been hours!" He looked back up at you. "I missed you! Can we get home?" You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Alastor, The Radio Demon, was drunk and on his knees in front of you. A small part of you felt powerful like this, but you quickly tucked it away. You sighed.
"Yeah, let's get you home." You reached down and helped him to his feet. He leaned on you as you both made your way out of the garden. "I can't believe you're out in public like this." He giggled, actually giggled, in response and sighed as he leaned more on you.
"Mwen sonje ou ba ou dabitid mwen." You were sure that was a language but it was slightly slurred from his lips. With no other ideas, you pat his back and continued on. He took a deep breath and then disappeared into the shadows. You stopped and looked around.
"Alastor? What the fuck?" You groaned in annoyance. "Alastor!" You trudged back towards the hotel in a huff. He was going to have so much apologizing to do tomorrow.
Alastor, however, had face planted right into his bed. He rolled over and looked around. His room in the hotel was spinning and he couldn't see his darling, dearest, sweetest love anywhere. Had he not brought them with him? Did they go away again? His smile wobbled and his vision grew blurry. Was he not what they wanted? Hasn't he always provided for them? Did they not like his cooking? Or his jokes? Oh. Oh that was why. The joke from earlier. Tears dripped down his face. Oh no.
You made your way into the hotel and up the first flight of steps before heading for the elevator. Angel's voice called to you from halfway down the hall.
"Where's my fuckin' glue!" The only response he got was a quick "on my dresser" before the elevator doors shut. You tapped your foot impatiently. If he wasn't here you were going to scream. Idly, you wondered if he was even drunk and just trying to get you to interact with him. He didn't like going too long without talking to you unless it was his choice, and even then it wouldn't be more than two hours max. You'd gone nearly five before he found you.
The end of the hallway on the fourth floor was usually dark due to the fixture breaking about a year back and no one fixing it. It was the way Alastor liked it. "Easier to get a good spook in and deter those who bother me", he'd say. It never really bothered you, oddly enough. Especially now, since you could hear the muffled sniffles of your lover. You knocked on the door.
"Alastor? Im coming in!" You only got halfway in the door before you were yanked into the room and the door slammed shut. Tight arms wrapped around you and held you close to a heaving chest.
"I thought you left again! I'm sorry! For my cooking! For not giving you enough! For my jokes!" He sobbed. You blinked. Just how drunk was he? You weren't sure this was the same Alastor that would rip someone's face off, roast it, feed it back to them, and then laugh as they cried.
"Well, one of those is correct." You brought you hands up and pushed him back before tugging him to the bed. "Let's just get you to go to sleep, okay, we can talk more in the morning." God, he was a mess. Tears made his eyes redder than they were, his face was splotchy and snot was dripping out of his nose.
"But!" You didn't let him finish as you pulled back the covers and pushed him into bed. "Darling! I'm sorry!" You rolled your eyes and positioned him on his side before tucking him in.
"Okay, tell me about it tomorrow." You gently fixed his hair and kissed his forehead. His eyes closed and he hummed low. It wasn't long before his breathing became even and he was snoring slightly.
The next morning you opened your eyes to see Alastor, fit as a fiddle, staring down at you with a tray of breakfast foods in his hands. You screamed in surprise and sighed heavily after recognizing your boyfriend. Sitting up, you yawn.
"Good morning, Darling! I made you breakfast!" He set the tray down over your legs and smiled wider. You looked up at his with an eyebrow raised.
"If you think that I'm just gonna forget what happened yesterday, you're wrong." Your sentence made him droop a little.
"I'm sorry, for the joke and whatever else I did yesterday." He clicks his fingers together slightly. "I...Don't remember much." You snorted at that.
"I guess you wouldn't, but i guess...I forgive you. Just don't make any jokes like that again." You looked at the tray, which had huge servings of your favorite breakfast foods. "Now, are you going to help me eat this or not?" He eagerly jumped into the bed and beside you, making you giggle.
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1pcii · 3 months
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Soul Eater X One Piece Zoro n Luffy designs :D
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(click for better quality // no reposts please but reblogs are greatly appreciated!)
I know having zoro be the miester is a weird choice but hear me out! I was mainly inspired off this crossover artwork and the brainrot led me to develop my own au ideas around it. I've structured it so non of SE's canon deathsythe's exist, including(!!!) Justin Law. So the idea that a weapon can become a deathsythe independently has not been proven yet.
Kuina (weapons)'s inner conflict revolves around this, and her father (miester) is the one who perpetuates the idea further. it's been a while since I've read/watched SE so I will need a huge refresher on everything but I do think the themes of weapon/miester inequality could translate the sexism one surrounding swordsmanship' well. Zoro after her death decides to take on her dream along his own of being the world's first(and best!) independent deathsythe.
and while Luffy does become his miester later on (their "my ambition means nothing if I cannot protect my captain" moment) they're still pretty independent, zoro fighting like Justin as a lone weapon and Luffy fighting with his fists and DF (which are translated as special abilities that are passed down through souls of previous users (ace and sabo angst I'm looking at you)).
@spyder-fyre (hope you don't mind the tag!) pointed out how Luffy is probably alot more similar to black star in terms of personality so Im thinking about how I'll work with that, I do think black stars 'larger-than-life' ambitions are very similar to Luffy's too! not entirely sure what I want to do w him yet but I'm open to ideas and will probably do a re-read for ideas too.
also what do y'all think of this :?
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XDc
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months
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I've been thinking about this for a while. May I request Kerian battling a "snow on Mt. Silver" Reader? Reader was the strongest trainer at Blueberry academy and champion of the BB league until they willingly handed off the title to Drayton and climbed to the highest point in the polar biome to wait for a strong challenger. Kerian, upon becoming champion, gets wind of them and decides to battle them. Things go bad quickly as reader is a ghost/corpse. Kerian does get rescued but is traumatized.
Oh this is a GOOD concept,,,give him that near-death trauma waaaaay before he even learns about terapagos
Also ik the weather conditions in the terarium are all simulated, but let's just say it malfunctioned and resulted in an actual blizzard at the very peak of the polar biome that killed reader + their Pokémon off (yet no one knows this)
......
"Have you heard from [y/n] lately, Drayton?"
"Nope. Last time I checked, they're still chilling at the Polar Biome peak, waiting for a "worthy challenger"."
"Was that pun intended?"
"...maybe, haha. But y'know, I kinda miss seeing their face around campus. I mean..they were our club's first champion, and to this day I still don't know why they handed the title over to me and bailed on-"
"Hold on, there was a champion before you and...you didn't even fight them for the title? No wonder I was able to beat you so easily."
"Oh great, just the person I hoped to see." With a dry chuckle, Drayton turned his head only slightly upon seeing Kieran approaching the clubroom's table with a deep scowl, eyes bleak.
Of course, the new champion of BB Academy believed he had every right to barge into the Elite Four's conversations--given he was having a bit of a "power trip" ever since gaining the title yesterday.
But the dragon trainer elected to ignore him, instead turning back to the others. "Anyways..I'm sure [y/n]'s already moved onto better things. No way could they still be up there after all that weird stuff happened with the weather."
"You mean..the time there was an actual blizzard in the terarium??" Lacey gasped, before shaking her head and making an "x" pose. "Bzzzt. Nope. Impossible. They sent a search and rescue team in case anyone in the outdoor classroom got stranded up there. And they didn't find a soul!"
"Yeah!" Crispin nodded in agreement. "I get they were the strongest trainer in this entire school, but why would they risk-?"
"I'm sorry, they're the strongest? Why am I only hearing about this [y/n] now?"
With a small yelp, he turned to the purple-haired boy. "Wah!! I-I totally forgot you were here, sorry.." He mumbled, slightly cowering under his harsh gaze. "Obviously you're the strongest! [Y/n]'s not important..d-don't worry about them. They're history-"
"But you all seem pretty convinced they're still here." Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the group. "And you just told me where I might find them." He clenched his fists, already shaking with anticipation.
"Easy there, champ.." Drayton huffed in annoyance. "It's only a rumor that they're still hanging around. They weren't much of a talker, so we have no clue where they are. Could be in another region for all we know."
"..........."
"Don't tell me....you're thinking about charging up that mountain all by yourself to see if they're there, are you? That's suicide."
"I have to agree with Drayton." Amarys nodded. "The staff is still trying to determine the cause of the anomalous weather patterns. We aren't banned from venturing up there, but until they can find a solution, it's ill-advised."
"Exactly!" Lacey joined in. "I heard one of the rescue team members had to get treated for frostbite. And it wasn't from some ice-type Pokémon, but the blizzard itself. This is serious, Kieran!"
"....I'll be fine. Your scare tactics won't work on me."
"Huh?! But we're not-"
"Enough. I'm gonna go find them myself, seeing as you're all too cowardly to do so." The champion sneered. "If a worthy challenger is what they're after, then I'll give them one. I'll let them know there's a new champion in town..and that he's the strongest trainer in this academy. Not them."
With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, mumbling under his breath things that made the four feel uneasy.
"How pathetic. The Elite Four..scared of a little snow and ice? Whatever. I'll show them. I'll show [y/n]. I'll show them ALL..."
After the doors slammed shut behind him, they felt the tension still lingering in the air--as did every other club member who was hanging out on the sofas and by the BP computer.
"Man." Drayton broke the silence, sitting up to stretch his arms. "That kid catches wind of some random stranger who's just a little stronger than him, and boom. He's obsessed. Hope he doesn't get himself killed up there."
"Should one of us go after him?" Lacey muttered in concern, her gaze not leaving the doors.
"I-I think that would make him angrier.." Crispin shook his head. "He's got an Incineroar, so maybe it'll keep him toasty."
"That is true. He could also either confirm or deny [y/n]'s presence atop that mountain." Amarys spoke up. "I only hope he properly prepares himself for the long journey..and that no other weather anomalies arise.."
..........
"They weren't kidding..i-it's freezing...but we're doing this, Incineroar."
"Cinn.." Huffing, the Heel Pokémon remained beside its trainer as the two made their ascension towards the summit. They couldn't see any rest spots nor healing centers below them due to the snowfall being so heavy.
Even the teraglobe was barely visible.
Yet Kieran was persistent as ever in his goal, keeping his jacket zipped up and Incineroar close to him. He didn't care about the fact his hands were already growing numb, nor the cold biting at his legs leaving them weak.
He was the new champion. He had to let everyone in this school know and defeat whoever could threaten the position he worked so hard to achieve.
If not [Florian/Juliana]..then it was you.
You're someone he's never even met, but knowing you were the very first BB League champion and had a big-enough ego to come up here and wait for a strong challenger...was something he couldn't turn a blind eye to.
No.
Not if he wanted to be the best in this entire school and eliminate any competition.
Absolutely nothing was gonna stop him.
Not even the fact that his Incineroar's flames were struggling to stay alive, gradually exhausting the feline as it struggled to keep up. It began having chills itself, although it knew better than to disobey its trainer when he demanded to keep the fire going.
Surely it can tough it out for him, right?
After what seemed like an eternity, Kieran finally reached the top of the mountain and saw you: the lone figure waiting for them both. Much of the snowfall had already cleared up allowing him to see you in a cap that concealed your eyes and a BB Academy uniform.
You were looking at something up in the sky, until you heard the sounds of shuffling and turned around, looking down with surprise at the challenger.
This kid...came up all this way to see you? Impressive.
His Incineroar looked a little worse for wear, the flames around its belt dying out, yet it stuck close to its trainer's side as he stared at you with a cold hard gaze.
"Are you [y/n], former BB League Champion?" He questioned.
"........."
"Not much of a talker, huh? Guess they were right. I'm Kieran, or better yet..Champion Kieran."
Although you barely gave a response aside from a slight tilt of your head, he just smirked. "Yeah, you heard me. I'm the new champion and president of the League Club, not that dumb dragon tamer. Because unlike him, I worked hard to earn this title. I don't wait around for things to be handed to me on a silver platter."
".........."
"You think being champion is a joke? Something you can just pawn off to somebody when you get bored of it?"
"........."
"I thought so. That means you never deserved the title to begin with.." He scoffed, irritated by your silence. "Anyway, they said you were the strongest, but I'm here to change that!" Pointing up at you, he shouted over the wind. "You wanted a worthy opponent..well HERE I AM!!! Incineroar, Porygon-Z...show them the power of a true BB League Champion!!"
He took out his Virutal Pokémon's pokeball, ready to send it into battle.
But it didn't come out after he tossed it to the ground.
"...huh?" Confused, Kieran picked up the pokeball, wondering why it wasn't opening. Then he noticed frost coating the button, practically icing it over entirely. "No, no, no.....what is this?!"
For some reason it was jammed, and he discovered that all the other pokeballs in his bag were like that, too, rendering them inaccessible.
But how?
It shouldn't be possible for all of them to freeze simultaneously...their insulation should be top-tier.
Brushing off his worries, he glared at you. "Whatever. I can win a single-battle, too! I've developed strategies for this. Incineroar, it's all up to you now"
Nodding, the Heel Pokémon cracked its knuckles and stepped forward. But as it looked at you, it began shivering all of the sudden, feeling a drastic drop in temperature as the flames on its belt struggled still.
It wasn't just the weather giving it chills..but you.
Something about you just seemed...off, but it couldn't exactly tell its trainer what that was. Nor would he probably care.
Whether it liked it or not, it had to win this battle.
Wordlessly, you stepped down so you could fight on equal ground and took out a single pokeball. It was covered in frost, with much of the red paint faded, and it looked awfully damaged--especially the button.
Yet somehow it was functional as you sent out your first Pokémon.
And the sight of it was so grisly, Kieran felt genuinely nauseated, unable to do anything except stare in shock.
"Wh...What the..."
It appeared as a sickly frostbit creature, with its colors dull and empty sockets in place of its eyes. Not to mention the heavy wounds littering its body, which seemed fresh. It's like you ran out of healing items and never bothered to look for any more.
And its cry was pained.
Considering how much Kieran himself loved and treasured Pokémon, he was gravely concerned and had second thoughts about fighting one in such a horrible state...
But that little voice in his head told him that refusing to fight your team would make him look weak. You'd probably think he was weak for backing down.
And he refused to do that.
Why was he suddenly so afraid? You were only trying to scare him, just like everybody else...and he was fed up with that.
He came this far. He had to finish this.
"You...think your Pokémon can battle in that condition? Looks like they can barely stand." His eyebrows furrowed. "No matter. Once I beat you, I'll take them off your ha-"
"Struggle."
A hoarse whisper escaped your lips, stunning him as he realized you could actually speak. But then your Pokémon suddenly threw itself at Incineroar, attacking and taking a good deal of recoil damage as it fainted soon afterwards.
Or rather...
It simply dropped to the ground and ceased all motions, with you making no move to recall them. Instead you just sent out your next party member.
Kieran tried not to think about why they did that, and just scoffed at your strategy. "Really? This is what the "strongest" trainer is capable of? I expected better..I'll beat you in no time at all."
Yet you didn't seem fazed by anything he said, as you commanded your Pokémon to use Struggle, too.....and every other one after that did the same thing.
What frustrated him the most was how they all managed to outspeed Incineroar, forcing it to endure every hit without getting a chance to retaliate. It felt so unfair, and he couldn't do anything except sit and watch, feeling his blood boiling more with each passing second.
He didn't know why you exhausted all of your team's moves, why you wouldn't give him a chance to strike back....or why you're even up here at all and allowed them to get this bad.
But he knew one thing.
He wanted to get off this mountain soon.
The snowfall was growing heavier again, the howling wind picking up as the temperature kept dropping.
"Stop! Just stop for a second!!" He snapped as you readied your final pokeball. All you did was pause and stare at him. "You haven't given me a chance to attack yet! And I'm locked out my pokeballs...this isn't fair! You're cheating!!"
"..it's almost over."
He tensed, wondering why you spoke those words so ominously. But he took that as an insult and scowled. "For me? No...it's almost over for you. You're down to your last Pokémon..and I still have all of mine. I'm putting an end to this pathetic "struggle strategy" of yours right now."
".........."
"What a joke this was. Everyone says you were the strongest trainer..but you're just another obstacle in my way."
Hearing that saddened you a little, almost making you regret what you're about to subject this hapless champion to next...but you will end this one way or another.
You couldn't tolerate his arrogance any longer.
Your final Pokémon's appearance completely wiped the smug look on Kieran's face, as his eyes widened upon seeing a Pikachu in the most horrific condition--one that didn't look anything like the others on your team.
Its fur was totally white with a layer of frost coating it; and it was missing a leg, ear, and part of its tail...as though something had torn and chewed at various sections of its body. And its wounds exposed its muscle and bones, yet somehow it was still able to stand on its own.
But the most terrifying thing was its lack of a cutesy smile typical to its species. Instead there was this creepy grin stretching from ear-to-nonexistent-ear. And it just stared at him with those pitch black eyes, giggling.
His hands shook with genuine fear, before he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
Yet both of you were still there when he looked, ready for battle.
Suddenly he didn't feel so high and mighty right now. His heart pounded and his throat felt dry, eyes stinging from the cold.
He felt as though he wasn't supposed to be here.
He shouldn't be here.
He didn't want to do this anymore.
He wanted to go home.
It was so cold...
But he needed to finish this.
"I-Incineroar, use-"
"Pain Split."
'Wait...Pikachu can learn that?!' His eyes widened in shock, but at the same time he was relieved you finally did something new-
Only for your Pikachu to screech and attack his Pokémon with that move, biting into its arm and causing the latter to roar in agony. He could only watch, horrified as blood splattered all across the snow.
By the time he managed to recall Incineroar, it had already fainted from the attack.
However your Pikachu did, too, laying among the other bodies of your Pokémon...who he now realized were in fact deceased. He could barely see them since the snow covered most of them.
But the morbid images would never leave his head.
He still didn't understand.
What have you become?
What are you?
"It's over."
Looking up, Kieran screamed upon seeing your uniform now covered in blood, the frostbite having eaten away at most of your flesh. You looked like some zombie, with exposed bones and hollowed eyes much like your Pokémon--gazing at him with that same sadness they held.
Now it finally hit him.
All this time, he wasn't battling some BB League ex-champion. He was battling the victim of that weather malfunction the four were talking about.
The one who never made it down this mountain alive.
You were already dead...and wanted him to suffer the same fate as you.
He blinked, and you were suddenly in front of him, grabbing the front of his jacket with two hands and staring at him. And all he could do was stare back in terror, unable to look away.
"Destiny B-"
"NO!! NO!! STOP!!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!!" Screaming as loud as he could, he lost all composure as he tried pushing you off of him, hitting your jaw and dislocating the bone.
You dropped him to the ground, and he sobbed, wrapping his arms over his head as he begged you to leave him be.
"L-Let me go home, please pleasepleaseplease-"
"Kieran?!!!"
With a sharp gasp, he looked up to hear the voice of Lacey, before seeing her, Carmine, and the other Elite Four members rushing towards him. They were all bundled-up, with Crispin's Magmortar and Heat Rotom keeping them warm.
"It's [y/n]!!" He shouted, pointing to where you stood. "Th-They..they're right there!!"
The group stopped, appearing confused as they looked all around, seeing nothing but snow.
"Wh-Why are you all standing around?!"
"Kieran..there's no one here except us." Crispin muttered.
".....huh?" Blinking, he looked back and realized you have disappeared entirely, not leaving behind a single trace of your presence. There weren't any blood or footprints in the snow, nor any frozen bodies of Pokémon lying in it.
It's like he was battling a hallucination all along.
But it felt so real..
"But I....I-I..."
"Only you would be insane enough to risk your life coming up here," Carmine huffed, kneeling down. But as soon as she saw the true terror in her little brother's eyes, her heart sank..wondering what he witnessed. "Kiki..?"
"...i-it was them...[y/n]..." He mumbled shakily, his arm still stuck in a pointing position. Tears streaked down his face, the cold wind making his cheeks sting like hell. "Th-They were right here..and...and they...they tried to-"
"Listen, I get you really wanted to meet them and battle them...but they're not here. They're long gone. Now c'mon. We need to get you off this stupid mountain." Picking him up was no problem for Carmine, given how he was light as a feather. He just clung to her, allowing himself to be carried on her back.
The four were astonished that he actually made the journey up here, with Drayton wondering if he was really that desperate to battle you that he came up here, realized you weren't around, and just...made up a scenario in which he wins anyways.
Instead, the poor kid seemed traumatized by whatever he saw...or believed he saw.
After making it safely down the mountain and getting treated--alongside his Incineroar--Kieran's detailed account of what happened led to another rescue team heading up the summit, just in case they may have missed something.
They had fire types and ground type tirelessly shoveling through the snow, digging in the exact spot where he battled you, but there were no signs of you anywhere.
Even so..he refused to believe it, and still had reoccurring nightmares of that encounter and how it might've ended if the others didn't show up in time.
Soon enough he got back on-track to training his Pokémon and becoming stronger everyday, but other trainers noticed how carefully he treaded throughout the Polar Biome..
And how he avoided going anywhere near the tallest mountain in that zone.
For he believed you were still up there, waiting for him.
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brummiereader · 5 months
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No Son Of Mine (One Shot)
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Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?
Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff
Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!
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"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.
" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.
" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.
" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.
" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.
" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.
" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.
" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.
"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.
"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.
"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.
" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.
" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.
" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.
" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.
" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.
" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.
"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.
" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.
" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.
" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"
It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.
" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.
" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."
" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.
" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.
" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.
" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.
" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.
" He'll be no son of mine"
Six years later...
" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.
" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.
" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.
" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.
" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.
" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.
" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.
" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"
" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"
" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.
" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.
" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.
" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.
" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.
"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.
" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?
" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?
"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.
"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.
"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.
" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.
"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.
" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.
Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.
" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.
"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?
" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.
" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?
" You said boys..."
" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.
" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.
" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.
" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.
" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months
Text
If You Let Me, Part Three
Warnings: language, verbal arguments, references to cheating, angst, brief mention of parental death
A/N: The final part of this mini series. Thanks so much for the love on my work for Joe, makes me excited for future fics!
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To say that you and your mother never saw eye to eye would be an understatement. She was a bulldozer in a deceptively small and unassuming package, standing just over five feet tall, but make no mistake, she would blow right through anything to get what she wanted. Growing up, you hated her for it. She always thought she knew best, making you wear skirts because she thought it made you look more feminine, when you just wanted to wear jeans, signing you up for ballet classes when you wanted to play soccer.
It was no secret that Chris was her favorite child, she coddled him, in her eyes he could do no wrong, and for the most part it didn't bother you because you were your father's twin. You were two peas in a pod, a mutual love for reading and old westerns, and after he passed, it was as if she resented you, a constant reminder of the person she'd lost. For the rest of your teen years, there wasn't a time where the two of you didn't butt heads about something. You went to college and it was much of the same, but the distance made it easier, an into adulthood, she would still try to give her two cents, but for the most part, you could ignore her.
Even through all of the fighting and disagreements, you never thought she would do something like this. Inviting Brandon to the wedding, three years after the two of you had broken up, was not only a violation of your privacy, but proof that she had never changed at all.
Everyone in the house could hear you and your mom arguing in the library behind closed doors.
"Why the hell did you invite Brandon, mom?" You weren't sure if you wanted to scream or cry, and honestly neither sounded like they would provide you with any relief.
"Watch your language, Y/N", she crossed her arms over her chest, "and I stay in touch with his mother. She told me how regretful Brandon was about how things ended between you and how his life had turned for the worst. I thought maybe you could rekindle your love for each other. There was a time you were crazy about him."
"What is it with you and keeping in touch with the mothers of guys I've been with?" You took in a sharp breath as she narrowed her eyes at you. Your mom was very quick witted, she never missed anything. Its where Chris got his nosiness from. "Were you and Joe together?"
You avoided eye contact, beginning to pace the room. "Please don't change the subject. You crossed a line. I don't want to get back with Brandon."
"Oh, you don't know what you want." She waived you off. "You bounce between careers, cities, men. At least Brandon has a career, he comes from a good family. You need stability." You had never told your mother why your relationship had ended. You were scared of admitting to her that you had failed at yet another thing in your life. You wanted to scream it at her, make her feel bad for barging into your life and leaving a mess, but at this point, you weren't sure if it would make a difference. "I want out of the wedding. I'm leaving." You left the room before she could even get a word out and headed upstairs to pack your stuff.
In the kitchen, Chris and Joe had Brandon cornered. Your brother was really resisting the urge to break your ex's face with his fist, and each second that passed he was losing the fight. "Look Chris, I get it, I'm not your favorite person, but I think if I could talk to your sister and explain-", Brandon tried pushing past them but it was like hitting a brick wall. Chris was about Brandon's height but well built, and Joe towered over both of them.
"You're lucky I'm getting married tomorrow." Chris flexed his hand open and close. "Can't have a busted fist in my wedding photos." Brandon swallowed, knowing that Chris wasn't bluffing. Joe was silent, closely examining Brandon. He had no idea what you saw in him, but he already hated the guy for breaking your heart.
"I really just need to talk to Y/N", the guys begin to scuffle in the kitchen until your mom entered, clapping your hands. "Brandon! Lets get you set up in one of the free bedrooms. Y/N just needs some time to get herself together." Chris backed off to let Brandon pass and Joe took the opportunity while everyone was moving to go find you.
****
“Can I come in?” You turned to see Joe standing in the doorway of your room, softly knocking on the door. You let out a shaky breath, resisting the urge to cry in front of him. “Sure.” He sat at the foot of your bed, and when he tried to look at you, you purposely kept your head down, throwing your things haphazardly into your suitcase. “Where are you going?”, he asked, grabbing one of your sweaters out of your bag and bundling it in his fists.
“Home. My mom crossed a line inviting Brandon here, and I cant stay.” You were choking back sobs at this point, your face heating up from embarrassment. “Are you really not gonna go to your brother’s wedding?”
“I’ll be there, just sitting in the back like I originally planned.” You tried to grab your sweater back from him, but he was quick with his hands, pulling you down into his lap. “And what about us? Are you really going to leave again?” You felt his large hands around your waist pulling you closer. He didn’t want you to leave, and he’d hold you tighter if he had to. “Joe…”.
You were hesitant, but not for the reasons Joe thought. Brandon showing up was just another reminder of how messed up your life was, and you didn’t want to bring Joe into the fray. He deserved better than someone who couldn’t get their shit together. You pushed yourself off of your lap and got back to packing. "I'm sorry, I can't don't this right now. Can we talk about this some other time?"
"Last time you said that, we didn't talk for three years." He let out a curt laugh, but you could tell he wasn't joking. Silence hung heavy in the air between you two. You might have made up, but that didn't make what you did, hurt Joe any less. "Why are you still here?", you blurted out. "What?" Joe's brows furrowed with confusion. You let out strained breath before continuing. "I mean, why haven't you left like everyone else?" You quickly wiped away a stray tear from your cheek.
Joe balled up his fist tightly. Up until this point, he'd tried to be as understanding as possible to everything you had going on, but every time he reached out, you increased the distance between the two of you. "Why do you keep pushing me away?" You felt a lump build in your throat. Your silence was all of the confirmation Joe needed to continue. "I have done nothing but show you how much you mean to me, and you keep pushing, and pushing." The frustration in his voice was evident.
You didn't know what to say. He was right, you kept pushing him away, and there was only so much one person could take. "I'm-I'm scared that you're gonna leave."
"I'm not Brandon. I'm not gonna hurt you like he did." Joe scratched at the back of his neck.
You wanted to believe him, you really did. It would have made everything a lot easier, but history had taught you otherwise. "You don't know that. I don't know that. We can make all the promises in the world, but at the end of the day, we don't know what's gonna happen." The words were spilling out, and finally Joe knew the truth. It was ugly, but it was finally the truth.
"That night we kissed, it was one of the best nights of my life." Joe let out a sigh as his gaze dropped to the floor. "You have a twisted idea of best", you countered, sitting down next to him. Joe nodded in agreement. "I know. I never stopped thinking about you though, and I kept thinking that one day you'd come around. I know you were hurting that night. Its why I let you go, even though I didn't want to." He grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers.
"But you can't keep blaming yourself for what other people have done. Carrying that weight is going to crush you." You let out a shaky breath as you listened to him speak. "I am not your father and I am not Brandon, and you can't punish me before I've even gotten the chance to love you." You could barely look at Joe as he rose his head. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before getting up and leaving the room.
Once you were alone, you allowed yourself to fall apart.
****
You woke up an hour later, laid atop your pile of clothes, makeup stains on your pillow case. You must have fallen asleep from the exhaustion of crying. The house was quiet; the bridesmaids were already at the venue getting ready. Now was your chance to sneak out of the house before anyone else could see you. You gathered your bags and quietly headed downstairs. You almost made it to your car, until you came into contact with Brandon, who was sitting outside on the front step.
You didn't stop, pushing right past him as he stood up. "Wait, Y/N, we need to talk." Just the sound of his voice made your blood boil. "We have nothing to talk about." You loaded your bags into your trunk, slamming the door shut harder than you intended. "Listen, if you just let me explain."
"No!" Every step you took toward Brandon forced him back, making him stumble over his own feet. "Do you know what you've done to me? I can't trust any man, even ones who have done nothing but show me how much they care about me. So the only explaining I want from you is how you plan to get as fucking far away from me as possible."
Brandon threw up his hands in surrender. "Its been three years. Can't you get over it?" You let out a humorless laugh. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but at this point, an apology would have been too little, too late anyway. "Get out of my way." He had conveniently blocked your way to the drivers side of your car. "No, just listen-", he grabbed at your arm, pulling you into his body.
"We got a problem out here?" Your head snapped to the front door. Chris stood in the threshold, still in his pajamas, a cup of coffee in his hand. "No." You answered your brother as you glared at Brandon.
"You're gonna regret this." Brandon's tone was threatening, but you weren't the least bit scared. He paced up the walkway and brushed past Chris as he went back into the house. You gave Chris a thankful head nod and climbed into your car.
"You okay? I know I'm supposed to be in the house of the lord today, but I'll lay him out if you ask. God forgives." Chris rested his coffee on the roof of the car before leaning into the window. He gave you a wink, making you smile. "No, I'm fine. I just need to get out of here." Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the steering wheel.
"Will I see you at the wedding? I need my only sister there." He was tugging at your heart strings, and in the moment, you hated him for it. "Yes, I wouldn't miss it for the world." You gave him pleading eyes to let you drive away. "Okay, love you." Chris grabbed his cup and watched you drive away.
****
Joe paced the halls of the church. The ceremony was set to start in a couple of minutes, and he was hoping he'd catch you before it began. He tried calling you, but your phone was off, every try going straight to voicemail. He pulled at his bow tie, trying to take in a deep breath. He just needed to talk to you, apologize for what he said this morning. The hurt he'd been harboring for the last couple of years crept up when you rejected him again, but he realized now it had nothing to do with him, and he'd keep loving you until you were ready, however long that took. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he pulled open the bathroom door.
"Hey, its Mr. Football." Joe groaned as he spotted Brandon posted up against the far wall, his wobble evidence that he'd been drinking. "You know, I didn't recognize you at first", even taking one step was too much, and he had to grab onto the sink to steady himself, "but you were always at all of the parties." At first, Joe ignored Brandon completely, keeping an eye on him through the mirror as he washed his hands, dabbing a wet paper towel across his face.
"I was unhappy, you know." Brandon hung his head, still clinging to the porcelain. "That's why I cheated. I always felt second to her, she made me feel small." Joe couldn't help but laugh. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, man." He rolled his shoulders back.
"Its true. You know her, nothing is ever good enough for, Y/N. No matter what I did, she always wanted more." Brandon spit the words out like venom. "That bitch." Before he could even slow blink, Joe had grabbed him by the collar, easily shoving him against the wall. He got close enough to Brandon's face that he could smell the cheap liquor on his breath. "You're a sad excuse for a human being. You're lucky she even gave you a chance."
"What, do you want her? Good luck, she's a piece of work." Brandon slurred his words as he laughed.
****
You rushed to get to the hall, your heels clicking on the tile as you ran so you wouldn't be late to the ceremony. You were stopped in your tracks by a crashing sound as Brandon stumbled backward out of the bathroom, landing on his back, Joe moving to stand over him. He didn't even notice you as he tried to grab at Brandon again. "Joe, what are you doing?" Even at a whisper your voice echoed off the stone walls. His head turned toward you, his face softening. Even a drunk could tell there was something between you. "Are you two together?" Brandon stumbled to his feet. "Oh, this is rich! You get on me for cheating, but you've been with this guy?" He had no control over his volume.
"Its none of your business who I've been with, Brandon." You bit back, holding Joe back, who was still fuming.
"This is who you want, instead of me?" Brandon pushed at Joe's chest, barely moving him. Joe had height and size on him, but he was too inebriated to realize it. Joe's next shove sent Brandon into the wall, glass votives shattering on the ground.
"What the hell is going on?" Chris' voice echoed down the hall as he stopped just behind you. The sound had gotten everyone's attention, your brother and his other groomsmen running towards the commotion. "Did he touch you again?" Chris looked you over quickly. "He put his hands on you?" Joe gritted out, closing the distance between him and Brandon, who cowered away. "Joe don't!", you warned, and Joe listened, even though his instincts were telling him not too.
"What is everyone doing? We need to be in the hall for the ceremony. Chris, your bride is waiting." You held your breath at your mother's voice. "Brandon why are you on the ground?" Your mom asked as she took in the scene.
"What the fuck is wrong with this family? Everyone is crazy." Brandon lazily brushed off his suit jacket. "No wonder you are the way you are, Y/N." Chris had had enough. You flinched as you heard the sound of your brother's fist colliding with Brandon's face, and one punch was enough to knock him out. "Ow, fuck! I forgot how much that hurts." Chris shook out his hand, which was already starting to bruise at the knuckles.
"Chris!" You mother's shrill voice sent a shiver down your spine. Things were quickly getting out of hand. "I'm sorry mom, but I'd been waiting to do that all day." Chris sucked in his teeth as you took a look at his hand. "You think you can cheat on my sister and then insult my family and I won't deck you? You got another thing coming."
You didn't look at your mother, even though you could feel her gaze burning into the side of your face. "Y/N, is that true?"
"C'mon, lets get some ice on your hand." Joe guided Chris, his hand touching your lower back as he walked past you.
"What? Since when?" You were hit with questions as soon as you and your mom were left alone. You groaned, sitting down on a nearby bench. "I found out the week before Christmas break." You could tell she wasn't satisfied by your answer. "Three years ago. Listen mom, I'm not really in the mood to hear a lecture right now." You stood up, adjusting your dress, one from the back of your closet.
"Sit." Your back tensed, but you did as she said.
"I-I'm so sorry. I had no idea." She pulled you into a hug, which startled you. You allowed yourself to relax for the first time around her in a long time, tightening your hold around her shoulders. "I was so hard on you about the breakup, and a lot of things, and I shouldn't have been." She collected the tears underneath your eyes as she pulled back. "It's okay, mom."
"Its not. You were just doing your best, and I couldn't see that. Can you forgive me?" You grabbed her hand. "Of course mom, I love you."
"Are you and Joe okay?" Your averted eye contact made her laugh. "I know about you two. Chris told me." You had to remember to kill your brother later on after he was married. "I'm not sure", you finally admitted. "Well then, go find him and talk until you are sure. He's one of the good ones. Don't let him get away." You gave your mom another hug before you left to find Joe.
****
"Is Chris gonna be okay?" You approached Joe, who had found an isolated spot just outside of the hall. He smiled when he spotted you, the corners of his eyes creasing. "He'll live. Tiffany is pissed, but he's high on some pain meds right now. Should make for a helluva wedding."
"Listen-", the two of you chuckled as you spoke at the same time. "Can I go first?" Joe asked, bending his head down to look you in the eyes. You nodded, allowing him to continue. "I'm sorry, I never should have pushed you. You've been through a lot, and I was only thinking about how hurt I was, and that's not fair to you. I just want you to know, that I'm willing to wait until you're ready. No matter how long it takes. You're worth waiting for."
You felt butterflies in your stomach as Joe pulled you into his chest, his hands falling to your lower back. You rested your palms on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. "I'm sorry too. You were right; I was pushing you away. I didn't think I deserved someone like you. You're perfect. You're kind, you're way more understanding than I've ever deserved, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that." You took a deep breath as you looked at Joe, taking in his face. His hands snaked around to the back of the head, pulling you into a gentle kiss.
You chased his mouth as he pulled back slightly. "You're perfect, baby", he whispered, "and fuck anyone who made you forget that." You closed the gap, crashing lips again into a much more passionate, deep kiss. Joe chuckled against your mouth. "Can you let me get the words out please? I've been practicing." You smiled, grabbing at his hand. "Yes, sorry."
"You were wrong this morning. You said that we couldn't make promises to each other, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. I can promise, that I'll never hurt you as long as I live, if you let me." He stroked your cheek with his thumb as you leaned into his touch.
"I promise to let you." It felt like the easiest promise you'd made in your entire life. It just felt right, being there with Joe, and all you had to do was just let him love you. You felt every inch of your body tingle, desperate to feel his lips on yours again. "Are you done?", you asked in jest. "Yeah, yeah, I'm done." Joe smiled into the kiss, pulling you impossibly close.
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storiesforallfandoms · 6 months
Text
captive ~ blackbeard/edward teach; our flag means death
word count: 3808
request?: no
description: in which his crew takes a hostage without his permission, so he decides to make her a reluctant part of the crew
pairing: blackbeard (edward teach) x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of raids, raid typical violence, can say this is pre-canon or non-canon because stede isn't mentioned, bi!blackbeard (we are not erasing mlms in this household)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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The heavy pound of boots moved across the deck. The leather clad captain looked over his crew; some wounded from the raid but most were fine. His dark clothes hid the blood that was covering him - none of it his own. He grinned in pride to himself, proud of himself and his crew for another successful raid.
He stopped suddenly, noticing a new face tied up to their mast. The unknown woman glared up at him through the hair that had fallen into her face.
"Izzy," Blackbeard beaconed. "Who is this?"
"Captive, sir," Izzy responded. "We found her hiding below deck before abandoning the ship."
"I told you no captives," Blackbeard sneered. "Captives are just extra weight. We kill anyone on the ships we raid."
Their captive winced at his words. The fear didn't go unnoticed by the ruthless pirate captain.
"Bring her to me."
She tried to fight against the two crew members who grabbed hold of her, but there was no use. They untied her from the mast but kept her hands restrained in front of her. She stood before Blackbeard, trying to keep eye contact with him as to not seem afraid, but her trembling body gave her away. She flinched as he grabbed her bound hands. When he unsheathed his knife, nearby crewmates gasped and watched intently, both nervous and intrigued by the thought of seeing their captain slaughter someone on the deck.
When he cut the restraints, everyone let out a breath. The captive nearly collapsed and sobbed with relief.
"Come with me," he said. He started to walk towards his office, but the captive didn't follow. He glanced back at her. "That wasn't a question."
She reluctantly followed the pirate captain. All eyes followed her until she passed through the doorway and Blackbeard shut it behind her. She was so tense her body almost hurt. She didn't realize her hands were balled into fists until she felt her nails biting into her palms.
Blackbeard approached a table with an assortment of alcohol bottles on it. He took two glasses and filled them both. He gestured to a desk with chairs on either said - his desk. "Sit."
She did as he said. It was another "not question", and she figured it was best to follow those instructions at that point. She sat and Blackbeard placed the glass of alcohol in front of her. She glanced at it for a moment before looking back up at him. He rolled his eyes and took a mouthful of his own drink.
"Poured it from the same bottle, so there's nothing in it," he said.
"I don't drink," she said. It was the first time she had spoken since the raid. Her voice was scratchy and her throat felt raw. "Can I have water instead?"
She was shocked when Blackbeard stood and actually fulfilled her request. When he placed the glass in front of her, she immediately chugged down the contents of it. Blackbeard sat across from her again, studying her as he nursed his drink.
She didn't meet his eye as she placed the glass on the desk and said, "Thank you."
"What's your name?"
She hesitated, but eventually she responded, "(Y/N)."
"As a pirate rule of thumb, (Y/N), you show your captain respect. That means you answer the questions I ask, and you look at me when we're speaking."
Her head snapped up quickly. "Captain? You're not - "
"I didn't kill you, but I can't let you go, either. It risks you running off and turning our last known location in to the authorities."
"Then keep me captive."
"We don't hold captives here. Either you die or you join us. But I'm making the choice for you this time; you're joining us."
(Y/N) felt like she was going to cry. It felt like a lose-lose situation for her. She didn't want to die or be held captive by the most notorious pirate captain, but she also didn't want to become a pirate. She wanted to go home to her parents, who she was sure were going to be worried sick once they heard the news of the raid, and mourn the loss of her friends who were on the ship that was invaded. She certainly did not want to live alongside the savages who killed her friends.
But it seemed there was no choice. She wasn't about to fight Blackbeard on this when he was allowing her to live. But it truly felt like a fate worse than imprisionment.
"I'll have my first mate prepare a cabin for you," he said. "And I promise you, (Y/N), my crew will leave you alone. No one will harm you."
(Y/N) nodded, too upset to speak.
~~~~~~
The weeks went by and (Y/N) fell into a routine with her new shipmates. She was still keeping to herself, not wanting to see any of the crew unless necessary. She was still trying to pretend like this whole thing wasn't happening.
Blackbeard kept his promise, too. The day after her unwilling induction into the crew, Blackbeard had warned his crew that if he heard of anyone intentionally harming (Y/N), that he would deal with them in the most painful manner, and his warning definitely seemed to stick. No one even dared to look (Y/N)'s way most days, and after so long they started treating her like one of them.
(Y/N) wished that made her feel better, but she was miserable.
She was stood at the bow one night after everyone else had turned in. She had been doing that a lot lately: watching the calm, night water on her own, most times crying as she mourned the life she had lost. Tonight, though, there had been no tears. Just memories of her family and the friends she lost in the raid.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't hear anyone approach until a voice suddenly said, "You're up awful late."
She jumped and turned to see Blackbeard stood next to her. She looked away from him, still unable to maintain eye contact with the man who was supposed to be her "captain".
"I could say the same to you," she muttered.
"I don't tend to sleep very well."
(Y/N) dared a quick glance at Blackbeard. His face didn't give anything away, but she wondered the context behind his words. He was the most feared pirate captain in the world, what caused him to be sleepless? Was he haunted by the images of the people he had killed? Or was it something that went back even further than his pirate days?
"I'd ask if it's the snoring, but you have your own quarters so you should be safe from that," he said.
(Y/N) was shocked to feel a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Actually, Fang snores so loudly that I can hear it in my quarters."
She was more shocked to hear Blackbeard genuinely laugh at her comment. "Yeah, I feel like I can sometimes, too."
He was hesitant for a moment, but he decided to settle next to her, leaning against the small space of wall left next to her. His shoulder brushed against hers, but for once, she didn't feel the urge to cringe away from a touch.
"I like to watch the water when I can't sleep, too," he said. "It's very peaceful and calming."
"I think about jumping in and swimming away sometimes," (Y/N) blurted before she could stop herself.
Blackbeard looked over at her, but she refused to look back at him. "Where would you go?"
She shrugged. "To the nearest land, and then try and find a way back to my parents."
"I hope you're a strong swimmer, then, because there isn't any land for miles."
(Y/N) laughed, humorlessly. "Actually, I'm quite shit at swimming. I'd probably drown. But it's a fantasy I often have when I'm here at night."
A silence fell over them. Blackbeard was still looking at her. If she had dared to meet his gaze, she would've seen a look of pity on his face. Blackbeard was more than aware of what (Y/N) had lost when they raided her ship and his crew stupidly took her as a captive instead of killing her or leaving her on the ship they had invaded. Despite what most people thought, he wasn't heartless. Not completely, anyways. He had a soft spot that very few people were able to get to, and (Y/N) had somehow managed to get to do it with just one terrified look.
"Tell me about your parents," he said.
She finally looked at him, curious. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything."
She thought for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of test or something. But the look on his face was sincere, a look that she hadn't seen from him since being taken aboard the ship.
"My father is a painter," she started. "He met my mother at a gallery where his art was hung. She was betrothed to someone else at the time, but she always said she saw my father for the first time and immediately fell in love with him. She said she begged her father - my grandfather - for days and days to break off the engagement to the other man so she could marry my father instead."
"And did he?"
(Y/N) smiled as she nodded. "Eventually, yeah. It took a lot of convincing. The man my mother was supposed to marry was from a wealthy family, so my grandfather wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of her wanting to marry a painter instead. Apparently, my father ended up making some sort of beautiful painting that persuaded both of my grandparents."
Blackbeard raised an eyebrow at her. "Apparently?"
"Well, I've never seen it. Mum claims that my grandparents had it, but they passed before I was born and most of their possessions were sold."
"So you don't believe the painting exists?"
"I believe my father painted something beautiful, but he probably sold it for a lot of money to bribe my grandfather into letting him marry mum instead."
"Smart man, then."
The two of them laughed. The atmosphere around them began to feel less tense, which was probably the biggest shock to (Y/N). She didn't expect to see a softer side to the man who was known for breaking just about every law in existence, and maybe even some that hadn't even been invented yet. Although, she hadn't expected him to take mercy on her when his crew kidnapped her either.
"Are you their only child?" Blackbeard asked.
"No, I have five siblings actually. Two sisters, three brothers. Six of us in total."
He winced. "God, your poor mum."
(Y/N) laughed again. "Yeah, it's definitely not something I strive for in life. By my age she already had two kids, but I can't imagine even having one."
There was a pause, like Blackbeard was thinking, before he asked, "Did you have a husband? Or a betrothed?"
(Y/N) also paused, considering the question for a moment. "No. My parents didn't believe in the arranged marriages. They wanted us to marry for love, and I haven't quite found that love yet."
Blackbeard nodded and they fell back into a silence again. (Y/N) found herself leaning closer against him, the light brush of their shoulders becoming more than that. He leaned into her as well until she was all but pressed against his side.
"Thank you for sparing me," (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. "This may not have been my ideal outcome from being captured, but it certainly beats the alternative."
Blackbeard smiled. "You're welcome. I'm glad I spared you."
She wasn't sure how long they ended up standing there, leaning against one another and watching the water, but eventually (Y/N) felt her eyes growing heavy. Her head lulled to the side, resting against Blackbeard's shoulder. She felt him tense beside her for a moment, which was enough to jolt her back to reality.
"I guess I should get to bed," she said. She started to walk towards the cabins, but stopped to turn back to Blackbeard. "Goodnight, captain."
"Ed."
Her brows furrowed. "What?"
"My name, it's actually Ed. If you want to call me that, I mean. I wouldn't mind."
She smiled. "Ed. Goodnight, Ed."
"Goodnight (Y/N)."
~~~~~~
In the days that followed, (Y/N) found herself more drawn to Ed, and it seemed he felt the same way. He would often call on her to spend time together, leave her notes in her quarters to meet him once everyone else had gone to bed so they could spend some time alone, he even once allowed her to be present during a meeting with Izzy where they were trying to figure out the next destination of the ship. Izzy was very clearly not happy with the new addition, and that quickly became the last time (Y/N) was ever involved with those types of meetings.
She started to open up more to her other crewmates, but not as much as she did with Ed. It was a great shock to her, but she found herself developing a kinship with him.
Maybe even more than that. Maybe she was developing feelings for him that she was too scared to admit to.
But all those feelings came out one day when an otherwise beautiful, calm day at sea was interrupted by the harsh jolt of something hitting the water beside them, causing the waves to nearly capsize the ship.
"What the fuck was that?" Fang said, rushing to the side to look over. The other crewmates followed just in time to see a large black object fall into the water mere inches away from the ship, causing another wave to throw all of them to the floor.
"We're being attacked!" Izzy called from the crow's nest. "Everyone, get in position!"
(Y/N) was left confused and scared as she watched the other crewmates scramble around the ship. She had never been told what to do in the event of an attack. Surprisingly, they hadn't been the ones to be attacked since she joined the crew. They had done plenty of attacking, but Ed was insistent upon her not being involved in any of that. Not that she minded, the last thing she wanted to do was to fight other blood thirsty pirates.
But it seemed now she had no choice. She couldn't run to her quarters and hideaway from the attack. That's how she was captured but Ed's men in the first place, and she wasn't about to become a captive on another ship. Her only defense was to try and figure out how to fight.
Another cannonball hurtled through the sky, this time flying over the ship and landing in the water on the other side, throwing the shipmates off their balance yet again. (Y/N) fell onto the deck, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Her head was spinning as she looked up to see someone climbing over the side of the boat and onto the deck. She let out a shriek as she realized it was not a member of their crew, but rather their attackers were coming on board.
Before the attacker could get far, Izzy appeared almost out of nowhere and dug his sword into the attacker's chest. His eyes glazed over and his body went limp within seconds. Izzy shoved the lifeless body back over the side of the ship before turning to (Y/N). She couldn't tell if he was annoyed by her lack of fighting skills, or with the fact that the ship was being attacked in general.
"Get out of here," he said. "Hide below deck where the gunpowder and weapons are. They'll want Ed, so they won't go anywhere near there."
She nodded, still a bit shocked by everything going on and by Izzy's brief moment of kindness. He turned his back on her to keep fighting the other attackers that were starting to board the ship. While he and the other crewmates kept them busy, (Y/N) quickly slipped below deck and went exactly where Izzy told her to go. Their weapons hold was full of barrels and other large boxes holding the weapons they had taken from previous raids. (Y/N) wedged herself between a few barrels, hoping she was out of sight enough if anyone did happen to come down.
All she could hear above was the sounds of feet pounding against the desk, and louder sounds of bodies hitting the floor. She flinched with every loud thud over her head, wondering if it was an attacker or one of her crewmates that had gone down. She wondered where Ed was, if he had gotten wind of the attack before any of the attackers found him. She knew anyone who dared to go after the feared pirate captain Blackbeard would be no match for him, but there was still this fear in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about the possibility of Ed being ambushed and harmed.
She froze as she heard footsteps descending the stairs leading into the weapons area. She waited, hoping that whoever it was would just move along, but she didn't hear any movement that would tell her what they were doing. She held her breath, but her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure that whoever it was could hear her.
Footsteps began to move through the room. She shrank further behind the barrels she was using as a hiding spot. She was shaking so violently that her vision was starting to blur. What was she going to do if the person who came down found her? She hadn't brought a weapon, she had no idea how to fight, and there was no way she was getting past the person and back up onto the deck before they could grab her. She was truly and royally fucked.
She couldn't contain a gasp as one of the barrels moved and an unfamiliar man sneered down at her.
"I thought I saw someone run down here," he said. "What's wrong, pretty girl? You don't know how to fight the big bad pirates?"
Suddenly, she had flashbacks of when Izzy had found her first and taken her captive. She thought he was scary at the time, but Izzy was nothing compared to this pirate. She was sure that if he took her, that would be the end of her. She would never see Ed again, and he would never know which of the attackers had taken her last breath.
Fear was starting to overflow within her, so much so that tears were starting to form in her eyes. This just made the man laugh.
"Ain't that cute? Tears aren't going to save you, pretty girl."
(Y/N) shut her eyes tightly as the man began to reach for his weapon. She didn't hear another set of footsteps coming down the stairs, nor did she see someone coming up behind the new attacker. But she heard the sound of a blade piercing flesh, followed by the sound of the man making noises she wished she didn't know existed. She opened one eye in time to watch the man topple over, lifeless, and to see Ed stood behind him.
"Ed," she breathed, a sob escaping her lips as she did.
He sheathed his blade and quickly took (Y/N) into his arms. He held her tightly as she began to sob.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her hair. "I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't know you were down here until I finally managed to find Izzy. I would've had you hidden in a safe place if I knew you were here."
"Izzy told me it was safe down here," (Y/N) said, her words muffled in Ed's leather. "He said they would be after you and no one would come down here."
"They normally don't, but this fucker saw you come down here and decided to come after you. Fuck, I should've come looking for you the minute they started attacking us."
"You had a ship to protect."
"I don't give a fuck about the ship. I only give a fuck about you."
She pulled away from his embrace to look up at him. For the first time, (Y/N) saw fear in Ed's eyes. He knew she was safe, he was holding her, seeing her, after saving her from being killed herself, but still she could see how scared he had been that he might've lost her. That if he had been just a few seconds later, he would've come down to find her dead body instead.
Ed wasn't afraid of an attack or of losing his ship. He was afraid of losing her.
Before she could stop herself, she took hold of his face and pulled him in for a kiss. He didn't stop her. In fact, he reached one hand up to gently cup her face. She held on to his leather like it was her lifeline, and he held on to her like she was his.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he said once they pulled apart from each other.
"You didn't do it, though. I did," she teased.
"Yeah, but I still kissed you back, so it counts."
"But you didn't initiate the kiss."
"I still kissed you, so it counts."
(Y/N) giggled and leaned forward to kiss him again. Ed wrapped one arm around her lower back and pulled her closer to him. The kiss became passionate quickly, with Ed's hand starting to move lower on (Y/N)'s body.
If it weren't for the sound of someone clearing their throat, it probably would've gone further than that too.
Ed and (Y/N) broke apart and turned to see Izzy stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was looking between the two of them, an amused look on his face.
"Your wounded need you captain," he said.
"Oh, yes, right," Ed said. "I'll be right up. Can you, uh, can you send someone down to deal with this man? He's already dead, but I want to make sure his body burns the same way he will be in Hell."
"Right away, sir."
(Y/N) was sure she saw a smirk on Izzy's face as he climbed up the stairs again.
"Come, someone needs to have a look at you," Ed told her.
She shook her head. "I'm fine. No one hurt me."
"I just want to be sure. Then, you're staying in my quarters tonight. I can't have you out of my sights after this."
She smiled and nodded. "Yes, captain."
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