#speed run wild au
Text
Chapter four of the speed run Wild au is up! As usual a short excerpt can be found below the cut.
When Twilight reached Wild the younger was already happily patting the nose of a gentle looking pinto. To his left were two identically disgruntled looking children dressed in red vests, strange squashed hats. To his right was Sky, ineffectively trying to get Wild to let go of the horse.
“Hey! You can’t just walk over here and touch any horse you want!” This kid was loud.
“Yeah, that one bites!” Twilight winced at the screeching pitch, that one was definitely louder.
Wild looked down at them as he scrubbed the cheeks of his new friend. “Does she?”
The child he’d addressed scuffed a shoe in the dirt, “Well… not really, but still!”
Twilight laughed and tugged Wild away from the horse a smidge. No reason to jeopardize their chances to pet the horses any further. “Hello, sorry about my friend here, we all just really like horses and he hasn’t been around that many.”
Not a lie, Wild had met Epona briefly and commented on how she looked similar to another horse he’d ridden but did not speak on other horses after that. Add on that he thought Wolfie was some weird hybrid shaggy horse for about a week and it was clear to Twilight just how much experience Wild had with horses.
The twins(?) nodded understandingly and proceeded to give their small group a very obvious once over. Twilight had forgotten how adorable kids were, they hadn’t seen very many during their quest as a group.
“Are you guys twins too?”
“Or a set of quadruplets and a set of twins?”
“Or two sets of triplets?”
“Or-”
Legend interrupted the steady stream of questions, “No, we are not twins.”
“You’ve gotta be!”
“Why do you all look the same then?”
“We don’t all look the same!” Wind sounded horrified “I’m way cooler than these guys! And younger too.”
Twilight thought he might be mildly offended by that.
Legend was a little more than mildly offended by that, “Are you calling us old pipsqueak?” His sharp smile did not read friendly.
Wind puffed out his chest, “I call it like I see it.”
Twilight held Sky back from disrupting the ensuing wrestling match. Wind was only getting what he deserved.
When Legend managed to get a knee in the small of Wind’s back, pinning him to the ground with a shout of triumph, the twins piped up again, “You fight like brothers though.”
Twilight considered that. At the start of this time warp quest he’d seen them solely as fellow adventurers. Just people who’d gone through similar stuff and were there to deal with the next threat. But, as they’d gotten to know each other it had definitely begun to feel more like he’d found a family.
One that he could really call his.
Sure he missed Ordon and loved those who had taken him in but he was still the hylian in the midst of humans. A wolf in the goat pasture.
The others were just as dangerous as he was. He knew that many of them felt just as out of place as he did in their own Hyrules. They were at the very least brothers in arms. At the most…
“You could call us that.”
Sky nudged Twilight in the ribs for his lackluster response, sue him he hadn’t processed this revelation yet, but added, “We’re all some form of related but definitely not twins.”
Time to change the subject. “Could we pet your horses?”
The fight on the ground paused as expectant eyes latched onto the kids.
“Well since you asked so nicely,”
“I guess we could oblige you.”
They spent an excellent while petting the horses, Wild dodging sneaky pinches from the kids in retaliation for not asking the first time, until Time, Warriors, and Hyrule joined them.
Time gestured for the heroes to gather around, “I talked to the stable master. We have beds for the night but it’s going to be a tight fit. You boys will have to share.”
Wind flopped backwards from his perch on the fence where he’d been petting the horses onto Twilight who barely swayed under his additional weight, “Don’t worry old man, it’s not like we haven't huddled for warmth before!”
Time smiled at the pirate laying across Twilight’s shoulders, “I’m not concerned in the least,” He gave the twins, who were staring in awe at the well armored man that had just appeared in their midst, a gentle nod and reached over Legend to pet the forehead of the cream colored horse.
Legend shifted to the side to let Time have more room as well as give Twilight space to drop Wind and glanced around. No sign of Wild.
That wasn’t good.
#speedrun at your own risk#speed run wild au#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu wild#lu twilight#fanfiction#that on fanfiction i decided to write where wild speed runs his adventure before meeting the crew#Twi is a horse boy and it shows#despite his best efforts
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
always, evermore, even after and still !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they get married and it's the happiest day for everyone.
or
for when you finally find your happily ever after. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hope u like this!!! i love you so much, thank you for reading <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 2,826,998 others
vogue charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n tie the knot in a grand yet intimate ceremony held at their villa in monte carlo.
the bride wore a valentino couture gown complete with a sprawling train and platform heels while the groom sported a classic black tuxedo. y/n’s childhood best friend, lily muni he, served as the maid of honour, whereas her close friends, carmen mundt, kika gomes and heidi berger were bridesmaids. on the groom's side, lorenzo leclerc, his brother was the best man along while his younger brother, arthur and his friend circle, which included lando norris, pierre gasly, carlos sainz and alex albon were the groomsmen. the guest list included many notable presences such as sebastian vettel, toto wolff, taylor swift, zendaya, timothée chalamet, harry styles and many more.
the couple’s first dance was to the song "love letter from the sea to the shore" performed by delaney bailey followed by "it's nice to have a friend" by taylor swift and "sweet creature" by harry styles.
tap the link in our bio to get a look inside their wedding held at their stunning villa in monaco.
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
yourusername added to their instagram stories
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 796,528 others
landonorris my two best friends got married and i'm about to make it everybody's problem. congratulations, you horny motherfuckers. don't remember much of last night but as i'm sitting in a cafe in berlin, i know it ruled. here's to a lifetime of happiness, love and blessings and may this marriage not end in a divorce (y/n, lily still has that taxi driver on speed dial, say the word and we'll help you run away)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
8,638 comments
username stfu im gonna cry
username i feel like a proud parent omg
username we've come so far 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username not lando violating charles on his own wedding post 💀💀💀
username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them so much my lord
lilymhe you can still escape just sayin yourusername
-> yourusername i'll keep that in mind, thank you 💋
-> charles_leclerc is it too late to get a divorce
-> yourusername shut up you literally (and legally) signed up for this
username are we gonna ignore that fact that the wedding was in monte carlo and lando's in berlin
-> username how the FUCK did that happen
-> username i just know that the party was WILD
username "may this marriage not end in a divorce" PLS 💀💀💀
username the photos ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username im living for the wedding content we're getting from like half the grid
maxverstappen1 berlin is nice
-> landonorris i know right?
-> username NOT MAX BEING IN BERLIN TOO WTF HAPPENED LAST NIGHT
username the event of the century 🔥🔥🔥
username THEY LOOK SO AMAZING WHATCTHRBUCJ
username in love with these
username god i need a life like this ://
charles_leclerc at least i had a gf and now i have a wife (thanks for the photos but i'm not paying you)
-> landonorris that's a fucked up thing to say to me (i literally hate you so much)
username fuck all the love stories except theirs
username my heart ://
username they SCREAM old money
-> username OMG THAT'S SO REAL
yourusername thank you for these pictures. we love you. take the train back to monte carlo rn or i am giving your gift to george. and thanks for the driver information, will keep that in mind definitely.
-> landonorris anytime. i love you both i guess. DON'T YOU DARE and of course, happy to help.
-> charles_leclerc DELETE THAT NUMBER RIGHT NOW
username charles has been married for one (singular) day and he's already fighting for his life 💀💀💀💀💀
username i love this friend group so much ❤️
username THEY BOTH ATE OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 892,728 others
lilymhe in my head, we're still those teen girls who planned out their wedding days with so much enthusiasm and with so much detail that it would've put these planners and binders to shame. it's kinda hard to believe that my best friend is now married but honestly, y/n/n, i couldn't be more happy for you. you're my best friend and i love you so much. thank you for being just a call away, always. here's to charles (barf) and y/n (❤️)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,926 comments
username SHUT UP IM CRYING
username platonic soulmates ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
username she's so pretty what the fuck
username Y/N ATE
carmenmmundt the prettiest bride 💕
*liked by lilymhe*
username two pretty best friends 🔥🔥🔥
username y/n looks so pretty what thebfuck omg im gonna scream
username my favs ://
username nah cus lily and y/n literally have my heart like they're my fav pair of best friends
charles_leclerc i remember when you threatened me
-> lilymhe good. remember it for the rest of your life.
-> charles_leclerc y/n she's doing that thing again yourusername
-> yourusername lily
-> lilymhe sorry
-> username NAH NOT CHARLES SNITCHING ON LILY
username she slayed so hard
username the barf and the ❤️ spoke VOLUMES
username im gonna cry they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i wish i had a best friend like lily ://
alex_albon i never get captions like this
-> lilymhe this isn't about you
-> yourusername yeah alex this isn't about you
username y/n's childhood best friend being her maid of honour 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username in love with these two
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
yourusername i love you SO fucking much
-> lilymhe i love you so much more
yourusername i'll love you always thank you for everything ❤️🩹
-> lilymhe you're my best friend, always here for you and your loser ass boyfriend
-> charles_leclerc I'M HER HUSBAND
-> lilymhe okay and??? she can get another one
-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD
username i adore their friendship tf
username don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc
danielricciardo i had one (1) job and as you can see, i took it very seriously. mr and mrs. leclerc-y/l/n, everybody 💒🍧💐
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,682 comments
username LECLERC-Y/L/NS
username THEY'RE SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them sm what the fuck
username my parents ❤️🫶🏼
username LOVING THE WEDDING CONTENT WE'RE BRING FED RN
username she looks so pretty omg ☹️☹️☹️
maxverstappen1 why are you acting like your ass isn't in berlin with us?
-> danielricciardo THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET YOU SNITCH
username WHAT THEBFUCJ HAPPENED LAST NIGJT 💀💀💀💀💀 why are they in berlin
-> username oh the night was wildin 🔥🔥🔥
username daniel.jpg but on main
username love them sm
username SO HAPPY FOR THEM AHSHDHSJDJBS
username living for this content
landonorris berlin kinda cool
*liked by danielricciardo*
username WHY are they in berlin
-> username no it's HOW are they in berlin
username no bc i feel like such a proud mom like i watched go from "hiii/hiiiiiii" to "hehehehe i do/shut up charles, i do"
-> username that's what i call GROWTH
username her dresses ate omg
username i know daniel's not getting paid for shit
username im so ://
charles_leclerc lovely photos mate
-> danielricciardo so will you pay me?
-> charles_leclerc no
username AHHHSHDHDHDHXHXJDJDF
username gonna sob some more
username honestly crying tears rn
yourusername we love you daniel 🫶🏼 (get your ass back to monaco i am NOT kidding)
-> danielricciardo love you guys (omg we're on our way stop you scare me sometimes)
username IM NOT NORMAL ABT THIS
username fav couple
username thank u to daniel for these
-> username doing god's word fr
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 2,826,418 others
yourusername words cannot express how much i love you. every single time i think that this is it, i cannot possibly love you more than i do, i'm surprised by myself because i do. i really do. i fall in love with you more and more every single day and i'm gonna spend the rest of my life showing you that. i loved you when you first told me that you really liked my smile and i loved you when you told me you hoped i lived nearer to you and then asked me to move in. i loved you when you took the time to get to know me and i loved you when you said that i was it for you and i will love you when our hair is turning gray and we're gonna look back and smile and fall in love even more. they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes i swear. i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it. here's to my forever love, my everything, my world. i love you ❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
17,527 comments
username GOODNIGHT
username WHAT THR FUCK
username im gonna sob this is so
username they're married 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username people say soulmates we say y/n and charles
username sliding down the door fr this is INSANE
charlotte2304 all my love to you both 💓
*liked by yourusername*
username HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL LIKE
username they're MY parents
username the caption took my heart out and squeezed it
username hahahahaha!!!!! i am NOT okay!!!!!!! what the fuck is up with that caption
sebastianvettel 💐💕
*liked by yourusername*
username he's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username "i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it" WHEN WILL IT BE ME
username "they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes" me and who lol (i am screaming crying shaking)
username no bc i too deserve someone like this ://
username it's giving timeless by taylor swift
*liked by yourusername*
username they're so taylor swift coded
username GOD ME WHEN
username gonna take a toaster bath brb 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
username don't test me istg
carla.brocker my heart 😭🩷
*liked by yourusername*
arthur_leclerc sister-in-law 💒🩷
*liked by yourusername*
username IM GONNA SCREAM WHAT THE FUXK
username MY parents 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username he's so husband coded ❤️🩹
username microwaving a spoon brb
charles_leclerc i love you so much it's unbelievable just how much
-> yourusername i adore you and every part of you
charles_leclerc my forever love ❤️ cannot wait to grow old with you
-> yourusername forever has never sounded so good ❤️
username gonna be thinking abt this for the rest of my life just so u know
username they're setting the standards so high i can't do it anymore what the fuck
username im so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,826,318 others
charles_leclerc i honestly don't know what to say. you're my biggest dream, my wife and now that i'm saying it, it sounds so surreal. i have waiting been an entire lifetime to say these words and the fact that it's you in this lifetime (and all the others), is just amazing. i wish i had known you sooner, so that i wouldn't have to spend all those years looking for love in places where it couldn't possibly be. my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad. i hope that one day, when we're old and aged and have seen a thousand sunsets, you ask me if i love you and my answer will forevermore will be always, evermore, even after and still.
tagged yourusername
16,628 comments
username I CANNOT DO THIS RN
username everyone stfu im gonna cry
username english lang is so weird bc u say true love and it translates to y/n and charles
username nah the bar is too high atp im giving up
username SHE'S SO PRETTY MA GAWD
username the fact that they're now the leclerc-y/l/ns 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
lewishamilton so happy for you both 💐💒
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username "my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad" why am i crying.
username they're the blueprint for all love stories from now on btw
username I LOBE THEM SO MUVH WHAT GHE FUCK THEY'RE MU PARENTS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭 😭 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
usernames no bc the way all the photos are of random moments and this leads me to believe that charles just whips out his camera whenever y/n is just There and now im crying again
-> username he's just like us fr
-> username i too would play paparazzi for y/n is given the chance he's not the only one ://
carla.brocker coolest sister in law (best friend) 🫶🏼
-> yourusername carla i love you 😭
username still in disbelief they r married tbh
username i feel like we watched them grow up im so emotional 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username she's so pretty i could sob
username why did u think that it was okay for u to post this.
username i am not okay
lorenzotl 🤍💐
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username SHE'S SO PRETTY
username charles won at life fr
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username caption called me single and lonely in 26836282727 languages 💔💔💔💔💔
username bro woke up and chose to destroy shakespeare with that caption 💀💀💀
landonorris loved the wedding 👍 i woke up in berlin
-> charles_leclerc the wedding was in monaco???
-> maxverstappen1 i know
-> danielricciardo we obviously had some ideas and now i have an ugly tattoo and there's a ring pop on my finger
-> landonorris max has one too
-> charles_leclerc YOU MARRIED MAX
-> danielricciardo NO
-> maxverstappen1 NO
-> yourusername this is hilarious
username i need to see more pictures from the wedding I NEED TO
username i love my wife (i am delusional)
yourusername i have already loved you for a thousand years ❤️
-> charles_leclerc here's to a thousand more ❤️
yourusername i love you so much like you're my person and i just love you so fucking much :/
-> charles_leclerc i love you so much more mon chéri
username they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username IM SO AHJHSJSHDHDJSKDJD
username im gonna cry brb
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc instagram au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc blurb
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
singlemom!reader au~
Pathetic!Simon purposefully gets sick. He's seen the way you coddle your baby, and he wants a sliver of that attention.
(i will not go into detail on what he does, but be aware that temperature doesn't make you sick, bacteria and viruses do. good luck.)
Once sick, he covers his face with a black surgical mask and waits around the time you come home to step out, hoping to catch you in the lift.
Bingo.
"Oh my god, forgive me for saying so, but you look like death." He'd huff out a chuckle if he didn't also feel like it.
He can feel his throat itch, a tight pressure in his chest, and a wet cough claws out of his throat. Simon tips his head and moves to go around you but you're swiftly grasping his hand, dragging him back down the hallway.
"Absolutely not, you are not walking around like a living dead while this ill."
He's dizzied off of your touch, the small hand in his larger one slamming his pathetic, little heart against his ribs.
"Even your hand is hot to the touch! You, sir," a jingle of house keys as they're inserted into the lock, "are getting some much-needed rest. The baby is with her grandmother today, so it'll be just us."
He can't be blamed for the way his cock stirs at the thought of being alone with you. This is better than what he'd expected, truthfully speaking. Simon had just wanted your sympathy, maybe even a cup of homemade soup but this?
"Come, shoes off." He toes off his new balances as he watches you take off your coat, hanging both on the rack.
You flick your eyes to him and that look you give him makes his cock twitch. Your brows are furrowed, a worried look reflected in your pretty eyes, the corners of your beautiful lips pulled down.
Pity. His loins are on fire. You pity him, and he loves it.
"Simon, I think we should lie you down." Your fingers grab his own, leading him toward your bedroom.
Everything happens in a blur, maybe he's gone and gotten a little too sick, but it's all worth it when you tuck. him. in.
Unfolding the covers that lay on the foot of the bed, you gently pull it until it sits just under his chin.
"Right, you get some sleep and I'll make you some chicken soup. I've luckily got all the ingredients in the fridge already."
Would it be too much to ask for a kiss on the forehead?
The door softly clicks shut and he unloops the masks from around his ears and breathes in.
Your blanket smells like you— a heady, musky vanilla with an underlying twang of lavender.
His head spins, it's so rich in your scent, his painfully hard cock straining against the zipper of his trousers. His imagination runs wild as he fists it and presses it right under his nose, inhaling noisily.
Do you sleep shirtless under this blanket? Does it have the privilege of feeling your bare, soft skin?
He's always known that he's a bit insane, especially with his borderline criminal behavior, but what he does next, he really hopes you don't blame him for.
Simon pulls down his trousers just a bit and fists his cock from over the blanket— the touch as close as he's ever going to get from you.
He's been aroused since you laid eyes on him on the lift, the almost disappointed face you gave him was almost too much. Simon loves it, any attention is worse than none, but his spine tingles when you, and only you, look at him like he's a pitiful cur.
A stray dog that limps around, scrounging for food around the streets, tugging at the heart strings of others.
Sublime.
He curls into himself as he nears his peak, the material of your blanket sodden with his pre-cum, a souvenir of his time here.
And then your footsteps are outside of your door, your knuckles rapping on it.
"You need anything from me, Simon?"
Oh, love. Give him everything.
He choked out his negative, which you luckily mistook as him having a small coughing fit but in reality, your dulcet voice sent him careening over the edge at neck-break speed— gooey, viscous cum spurting into your blanket.
Simon's teeth audibly grind, keeping back any noises that want to claw out of his sore throat.
Drawing in a big gulp of air, his body loosens, sinking into the mattress as his eyelids begin to feel heavy.
Now, he can sleep.
He sincerely hopes this blanket is your favorite.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#cod#pathetic!simon
658 notes
·
View notes
Note
I love rebel fox's ridiculously big sleeves
So glad you do — I dearly love them too. So many opportunities for flourishing and swishing from a man you would expect to do exactly neither and never
Also. You have given me the opportunity to EXPOUND and I’m taking it
The sleeve is not only aesthetic, but so EXTRA
CW mutilation: Fox’s right hand index-finger: “Ahsoka’s Gift” - In the arc where Fives (appears) to get shot by Fox, enraged by this and by her treatment by the Coruscant guard during her trial arc, Ahsoka takes revenge on the offending digit that shot the gun. With her teeth, btw — it gets a bit wild. Side-note: It factors in for the other clones that Fox is not right-handed, but that’s the hand he uses to shoot Fives. Then again, most clones are trained/raised/adjusted to be ambidextrous, so — it’s just odd all around, from the outside.
GAR armor: In keeping with the AU title and inspiration (Repurposing GAR armor towards the end of pulverizing wrinkly Sith — A guide by CC-1010, ecstatically-ex-marshal commander of Coruscant), Fox has kept his GAR shoulder-guards, a cutout of his chestplate, and knee-guards (plus one shin-guard), though the paint on them has been adjusted or worn.
Oversized sleeve: Beneath the batwing sleeve and dramatic flair, Fox is hiding whatever the rebellion uses instead of the Mandalorian Whistling Birds, in addition to an elbow-mini-blaster that fires a max of four shots, and extra ammo. (Also the sleeve is removable — think detachable bridal train)
CW self-destruction: On the reverse side of his chest-plate piece, Fox has an explosive device with multiple ways to rig it to explode. While it is detachable and likely could be used to explode OTHER things, the primary intent is a last resort gesture of defiance should he run out of other options.
Fox also has a replaced tooth (which he makes use of, but no spoilers here) and a metal plate protecting the surgery point for when his chip was removed. Since Fox is Fox, he prioritized speed over care at the time, so it is permanent vulnerability due to how his skull was treated and recovered afterward.
Do you see the knifes on his thigh they are small but they are important
#fan art#artists on tumblr#star wars fanart#star wars: the clone wars#fix it au#commander fox#rebel!fox#I have quite a few hcs for this design#but also it’ll be delicious when there’s negotiations between the rebels and the Republic and Cody (who is present as the ONLY Marsh. Comm)#Is the only one who knows what’s under that stupid cape-sleeve thing bc Cody would absolutely do the same thing#Cody: *slaps Fox’s shoulder giving Obi-Wan a look right in the middle of a negotiation meeting between the rebels/GAR/Republic*#Cody: This shabuir can hold so much karkin weaponry#Cw: mutilation (minor)#Cw: Self-destruction (hypothetical)#this is so indulgent but please indulge with me#the GAR symbol over his heart and that being the piece that has the self-destruct device is the only brand of symbolism Fox can do#Repurposing GAR Armor AU#OmPu Ask Hours
466 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part Pilot
Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hair on the back of my neck rose half a second before something hard hit my head. I couldn't see anything but I could still feel when I hit the pavement. I rolled onto my back and tried to kick up at whoever was there.
Multiple hands grabbed me and dragged my across the hard ground. I felt my strength slowly coming back with my sight. There wasn't much to see as three dark figures towered above me. My back cracked when they slammed me into the wall.
One of them grabbed my jaw and dug their fingers into my cheek. I tried clenching my teeth but they easily pried my mouth open. I tried flicking my wrist but the rocks under my feet barely moved. They had hit my head so I couldn't use my magic. Now they were trying to drug me. Keep a mage discombobulated or high and they can't use their magic.
One of them had their entire weight on my legs and the other had my arms pinned against my side. They slipped a powder past my lips and clamped my mouth shut. I took a deep breath before they pinched my nose. I had only seconds before I passed out and they could get the rest of the powder down my throat. It was already soaking into my tongue and cheeks. I tried scrapping it against my teeth.
The weight on my feet disappeared. I tried kicking them but there was nothing but air. I pulled my leg up and dug my heel in their groin. They fell back and slammed into the wall behind them at an inhuman speed. I reached for the last attacker's eyes and dig my nails in. He let go and jumped over me as if to run. I immediately spat on the ground and wiped my tongue with the back of my hand.
I looked around at the dark alley. Everything was starting to double, the colors a wild red and blue. Some of it had gotten into my system. I saw two men laying still on the ground, the other running for the bright road. Something flew past my face and strikes him dead center in the back of his head. His body fell limp.
"Are you alright, my lady?"
I turned over my shoulder to see Alastor, the Radio Demon, towering above me. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark alley and his coat was as red as blood. I knew he was tall but he looked even more terrifying in person. His long, red fingers were outstretched in a kind gesture.
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"Is that any way to treat your savior?" He moved his hand closer, edging me to accept his offer.
"Why would you help me?" I rubbed the back of my head and winced. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He stood a full head taller than me but he seemed oddly skinny. He didn't have the muscle I had.
"I know rumors deem me a dark light, but I can assure you I'm still a gentleman at heart. How could I let those fools continue their assault?" He wiped his hand on his coat as if I had some kind of germ or disease on me.
"I didn't ask for the help so I'm in no way obligated to do anything you ask," I said. I looked down to examine my hands because that was better than staring at his terrifying eyes. I lost my balance and fell backwards into the wall.
He grabbed my wrist and roughly pulled it up. I tried pulling it back but he held on painfully tight. I could picture him using his sharp teeth to slice it off in one bite. But he didn't. He dropped my hand and grabbed my chin next. He turned my head as if examining my neck. I tilted my head back and pulled away. I slammed into the wall again but tripped on my own feet, landing right on my tailbone.
He leaned down and grabbed my face again. I tried digging my nails into his wrist but my strength had disappeared. The drug was taking full effect now. "Let go of me, demon," I spat. He used his other hand and dragged a claw down my cheek. I cried and tried pushing him away with my feet. He stepped back, his smile never fading. I covered my bloody cheek and stared him down.
I had managed to stay free for five years. I wasn't about to fall into another mage's trap. I wasn't going to go back. I would rather die trying to escape the Radio Mage than go back. I knew his patience was thin and nothing immoral was off the table for him.
He reached up and touched his cheek, his claws coming back with a dark liquid. He looked down at his fingers before slowly meeting my eyes. That's when it clicked. I felt a rush of cold reality over my body. Matching cuts. A soulmate match.
I put both hands in the ground and pushed myself up. I ran down the alley, jumping over my attacker, and bolted for my home. I tripped several times but nothing was going to stop me. People stared at me as if I had seen a ghost. They didn't know that I had seen worse.
Everything hurt by the time I reached my apartment. I hadn't seen him since the alley so I hoped that meant I had lost him. I fumbled with my keys, struggling for several minutes to get the small key into the lock. I fell into my apartment and slammed the door shut with my feet. I turned the lock and crawled into the corner of the living room. I hugged my legs and stared into the dark apartment. Everything was spinning and unnatural colors jumped out at me. I felt jittery, like everything inside me was buzzing.
I stayed there for several minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door. What was I thinking? I had just led the most powerful mage on this side of the country to my doorstep. I should've hid somewhere else. He of all people could follow someone without being noticed.
The only tell of time was the old clock on the fireplace mantle. I stayed in the corner for nearly forty-minutes, unmoving. Time seemed to be past uncharacteristically fast. I blamed the drugs on that. How long before this wore off, again? It wasn't the first time I had ingested this type of drug. It was the drug they used to keep mages from using their magic.
I finally found the courage to stand. I flipped the light switch and walked along the wall to the bathroom. I fell against the sink, clinging to the edge just to keep myself up. For such a small amount it was having a huge effect on me. Had the drug gotten stronger or had it been that long since it was used on her?
I turned on the faucet and gulped down the cool water. I splashed my face and tired to blink away the bright colors. No amount of drinking or splashing could return me to my normal state. I practically choked on the water and finally turned it off, grabbing the towel off the rack and pressing it to my face. I carefully straightened my feet and tried standing up. I felt more sturdy on my feet now. This meant that I had passed the peak of the drug. I was on the hill down to my normal state.
I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him. I slipped and fell into the old tub. I slipped into the corner with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.
"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."
"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."
"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.
"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.
"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.
He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already. "I'd like to have a civil conversation, if you don't mind."
It was another moment before I slowly laid my hand on top of his. He was careful to wrap his claws around my hand and didn't roughly pull me to my feet this time. I stepped out of the tub and let him lead me out of the room. He finally let go of my hand, gliding to the small fireplace and lighting it with a snap of his fingers.
He perched himself on one of the chairs and motioned for me to sit in the other one. I quietly obliged, my eyes never once leaving his smiling face. His trademark cane seemingly appeared in his lap.
"What do you want?" I asked less aggressively this time.
"My my, you're a distrustful soul aren't you?" He leaned his cheek on his hand.
"With my history you would be too," I said.
"What do you do for a living?"
"Anything and everything. Really anything that pays me."
"A tradition-breaker I see," he said. "Most women your age are attending school or doing housework for a master or husband."
"Let's just say I'm not well liked."
"Did you know those men?" he prompted.
"No, but they probably knew me."
"Does that happen to you often?"
"It's not frequent but it's not possible to avoid either," I answered. My clasped hands were sweaty and my cheek pinched from the dried blood on it. He was still sporting the same cut on his own cheek, clearly visible in the firelight.
"What did they want with you?" He was sitting straight again with his legs partly crossed and his hands clasped in his lap. Everything in me was tense and conscious. My hair on the back of my neck was standing up. I needed to get the demon out of my house.
"I used to belong to a fight ring."
"Lovely." His tone suggested anything but that. He looked down at his watch and let out a short sigh. "My my, it's sure getting late. We should be heading back."
"We?" I stood up just as he did.
"I can't leave my soulmate in danger, now can I?" He stepped closed to me.
"I know how to go under again," I said quickly. "I'll be leaving town and changing my appearance. No one will know it's me again."
"Then I wouldn't be able to find you again." His eyes grew brighter the further we walked away from the fire. I bumped into the kitchen table and tried to put it between me and him.
"I'm sure this will scar and you'll be able to tell it's me." I pointed to my cheek. "Or I could just let you know where I go. That way you know where I am."
"If I bring you with me I'll always know where you are." I found myself staring at a shadow the second his claws touched my shoulder. I turned and he shoved me into the wall by my neck. "Besides, I of all people could keep you safest." His claws squeezed my neck.
"I feel qui-quite safe, I'm okay. I-I assure you." I casted a forced smile up at him. The room seemed to darken around his bright red eyes.
"I'm sorry, dear, it's not a request." He slipped his hand behind my neck and pulled me against him. He slammed his cane down on the ground with a cold THUD. His hand moved behind my back as the floor disappeared from beneath my feet. I instinctively grabbed at him to keep myself from falling. Wind whipped my hair around but I didn't dare let go.
My feet abruptly touched solid ground and the wind died down. I carefully let go with one hand to move my hair out of the way. Around me was a dark forest and the sound of waves crashing was apparent, as was the smell of the sea.
His chuckled vibrated through me and I jumped away. "Where the hell are we?" I turned around to see a dark mansion sitting on the cliff's edge. It's pointed roofs sliced through the light blue of the set sun.
"Welcome home, dear," Alastor said as he walked past. I spun in a circle, seeing nothing but forest and ocean. How far were they from civilization? For his reputation, probably hundreds of miles. Maybe even thousands. I crossed my arms and rubbed them to keep warm.
I turned around to see him waiting for me. His smile was still plastered to his face but his teeth weren't showing this time. He was leaning on his cane, if you called his stance leaning, at the base of the porch steps. I clenched my teeth and forced my feet to take one step after another.
Once I had reached him, he put a hand up to stop me. He tried to touch my forehead but I jerked back, my knees nearly buckling underneath. "Relax darling," he said, "I can ease the drug effect." I forced myself to be still as he swept his palm across my forehead. My vision cleared and the bright colors disappeared. I felt more stable but my magic was still out of service.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Home, dear." He turned and walked into the old house. I looked around once more before following him. Inside looked as dark as the outside. The door slammed shut and the lights abruptly lit up at the snap of his fingers. The house's true colors came through - a deep purple and velvet with dark wood accents.
To the right was the living room that held the warm fire and large windows. To the left was the dining room with what looked like stacks of old furniture and other timely pieces. Did he collect things?
"You don't..." I hesitated, "you don't think...that you can keep me here for the rest of my life."
"I do." He spun his cane and slammed it into the wood flooring. "Because just as you said, lovely, if you die, I die. You have made a name for yourself just as I have. You should be thanking me really," he said walking past me.
"Thank you?" I scoffed.
"I'm doing you a favor. No more of this running from town to town nonsense. Now you have a place to call home and don't have to worry a hair on your head about living to the next day."
"I'd prefer freedom over a fancy cage. I've survived on my own just fine for twenty-one years of my life. I'm no housemaid."
"Then let me put it simply." He stepped dangerously close until I jammed my heels into the door. He leaned down so his yellow teeth were inches from my nose. "You will remain here for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not." The room began to darken. "I have my ways of keeping people in their place. We may share scars but we don't share pain." His face contorted unnaturally and his eyes looked less humane. I felt sick. "You should remember that when you think of defying me. I'm called the Radio Demon for a reason." He abruptly stood up and the lights came back. "Sound good, darling?"
My shoulders fell with my spirit.
405 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bit from a new dpxdc fic rattling around in my head I'm calling the Meddling Kids AU.
This snippet is so far removed from the context of the larger fic that I can't even imagine what yall are gonna think it's even about, which means it's perfect to throw out as a writing prompt for anyone that's interested haha
---
Well.
Good news: Jon had something that very publicly proved he couldn't be Superboy.
Bad news: his proof came in the form of getting his nose broken in front of the entire school cafeteria.
Weird news: tiny, waifish Danielle Masters - of all people - was the one who managed to actually break his nose when he'd stepped in to try to pull her off of Trip Hemmings.
She wasn't Kryptonian. Not unless Trip and his cronies were also secretly Kryptonians this whole time. She'd fucked them all up almost single-handedly when they'd tried to pull their usual shit with Fredrick Kern and she stepped in. But they were the ones that had started the whole messy fight when Trip decided to sucker punch the petite girl hard enough that the loud, ugly crunch of her broken nose had been heard even over the noise of the cafeteria, shoving her back into the cafeteria table and sending Fredrick's food flying.
She'd gotten slammed a couple more times during the scuffle, but she had given far more than she'd gotten and by the time Jon and Damian and managed to make their way through the crowd of students that had rapidly swarmed the scene of the fight, Trip's two goons were laying on the ground, conscious but groaning in pain and decidedly taken out of the fight.
Jon had surged forward through the crush of the gathered students towards where Danielle and Trip were. The latter sprawled across the table with Danielle on top of him, bleeding and bruised and feral looking with her bared teeth and wild eyes as she wailed down punch after punch on Trip's face. The fight was well and truly over at that point, Danielle clearly the victor, and teachers were on their way. Without even thinking about it Jon had reached out and touched her arm, intending to pull her off the little shit she was rightly wailing on before she could get in even more trouble for being involved with a fight.
It hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Danielle had been so keyed up she hadn't even realized it was him or absorbed anything he'd said, and assuming it was someone looking to hurt her turned one of her swings onto him. He'd had the spit second thought of how he was going to avoid the hit without looking like he had powers when her fist had collided with his face at a speed he hadn’t expected and sent him sprawling to the ground. It wasn't until he felt something hot dripping down his face that he realized she'd actually broken his nose and the pain flooded in.
So.
Danielle Masters was strong enough to break his nose. And still hadn’t managed to hurt anyone else - including fragile, normal humans - past some bad bruised and busted noses. She'd likely hit him as hard as she had out of blind reaction and not true intention to do real harm.
That was a thing.
A weird thing with some big implications.
D had checked, and Danielle Masters wasn't registered as a meta. Which didn't mean she wasn't one or that there was even anything nefarious going on. The uber-rich elite tended to cover things like that up, fine with meta rights and metas running around so long as it wasn't one of their own.
But it was still something.
She was strong enough to break Jon's nose. The number of entities in the world able to do that wasn't a very long list. The fact that a random girl at his school was capable of that was...not necessarily anything to be worried about. But the thing was that Danielle Masters was already someone he and D had been keeping an eye on as being...a little bit beyond the normal kind of weird. And that wasn't even getting into her dad's shady business or the potential connection between her and the weird spike in suicides.
“Here,” He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts at once to find the girl taking up all of them had shifted in her chair over to him to hold out an actual handkerchief to him. “Sorry about…” She motioned with her other hand towards his bloody face, wincing a little as she did. “You didn’t deserve that.”
He took the offered piece of fabric - oddly formal and old fashioned for anyone, let alone a girl like Danielle Masters - as the peace offering it was and offered her an awkward smile. “It was my fault for coming at you from behind,” He said, trying not to be too amused by the fact that they both sounded muffled and ridiculous with their busted noses. “I should have known better after you got jumped like that.”
Danielle shrugged, shifting back into the uncomfortable chairs they’d been parked in outside the dean’s office. The teachers on site were going over the situation with him as they had seen it, and from what Jon could hear were reviewing the CCTV footage from the cafeteria cameras. Trip’s family wasn’t prestigious or wealthy enough for the faculty to put aside their ethics and take his side, so their honest thoughts about the bully getting what he deserved - however annoying it was that they were going to have to deal with it all - shared freely from the perceived privacy of the office. Elle would still get punished for going as far as she did, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be for her.
“Assholes will be assholes.” She said, toying with the tie of her uniform. She’d ripped it off just as the fight had started, in a brief moment between kicking Trip back into his goons and them recovering enough to jump at her again. She had wrapped it around the knuckles of her dominant hand in a fast loop, giving her a little more protection before she then drove her padded fist right into the gut of Jordan Stone. She had followed it up by grabbing Jordan’s own tie and using it to get enough leverage on him to send him flying into Erin Dorner.
It was the kind of quick-thinking adjustment that Jon associated with D. Removing a potential liability, making it an advantage, latching on to any and all weakness in the opposition and using it against them. He wasn’t an expert in hand-to-hand combat the way Damian was - he could hold his own and knew how to fight with his fists as well as his powers, but there was a big difference between his skill and D’s - but he knew enough to be able to tell that Danielle wasn’t formerly trained. She was fast and quick and clever, but everything she did spoke of scrabbling street fighting brawls and learning from painful experience.
Something else to add to the seemingly endless list of things that were weird about Danielle Masters.
Because why would the daughter of one of the richest men in the country know how to scrap like a street fighter? Most rich kids didn’t really know how to fight at all, or if they did it was self-defense lessons taught by the best martial artists in the world. Maybe it was because of her meta powers? A fear of it getting out if she was taught to fight and ended up destroying a training dummy right with a single hit? But then how did she know to fight at all?
He teased Damian for going all Bernard Dowd on him for the oversized corkboard with all the notes and pictures and red thread, but Jon got it. Every new insight into the enigma that was Danielle Masters only ever led to a thousand more questions. A mystery only ever made murkier the more was known, instead of less.
—
Danielle - Elle, she’d told him to call her, a little fierce, even as her eyes were sad - hadn’t been afraid during the fight with Trip and his cronies.
Or if she had, her heart rate had never indicated it. It had risen during the fight sure, but it had been the steady quickening of a body exercising. No jackrabbit quickness, just an even increase in rate to account for her quick movements and hard hits. She hadn’t even really broken a sweat. She’d been steady the entire time, from the first sucker punch she’d taken to the face to the last she’d thrown herself at Jon.
She was scared now.
Dr. Penelope Spektor stood over the girl, usual bright, smiling face set in an unreadable mask as she stared down at Elle. Beneath the lighting of the waiting room outside the Dean’s office in her smart red suit and her glasses pushed up atop her head to rest against her bright red hair she looked almost like the devil. Jon wasn’t sure why that thought came to him. The school counselor had only ever been kind to him during the few times they’d spoken about his scholarship at Gotham Academy and his options for colleges. Maybe it was the intensity of her green eyes, the way they almost seemed to glow as they bore into Elle.
Maybe it was the way that Elle’s heartbeat had ticked up and started hammering in her chest the moment Dr. Spektor’s sharp heels were heard clicking down the hall towards them. The way she shrunk into herself as the woman moved to stand before her, above her, not saying a word. The way Elle looked like she wanted to fling herself from the chair and run as far and fast away from the woman as she could.
“I didn’t start-“ Elle’s voice was reedy, unsteady with fear and anxiety.
“Silence.”
Jon felt cold.
Elle snapped her mouth shut with a painful, jarring clack. Fast enough and hard enough to be painful. He thought he could hear one of her back molars crack from the force. He definitely heard her heart rate pick up even faster in her chest. So quick he was afraid it might just give out on her entirely. He saw the faint tremble of her hands as she wrapped them around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer with a kind of desperate hold as she clung to her own arms.
“I’ve called to inform your father of this incident.” There was a slithering, dark disgust in the words. A viciousness lacing through her icy tone. “Three days suspension. You will be spending that time with me.”
Elle looked like she might be sick at that, face draining of all color a the judgement the counselor had just given. She didn’t try to speak, to respond, just gave a stiff nod and bowed her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the floor, too much white exposed. Blood dripped down from her nose again, the thundering of her pulse breaking through the clotting and making bright red drip down her face.
Dr. Spektor’s gaze slid over to where Jon sat, frozen in place by the strange scene before him. In a blink her face smoothed out, back into the pleasant, welcoming smile she always wore whenever speaking to a student. “Oh my, Mr. Kent I had heard you got injured while trying to break that horrible ruckus up earlier.” She tisked lightly, and Elle flinched a little at the sound. “I’m so sorry about that, Danielle has a bad habit of getting into trouble and I hate to see that she’s gotten you involved in her mess this time.”
Jon, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, felt oddly at ease at her words. As strange as the feeling of being frozen in place that had overtaken him as he watched the tense scene between the school counselor and Elle. A slow, honey-thick feeling of calm, laced through with understanding and acceptance.
“It’s okay.” He said, throat feeling tight around the words. It wasn’t alright, he wanted to get to his feet, to put himself between Elle and Spektor. Wanted to drag the girl away somewhere safe and try and make her feel better, try and figure out just what was going on and why she was so afraid of the red-headed woman.
It was alright, though. He could feel it, settling into his chest, relaxing his shoulders, soothing away the tense anxiety. It was a little odd, but he just didn’t have the context of it all probably. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about.
Elle was still hunched over, shoulder’s tight, eyes now squeazed tight. Her grip on her arms like a vice, squeezing with enough force she had to be bruising beneath the layers of her school uniform. Her heart rate a roaring drum in her chest, heart slamming painfully against the cage of her ribs, afraid, terrified.
“The fight wasn’t her fault Dr. Spektor.” He said, the words feeling like burning tar against his tongue, even though he knew the truth of them. “Trip and the other two attacked her first when she was trying to get them to leave the person they were bullying alone. She was just defending herself.”
Dr. Spektor’s lips twitched, just a little. Her expression held on her normal warm smile but something curled at the edges of her smile, the corners of her bright green eyes. Dark and deep, sharp as shattered glass and viciously, sickeningly pleased. She pulled her glasses off her head and set them back in place on her nose and the glimpse of that hungry thing beneath was gone.
Never there at all. A trick of the light. Too much time seeing the worst of humanity as Superboy and mistakenly thinking he saw it in the pleasant, kind face of the school’s counselor. Nothing to worry about at all. It was fine. He felt fine about all of it.
Elle was crying now.
He felt sick.
“Well, that is good to know.” Dr. Spektor said, voice honey sweet and lulling. “But I would hate for Danielle to fall into those old, nasty habits of hers. Better to make sure she understands that violence is never the answer.” She stepped over to him, leaning over to settle concerned eyes upon him and a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprisingly cool even through the weight of his blazer and the layers beneath. “Again I am so sorry you got hurt, Mr. Kent. I do hope Danielle can make it up to you later. She could use a good influence like you in her life.”
The sick feeling in his gut grew worse, even as his body was flooded with a sense of blissful contentment and unquestioning understanding of the situation. The vague idea that had been bubbling in him since the start of the school year to reach out to the girl in question solidified into a determined certainty that he would do just that the first chance he got. A flame flourishing at the gentle encouragement of a fan.
Just behind the school counselor Elle was terrified out of her mind.
Elle was just a little upset that she got in trouble, she’d be fine.
Dr. Spektor was treating Elle with a barely contained cruelty, venomous and wrathful.
Dr. Spektor was treating Elle normally, disappointed that she resorted to violence.
It was all wrong.
It was all perfectly fine.
The counselor stood up straight, gave him one last pat on the shoulder and a smile before turning towards the door of the Dean’s office. Her smile slipped for just a moment, face back in that disdainful blankness as she plucked invisible lint from her suit jacket. Not even looking at Elle as she gave a short, “Go to the car. Wait there. No detours. No calls. Speak to no one.”
Elle lurched into motion, getting to her feet with a mechanical kind of stiffness. She didn’t run down the hall but her awkward, robotic gate was nearly at that speed as she almost threw herself down the hall towards the side entrance where the staff parking lot was.
Dr. Spektor’s smile returned. Professional. Polite. The person everyone in school knew they could reach out to and trust if there was anything wrong, if they needed help. Guiding the students with a gentle hand, bolstering the faculty with her bright positivity. She knocked on the door and entered upon invitation with her familiar cheer.
Something was deeply, truly wrong with everything going on here.
Everything was perfectly normal.
D found him ten minutes later, dry heaving in the boys’ bathroom.
He couldn’t remember why he was there.
Everything was fine.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc#dani phantom#danielle phantom#jon kent#jon el kent#jonathan kent#damian wayne#penelope spectra#vlad plasmius#super serious chaos#eventual super serious chaos#but for now there's far too many mysterious going on#spectra is the absolute worse and i hate her and I made her powers even worse in this#poor elle#poor jon#poor spectra when damian gets his hands on her#curious what yall think is going on here#meddling kids au
674 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs
Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.
NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!
Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)
Daddy kink
Enemies to lovers
Summer vibes & party fics
Personal faves from my own writings
Other blogs I love
Tumblr
@1d1195
One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.
@a-strange-familiar
Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.
@adorebeaa
One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…
@awideworldoffanfics
Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.
@be-with-me-so-happily
Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)
Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...
One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.
Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.
@bopbopstyles
Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)
@fkinavocado
Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)
Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)
One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs
@freedomfireflies
Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.
Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?
Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!
@goldenbuckyyy
Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)
@harryistheonlyoneforme
One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)
@harrywritingsbyme
Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT
@helladirections
Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words.
One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.
One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together?
@itslottiehere
One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.
@jawllines
Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)
Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)
Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)
Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry
Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)
@jarofstyles
King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry
Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry
Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.
@lemoncrushh
Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II
One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II
@lukesaprince
Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)
Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)
Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).
Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.
@moonchildstyles
Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry
Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry
Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry
Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry
@0oolookitsme
One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy.
One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n
@0nlythrowharrybeaux
Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.
Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.
@pleasingforharry
Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.
@purplekiwis
Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.
In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…
One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)
@s-brant
Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.
One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.
@stylesloveclub
Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy.
@swiftmendeshoran
Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader
@watchmegetobsessed
Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.
Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.
Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader
@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)
One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader
@zayndrivesmeinvain
Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry
i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!
Wattpad
1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)
Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.
_miiki
Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.
Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly
Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them
ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom
Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.
Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)
Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?
Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty
Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.
MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)
Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark
Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?
Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"
Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)
Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.
Petit_cerise
Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.
Sunflowersnstuff
Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.
ThousandYearsOfHope
Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?
Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.
Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)
Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steddie Upside-down AU Part 21
Part 1 Part 20
Steve’s dragging his feet on their way out the door, not that Eddie can blame him. He’s practically been vivisected by that thing twice now, and Eddie can’t blame him for not wanting to see it again.
Eddie wants to sandwich Steve in the middle. He’s listing on his feet, and his skin’s ashy and pale from all the blood loss. But he’d shoved Will in-between them like usual, and that was that.
He keeps his pace slow and measured without making it obvious he’s doing it. Steve will kick up a fuss if he realizes it’s to accommodate him. He keeps his ears peeled.
They’re walking around in a hellscape, weaponless. Just like old times.
They don’t make it to the quarry. They’ve barely made it anywhere at all when there’s a scream that sounds alarmingly human.
It, of course, comes from the woods. The trees tower over them, casting looming shadows. They all freeze like dear in the crosshairs of a car’s headlights.
It’s quiet.
So, so quiet.
Then, “Nancy?” muffled, like it’s being screamed through a straw. “Nancy, are you there?”
“Jonathan,” Will says, taking off into the woods, Steve right behind him because “Nancy” can’t mean anyone other than Nancy Wheeler.
“No, no don’t,” Eddie says, knowing it’s too late. “Son of a bitch!” The trees cast shadows, long and menacing as they swallow Steve and Will up. Eddie runs. “Oh, this is so stupid, this is so stupid.”
“Follow my voice!” Jonathan calls again. Eddie does.
He doesn’t hear the clicking of the Demogorgon until he sees it. Will and Steve are frozen, watching it stalk toward where Nancy Wheeler is crouched, peering into a pulsing red light between two trees.
Steve turns toward Eddie, eyes wild. “Keep the kid alive, Munson.”
Eddie’s stomach lurches violently enough that bile fills his mouth. Because Steve is standing there, weaponless and injured. There’s ash coating his hair, band-aids plastered to his forehead, dirt caking his pants to his thighs. A fallen angel in the making.
“No,” he whispers, voice gaining volume as his words gain speed. “No, no, don’t do this to me.” He takes a step toward Steve, not caring at the twig snapping beneath his foot. “Come on, come one, I dare you to stay alive.”
Steve smiles with his whole face. Blood drips down from beneath the bandages on his forehead. It looks black in the shadowed wood. “I didn’t pick dare he says.”
Then, beautiful, brave, fucking stupid Steve Harrington runs at the Demogorgon, screaming as he punches it in the back of its head.
“Come get me, you fucker,” Steve spits. The Demogorgon’s face splits open, and it screeches, guttural.
“Steve?” Nancy calls. Her hands stuck in the red light now, but she’s just sitting there, staring at Steve like she’s never seen him before.
The last thing Eddie sees of Steve Harrington is his back as he bolts through the trees, the Demogorgon following close behind.
“Eddie,” Will cries. He’s tugging Eddie relentlessly toward where Nancy’s still crouched. They’re stumbling over every root and rock because Eddie refuses to look away from the spot Steve had been. If he looks away, that’ll be it. Steve will be gone.
But then the kid shoves him, hard, and he falls. Nancy Wheeler latches onto his arm hard. Just as unrelenting as Will’s grip on his waist.
They’re pulled through the pulsing red hole in the world. It’s a squeezing, almost violent pressure, that pops along with his eardrums once they’re free.
It’s nighttime in the real world. He doesn’t realize the shadows of that place had been wrong until he seems the right once more. His breath comes easy, clear of ash and that pulsing red. He doesn’t care.
Eddie turns back to where they’d come, but it’s just fucking bark. Innate fucking wood. He slams the heel of his palm on it, trying to find any give at all.
“Will?” Jonathan says, voice breaking. Eddie doesn’t care, barely registers it at all.
“No,” Eddie cries. He doesn’t feel his nails give as he starts clawing at the thing, like he can scratch his way back to where he’s supposed to be. “No, no, no!”
He doesn’t stop until someone pulls him bodily back and away. He struggles like an animal in a trap. Doesn’t stop until another set of arms box him in, holding him back.
He sags, bringing all three of them to the ground. His throat feels raw, like he’s been screaming. Maybe he has.
He lands partially on other bodies, feels them shove him off. Doesn’t care. Just stares at the bark where Steve Harrington isn’t until Will calls, “Eddie?”
He turns on hands and knees. The ground is cold, but Eddie barely feels it. Will’s in his brother’s arms, face pressed into Jonathan’s chest, one eye watching Eddie, wide and trusting.
Nancy is on her butt in the dirt, mouth still parted in shock as she looks at the same spot Eddie was just staring at. She’s wearing a brown jacket with pristine white trim, hair in a perky ponytail. Eddie wants to yank it clean off her head.
Beside Nancy, her redheaded friend sits, squinting suspiciously between Eddie, and Will, and Nancy, then back to Eddie, like she can’t figure out who’s fault this is.
It’s Eddie’s. He sinks his fingers into the dirt, clutching it in his fingers, even as his messed-up pinkie screams. He barely feels it past the shock.
He can still see Steve Harrington’s back as he turned away for the last time.
“I’ve got to go back,” Eddie says, looking up at Nancy imploringly. “How do I go back?”
Nancy shakes her head, shaking loose a few tears that trail down her cheeks. “I don’t—” she says, swallowing. “I don’t know.”
Eddie makes a sound like a wounded dog, full of unwanted pain and impotent rage.
“Why the hell would we go back?” Nancy’s friend asks.
It’s like the words are the last cut needed to break him. Eddie starts sobbing, barely hears Will’s answer over his own devastation.
“It’s Steve,” he says. “He’s still there.”
Part 22
#steddie upsidedown au#steddie fic#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#my fic#eddie in my outline was supposed to stay in the UD but then he just didn't???? so
494 notes
·
View notes
Text
I made my versions of designs for ceroba starlo and martlet for the au!!! (Does the trio have a name? Would cowboy fanclub suffice for now???)
Starlo: Still runs the town as a rootin' tootin' Cowboy but now spends his time also helping out at home with his parents. Ever since Clover passed he had gained a deeper appreciation to those he considers close and reconciled with his family! He runs all over town helping provide food and entertainment and has turned the wild east into a pretty popular area. (It likely also helps that he got a decent amount of funding from the king to do this as kind-of an apology since in this au he knows that clover gave up their life and feels prettyyyy bad about it kabdks)
Martlet: Took up a job at the post office (duh) with her speed and agility (that's only present in flying oof) she can go through all the underground within the day. She has a side job as a carpenter and aids in building homes, does comissions n stuff (which doesn't often pay the bills hence the post job) she has a small wooden statue of a western looking figure with a clover indent on its hat always present on her work desk for some reason. Those who visit never ask.
Ceroba: After Clover had passed, Ceroba had spent a while mourning at Dina's when suddenly the towns sherrif took her to a schoolhouse nearby (maybe in waterfall idk, but somehow starlo knows that the teacher was out that day) and asked her to read to the kids, who were starry-eyed at the stories she could tell. She took up a job helping out as a sub/TA 'cause while she likes soke of the kids she doesn't want to deal with the exhausting experience of lesson planning n stuff and now volunteers in bake sales and activities to cope. More recently now that the barrier's broken and Kanako[?] Had been returned to her by alphys she is keen more tha ever to not let her kid out of sight, that may prove to be difficult as the amalgamate that houses her daughter and a couple of other monsters is very curious and after being trapped for so long wants to explore.
(Was tired so i didn't draw dalv but he exists and hangs around, makes books for kids and preforms as shown in canon. But in addition he explores the underground to draw landscapes to practice his art so you can see him quietly walking around listening to music)
#art#sorry for the tags#drawing#uty#“Lucky” Clover Au#undertale yellow#ceroba#uty ceroba#martlet uty#undertale yellow martlet#starlo#starlo uty
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓
pairing: boothill x gn!ex-undertaker!reader
genre(s): western!au, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 14k
warnings: written before v2.2 & boothill's release, blood, injury, gun violence, swearing, alcohol consumption, implied/referrenced alcoholism, suicidal thoughts, graphic depictions of violence, death
notes: I've spent about the last month working on this a little bit each day, so I hope you enjoy this labor of love :). Feel free to tell me any warnings I might have missed! I also want to add that this is told in the past and present with flashback scenes in italics. Anyway, here are some flowers as a thank you for everyone who reads this! 💐 <3
Read it on ao3!
~~~
Dark clouds shrouded the sky as shots rang out across the valley. Dried mud fell from the edges of your boots in time with the gallops of your horse. Turning back, you aimed your revolver at one of the officers, red spread over his dirtied shirt not long after. A silver bullet grazed its way over the left side of your neck, leaving a stream of scarlet running down to stain your sharp white collar. The tarnished grey vest covering it blew open harshly in the breeze as you winded down the path into town.
Shouts echoed in the street as you leaned down, bringing the reins closer to your chest. Dainty yellow flowers reflecting the bit of sunlight breaking from the coming storm became trampled by hooves. Jumping the fence into a stranger’s backyard, you once again shot at another pursuant. He fell crudely from his ride, the horse startled and stopping before the same pickets.
With just one now on your tail, you jumped again, making a quick right down a small pathway and breaking out into the wide and dusty main street. Townsfolk jogged for cover in the shops, not unfamiliar with this song and dance, and carrying enough awareness to leave what could become an impromptu duel.
You spot a figure stepping out quietly from the nearby saloon, making his way behind the establishment. Bringing the reins together in one hand, you pulled tightly. Your horse stopped, and you brought them around to face the remaining officer – the deputy based on his badge. He pulled down the hammer on his revolver, aiming straight for your forehead. Bringing your hands up, you faced your palms outward alongside your head in mock defense. A small smirk grew on your face as you picked up on near silent hooves approaching the street.
“What’re you smilin’ about?” he asked pointedly.
A bang came from before you as blood splattered and flowed from the deputy’s head. He landed limp in the damp dirt, a look in his eyes that you could recall anywhere. The gaze of death – a complete absence of life in a form once animated.
A large stallion sidled up to you, a familiar head of black and white hair gesturing toward the path out of town. Angry shouting filled the street as people left their shelters, some staring you down and others rapidly walking to you, waving a hand or a weapon.
“We’d best get out of here before you can raise some more heaven.”
“You lead the way, then.”
With a wild speed, he took off ahead of you, wool cape billowing in the chilled air. You caught up quickly however, racing to pass the city limits and be in the wide-open again.
Desert ironwoods and mesquite trees became more abundant among the varying cacti. White translucent blossoms formed on some of them, while others rested uniquely. The sun began to pour further from the clouds, casting its rays over the light brown land as you rode on. At the top of a shady hill, you paused for a drink.
A husky voice broke through the birdsong, “Why don’t you get down for a minute?”
You looked at him quizzically, drying the corner of your mouth.
He matched your gaze sternly, “Well, first, you’re bleedin’ out the side of your neck. Second, I’m curious what that sweet mess you brought into town was,” his gaze softened as a proud smile grew on his face, “and third, I wanna hold you under the tree for a bit. It’s midday and I had ordered some fine lunch from the bar. I wasn’t expecting to be shootin’ a man instead of sittin’ with you.” he finished with a chuckle.
“You can sit with me now.” you retorted, lifting one leg around and off of your horse before making the jump off.
“Indeed, I can.” he replied smoothly, reciprocating your action.
Drawing open the satchel hanging along his stallion, Boothill pulled out two small packs – one likely containing a meal and the other a makeshift aid kit. Although he never needed food, and rarely required bandages, he would always carry them in the event that your supplies would run out. It was part of the reason he had initially gone into town, but you happened to bring in the lawmen on your way to meet him.
Tidying the braid in your horse’s hair, you felt cold fingertips brush against your shirt collar, shifting it to the side. A white cloth rested on your empty saddle, a few materials from the aid kit on top. A cold rag rubbed against the outer edges of your scrape before it was placed on your shoulder, the left side being held to the front of your neck. Water flowed down along the wound, giving the cloth a light pink color. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but one that you had grown used to after years on the range.
Another wet cloth swiped across the injury, leaving light streaks of antiseptic behind. A quick rip reached your ears before a flat gauze pad was gently placed at the site and a gauze wrap surrounded your neck snugly. It would only stay for a few days, needing your remaining kit supplies to be maintained.
A grey brim soon came into view as a hat was placed on your head.
“Now you’re lookin’ like a real outlaw.” Boothill smiled as he gathered up all of the medical items and walked them back to his satchel.
You snickered before replying, “Should I get one the next time we go to Warren? I’d reckon it’s about time.”
“I’m afraid we ain’t got the funds for that right now, there’s just enough to get provisions.”
“I never said I would be buying one, cowboy.” You retorted, slowly striding to where he stood and flicking your borrowed hat upward.
“Well go ahead and take ‘em for all they’ve got, then we can pay a little visit to the theater.” He slid his right arm around your waist, lightly dragging you closer.
“Are you askin’ me on a date?”
“Maybe I am, sugar.”
Placing his hat back on his head, you left a small kiss on his cheek and turned out of his arms, swiping your lunch from his saddle in the process. “Why don’t we have one now?”
He smiled, teeth sharp and eyes playful, before following behind you to the tree.
—
PART I - Sorrow-Gilded Equals
“Boothill, that’s my name.” The cyborg in front of you replied, swirling his glass of whiskey before drinking it down.
He stood tall, a firm steel body paired with shining silver eyes, determination reverberating in his gaze. It seemed only natural that he was the first to draw your attention, raucously celebrating the year’s final round-up with his fellow rangers.
“Say, undertaker,” he looked over, “care to join us for a round?”
You glanced backward from the bar to the faro table housing a few of the gang. A hand hit the wood in laughter, empty amber bottles rattling against each other. The owner of said hand brought twelve checks back to his stacks.
“Quit your cacklin’, you smug cutie!” Boothill shouted, leaning back against the bar.
“Oh, you flatter me, you gunslingin’ sack of shit! Get over here and give me a fun time, why don’t you!”
“Gunslingin’, huh?” you teased, “I thought that was forbidden on the trail.”
“Well, I ain’t never been one for rules.”
“Really, now? And here I thought cowboys had a sense of honor.”
“We do, but it don’t always follow convention.”
With a hum you turned, walking slowly to the group’s oval table. “I’ll join you, and so will he.” A gesture toward Boothill brought him over, where he took a seat across from you. After a few curt introductions, he voiced, “Will here is the banker,” before pulling out a small bag of nickels from a satchel on his belt.
You followed suit and exchanged them for checks and a hexagonal copper token from Will. He layed out all of the spades in two rows on his board – ace through 6 on the top, and king through 8 on the bottom. The seven sat at the end of both rows between the 6 and the 8. He placed another deck of cards in the dealing box and drew the soda before burning it off.
You placed one of your checks on the nine, betting that it would be drawn second. Will pulled and revealed the first of two cards in the deck. A three, to which Isaac had groaned. Next, he revealed the second card, a nine. With the losing and winning ranks determined, you had won the bet at 1 to 1 odds, bringing in another check on top of the one you wagered. Isaac lost his check to Will, leaving Boothill and Lee’s bets still on the table.
The losing card from the previous round went beside the face-down soda card. You placed two checks on five this time, watching as Boothill put three with yours. Isaac went for four, and Lee remained on ten. Five was the winning card this round.
The black, white, and red of the cards began to fade together as the night went on. After several rounds, you found yourself toe to toe with the “gunslinger”. He didn’t speak a word as you both prepared for the final bet.
Ten of your checks went on one, and ten of his were set on eight.
Will drew and displayed the cards, one was the second, making you the victor.
Boothill relaxed into his chair with a low whistle, “Seems like I’ve finally got some competition! What d’ya say to another game?”
“Well, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. Ready for a duel, cowboy?”
“Always.” he smiled, shifting forward to prepare for the coming rounds.
As Will prepped the next game, the doors to the saloon broke open abruptly.
“There you are, you no-good son of a bitch!”
A bang echoed through the saloon as a bullet shot straight for your table. A silver revolver appeared in view before sharp lead was firing toward the entrance. Boothill’s gun returned to its holster as the intruding man crumpled to the floor. Blood covered the wood, spreading into the grain and taking its place among the many stains.
Isaac approached the bartender, likely trying to give him some money and charm to resolve the incident. Lee strode to the body, kicking it over and revealing a green bandana in their pocket.
“Yep, no doubt he was here for us, Hill. One of Walker’s boys.”
You were slightly familiar with the name; Lloyd Walker was in charge of one of the most prominent gangs around. There were countless ambushes with him as the figurehead, and just from the mention alone you could observe various reactions across the establishment. Few continued on in their games, veterans to these types of conflict. Others seemed stiff or enraptured in conversation about the man. In the case of many of these rangers, their eyes had a fire of revenge.
Walking to stand by Lee, you folded your arms. “Well, he ain’t one of Walker’s boys, anymore. He’ll be mine by morning and the dirt’s by sundown.”
“Need help moving him?” Boothill offered, leaning down to pick up the fallen gun.
“Sure.” you accepted plainly.
He handed the gun to Lee who inspected it as Boothill lifted the corpse, carrying him over his shoulder without a care. The jaunty tune of the piano resumed as you left the saloon with the gunslinger.
"I must admit, undertaker, this here was quite the party."
"Glad I could entertain."
“It wasn’t just you. I forgot how much I missed the thrill of a standoff; this old town doesn’t provide those opportunities like it used to.”
“How roguish for a ranger, but I’d have to agree.”
“Oh? Is the resident mortician gettin’ into trouble after hours?”
“Only with you around.”
“But we’ve only known each other for a night, unless I’ve ran into you somewhere before?”
Your boots resounded over the boardwalk deck as you kept walking silently to the front of your parlor. He didn't press further and waited quietly for you to unlock the back door.
With a creak, said door went wide open and you watched carefully as he flipped the body over on a mortuary table.
Finished, he grabbed a nearby towel to dry the blood off and clean himself up. You got a better look at him as he did so, no longer caught up in games and drinking.
A story spread around town, over a decade ago. It didn't stick around for long, but you witnessed it yourself. There was a boy – probably about fifteen at the time. He arrived on the back of a horse before being taken into the jailhouse. At the end of the week, he had been released, and took up odd jobs around the area. He headed out on the range a few months later for the fall round-up, then never came back.
"I'll see myself out, good luck with this rottin’ sweetheart."
A hand turned the back door open once more before Boothill exit casually. It was half-closed when you finally responded.
"Perhaps."
He paused, shifting to look you in the eyes.
"You're Jesse Blackwell, right?"
His gaze fell to the floor, "Once, but I ain't anymore… Goodnight, undertaker.” He dismissed with a tip of his hat and a small smile, shutting the door as he left.
—
Soaked ground squelched beneath your boots, the now sunny sky reflecting in the soft brown. The streets of Warren were bustling, showcasing its status as the second largest city in the state. A dark grey cowboy hat rested on your head, a shining black belt running around its center. Stealing it was easy, all you had to do was get some drunken fool to follow you to an alley. Point your gun at him and wait for him to give you all he has, then leave with a cold threat – revolver boring hard into his head. If he talks, he’ll be hunted down and stripped of his tongue. If he runs after that, he’ll be gunned down where he stands. You had done it before, and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
Boothill opened the doors to Jerrell’s General Goods a few buildings down the road, disappearing inside. You leaned up against one of the front posts of the hotel, watching coaches and uncovered wagons traverse the main street. Your horse whinnied from beside you where they stood, resting and glancing around on occasion. A soft breeze brushed against your neck, the chill of former rain still present. Small thumps came from your left as somebody passed behind you.
A hand landed on your shoulder, turning you around against the post. They gripped the collar of your shirt, leveling their gaze with yours.
“I’ve been lookin’ for you for a long time, you coward.” They threw you into the mud, stepping down from the deck in anger. “You remember me?”
Standing up you replied, “Somebody’s always got a feud with a person like me, I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific.”
“Town of Fort Talia, five years ago. You murdered my brother.”
“Jasper?”
“Well, it seems you do recall.”
He swung his right arm, fist colliding with the side of your face. It hurt terribly, but fights weren't uncommon to you. With where you grew up, and some training from Boothill, it came easy now.
You raised your own right arm, blocking his next hit before bringing your left up to target underneath his nose. He stumbled back a bit at the pain, and you hit again at his right cheek and then upward from under his jaw. He took a second to level himself before spitting at the ground and pulling his pistol from his pocket. He turned it over in his hand, the grip facing outward.
"Do you not know how to use it, Ellis?
"I do, but I want you to feel my sufferin’ first.”
The grip crossed your cheekbone, sending a sharp sting across the plane. With you now staggered, a knife plunged into your torso just above the hip. It remained lodged in your flesh as you clashed onto the ground, mud coating your clothes.
Ellis stood still for a moment, watching. He glanced down at the gun, preparing to fire it off. Quickly and with slight caution, you drew your revolver and shot him between the eyes. He fell as the horses shifted and voiced their discomfort. Your head lay in the mud, breath trying to calm after the incident.
"You've always been a good-for-nothing piece of shit, Ellis." You whispered.
Standing up carefully and to the best of your ability, you heard something heavy landing on wood before wet footsteps.
“Hey, now,” Boothill said, hands coming to brace your elbows and steady you. “Who came and dragged you to heaven?” His eyes assessed you – up and down, side to side – then he brought your left arm around his neck.
"You couldn't hear us fightin' from the store? Here I thought you’re supposed to have superior hearing.”
Ignoring you, he placed you against your horse, retrieving the full satchels from the deck and laying them down beside you. His cold hands came to pick you up, setting you just behind his saddle, legs hanging over the side to keep yourself in the stablest condition possible. Lifting his right leg under himself, he mounted his stallion, beginning to ride down the main street to a destination unknown.
"What about…" you trailed off, eyes growing weary.
"I’ll take care of it, you just rest."
"Whatever you say, cowboy."
Your head rested against his right shoulder, the cool leather of his jacket soothing the burning cuts from Ellis' pistol. The only thing keeping you lucid was the persistent movement inside of you, slicing against more flesh at every stomp of hooves. If you had a mirror, you're sure that you'd look like hell – Boothill was right.
It was saddening that the other Weston boy had spent the last few years hunting you down. He spent practically his entire life distant and running away, and now he had the guts to ambush you in the city. Still, you supposed whatever old grudge he carried now lay dead alongside him.
—
The first time you laid eyes on Jasper was at his mother's funeral. He stood in a thick coat beside his brother watching wordlessly on with silent tears. A wooden cross sat before a mound of dirt, engraved with the following:
Callie Weston
A strong mother, and relentless woman.
1851 - 1879
Her grave wasn’t far from your father’s, a bushel of freshly picked desert marigolds resting under his own headstone from your visit. Two of the bright yellow flowers still rested in your pocket as you walked to the family’s side.
Placing the blossoms underneath the delicately carved wood, you spoke softly, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Ellis whispered.
“I’m sorry for yours as well.” Jasper had replied.
With a nod of your head, you left them to their mourning.
~
When you made it into town from the cemetery, shouts could be heard in front of the saloon.
“Go home, you idiot!”
“Have a little compassion!”
“I do, but my compassion doesn’t include wastin’ away here while your boys are up on that hill.”
The man stumbled slightly down from the deck, voice cracking as he said, “Surely you can understand, mister… please.”
“Go home, Isaiah. Try to sober up before they get back.”
The bartender threw his cloth over his shoulder before leaning against the post, waiting patiently. Isaiah wiped his hand down his bearded face as he exhaled, then walked off down the street toward the few blocks of houses.
Gesturing at a nearby man, the bartender lowly spoke,“Hey, will you follow him? Make sure he stays safe and doesn’t do anythin’ wild.”
You crossed in front of the saloon doors as the man walked off, trailing behind the drunken one.
“Wait a minute, kid.”
Pausing in your steps, you turned around to face the swinging doors to the saloon. The bartender came out as quick as he went in – a bag in hand this time.
“Some oil guy came through town not long ago, ordered more food than he even wanted. There’s untouched steak and soup in there, it’ll probably need to heat up again. Share it or keep it to yourself.”
“Thank you kindly, sir.”
With a polite nod, he disappeared back into the establishment, yelling at some other unruly patrons.
That evening you brought a couple portions of that meal to Jasper and his family. It took a bit of asking around to find them, but soon enough you were knocking on their door.
Ellis answered, looking down at you coldly.
“I wanted to bring you some food. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.”
He took the bag wordlessly, before shutting the door.
~
“I have some stew for you, mama.”
Her gaze never drifted from the window as you placed the warm bowl beside her. Draping a cloth over her lap, you watched her solemn face. Silently, she turned for the bowl, letting it rest in her likely cold hands.
You stood, walking to fetch her tea from the kitchen. Upon return, you found her gently bringing the spoon to her lips, shaking lightly as she did so.
With a soft thud, the mug settled on dark wood. Drawing a book from the nearby shelf you sat down next to her, flipping the leather cover open.
You read calmly from the pages, skipping over or changing words you didn't quite know. It had been a couple years since you stopped going to the schoolhouse, after all. There was just no time after your father died, especially with your mother in this state.
A hand landed quietly on your knee, drawing your attention back to her. Marking your new spot in the book, you set it down with the remnants of her meal.
She brought her hand down to yours, gripping quickly in thanks. It was dejecting seeing her like this, but after this long it was hard to picture her outside of mourning.
"Why do you never talk to me, mama? Did I do somethin' wrong?"
With a shake of her head, her gaze returned to the window and her hands to her lap.
~
About a week later, you remember waking up early to the sound of your dog barking loudly from the front yard. Donning your heavy coat, you opened the door to find Jasper trying to pet her down at the fence line.
"Is this your dog?" he had asked.
"Yes."
"She's real pretty…Thanks by the way, for dinner."
"It's no problem. I had extra."
"I noticed you were visiting someone of your own."
"My papa." you replied, standing beside him and petting the long fur of your dog. "He was caught robbin’ a wagon full of weapons and shot by the lawmen, at least that's what I heard. Mama never said nothin' to me about it."
He hummed, looking down and rubbing behind the ear of your dog.
"My mama was sick for a long time. It was hurtin' my dad forever, probably even more now. He doesn't really care how it makes me feel – my brother neither. They just leave angry in the mornin' and come back even worse at night."
A minute of vulnerable silence passed between you, before Jasper spoke up again.
"Are you headin' to school?"
"No. I'll have to be at work soon."
His eyes seemed wide for a second before he shifted, "Where do you work?"
"At the funeral parlor, as an assistant to the director."
"Why would you pick a job like that?”
“I don’t really know. I just saw the horse-drawn hearse moving down the street and felt somethin’ come over me.”
“I think I can understand,” he whispered, looking down into your dog’s eyes.
He stayed like that for a moment as you rested in the early morning quietness. A bird sang abruptly from the nearby tree, and he perked up once more.
“Would you want to walk down to the river with me? We could try and catch a frog or two before daybreak.”
“I guess.”
“Great,” he nodded.
And that became your routine. Every morning, he would come see you and your dog. Sometimes he would have a little snack for her in hand and other times he would have a paper with some work he couldn’t quite figure out. Being with him by the river was a pleasant thing – something to get both of your minds off of circumstance.
~
“I plan on retiring next year, and I would like for you to be my successor.”
The world seemed to still as Mr. Whitfield sat calmly, waiting for your response. His aging black hair shifted lightly in the wind, his gaze out over the nearby buildings. Cool stone rested under your back as you leaned against the parlor's walls.
“I… I’m honored, sir.”
“Oh, just call me Peter already. We’ve worked together long enough.”
“Thank you, Peter.”
The sounds of the town took over for a moment before he stood up, walking in through the door. A commotion drew your eyes up from the deck, watching as someone rode in with a grumbling figure on the back of their horse. The person in the saddle had a dark green bandana hanging out of their pocket – the trademark of a growing gang in the area.
They dismounted across the street from you, just in front of the jailhouse. Both of the deputies came out shortly after, one talking to the person then bringing them in. The other approached the horse, throwing the figure over his shoulder. They disappeared into the sheriff’s office, seemingly exchanging words about what to do with the two.
“Here are some books I’ve used over the years,” Peter said, a small stack in his hands, “If you’re going to take over the business, there’s more you’ll need to learn. Feel free to take these home if you’d like.”
“I appreciate it.”
He handed the books to you, then returned to his seat in front of the parlor. You decided to join him, setting the stack on your right.
As the gravity of your future inched in, you laid back against the stained wood of the bench. Your right foot tapped on the deck, reverberating over the plane anxiously while your thoughts became jumbled.
“What’s weighing on you, kid?”
“I’m just… starting to doubt myself is all.”
“I was the same as you when I first inherited this business from my father. He was always kind and courteous, served the community well. I’m passing this on to you because I see you as my kin. I have every confidence in you, whether you see the potential in yourself or not.”
His words brought water to your eyes, making you inhale and look away towards the snowy mountains in the distance.
Sniffling brought your attention back as Jasper walked up to the deck, cradling his left arm with the other hand.
“Are you alright, boy?” Peter questioned.
“Could I go inside?” he asked gently, making eye contact with you.
Standing up, you guided him into the entry room of the parlor, watching as he sat on the sofa.
“I ran as fast as I could, I figured since it was day you’d be here.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it yet.”
“Alright. I’ll go get some coffee and an aid kit.”
Turning to leave the room, you heard him speak up again.
“Can I come with you?”
“Of course.”
~
It was probably about five months later when you found Jasper sitting on the bench of the parlor, bottle in hand. After locking the door, you went and took a seat next to him.
“What are you doing, Jas?”
“I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know nothin’ anymore.”
“That’s not true.”
He tilted his head before taking another sip. Your right hand came to rest at the back of his neck.
“Talk to me… please. Nothin’ you say will leave this porch.”
“I… think I’m not cut out for this.”
“What do you mean?”
“This,” he gestured around the street, “I do my best in everything, and it still isn’t good enough. My dad couldn’t give a shit about me and my brother anymore, all he does is drink and sleep. He hardly ever goes to work – I wouldn’t be surprised if he was fired by now! Ellis ain’t much better. He leaves for the farm early, storming into my room and draggin’ me out before he goes. Always tellin’ me I need to grow up – that I’m not man enough for this world. It’s not like I have a job, and I ain’t been going to the schoolhouse much recently either. I figured since I’m set to be finished there soon anyway, I could start skippin’. I just… wish my mama was still here. Even when she was sick, she still went through every day with more strength than I’ve ever had… Looking back now, I think she accepted that death was comin’, and she lived to her fullest because of it. Maybe I could take a page out of her book. I know that this all might seem sudden, but you’re the only one I’ve got.”
“You’re good enough to me, Jas. Even if that doesn’t seem like much, I want you to know. Your family is just too ignorant to understand. You’ve got plenty of grit in you, but you still show that you care.” You sighed before continuing, “And I understand. While my mama might not be dead, she hasn’t spoken since my father died. I still try my best to take care of her, but it’s like she’s just sittin’ there, waiting for her day to come.”
The snorting of a nearby horse broke the heavy atmosphere.
“If it’s a job you want, you’re always welcome here. Peter would gladly have you work the front. Just come talk to him tomorrow.”
“Alright.” he smiled smally.
“Hand me the bottle?”
Glass hit the wooden deck as you set down the exchanged liquor. Standing up, you reached out a hand for him.
“Come on, you can stay with me.”
~
Jasper’s life only worsened just two months after that night at the parlor. He didn’t come in for work that day, and you couldn’t find him anywhere usual in the town.
Crying and a thump at your front door brought you away from your mother’s side. You had been tidying her hair, a simple activity you would do to help her before she started her nightly routine.
Peering from one of the windows, you saw him waiting in your front yard, holding onto your dog for comfort. He looked up in your direction when you emerged from the dimly lit doorway, walking down the stairs from the porch.
“He shot him. Shot him dead, right in front of me.”
You got on your knees in front of him, bringing your hand to his shoulder.
“I… I was comin’ home from a walk, I… I went out to clear my head. Ellis, he stormed out with my dad trailin’ behind him. His eyes… they were just fed up – bloodthirsty almost. He looked at me. God, I’ll never forget that stare. They yelled at each other some more, going’ on about somethin’. My brother… he drew his gun, shot my dad right in the chest four times. He came over to me, put a hand on my head and told me things would be better now. Like hell they will! He took off on some horse – he’s gone now too. Out runnin’ from the law and leavin’ me high and dry with nothing.”
He let go of the dog, running his hand down his face. She walked off to somewhere behind you, sniffing around.
“I’ve got nothin’ but you, now.” He whispered, looking up at you full of turmoil.
You brought both arms around him, feeling him start to cry again.
“I know my dad had his grief, even when my mama was sick he’d be out doin’ who knows what. Still, I… I can’t help this weight on me.”
“It’s natural, Jas. You lost two people tonight, despite your experiences with them, it’s still a loss.”
He exhaled shakily, shifting back from you and rising to stand on his feet. You matched him before bringing your hand back to his shoulder, rubbing your thumb lightly against the edge of his neck.
“How about supper? Would that help a little?”
“Yeah… yeah.” he sighed.
Together you walked to the front door, and on this occasion, your dog followed too.
—
PART II - Redemption for the Wayward
Winces and the metallic echoes of medical tools could be heard from the nearby room. Boothill rested in an entry room chair, leaning back with his hat over his face. There was nothing in this space he wanted to look at – nothing he sought to remember. Your sounds of pain didn’t help either.
He had gotten stitches himself many years ago, but the scars were long gone now.
A sharp cry resounded down the hall, followed by hushed murmurs from the doctor. There was a fiery response, before the room went quiet again.
It wasn't the first time he had found you in trouble – far from it in fact. Since the day you started riding together, it seemed like thunder followed. Be it the sounds of hooves, gunfire, glasses on the table, or simply storms themselves.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
—
"I want to leave with you."
It was the only time you had ever seen surprise on Boothill’s face.
Holding his gaze you continued, “Does that sound like a plan?”
“I… I don’t see why not. Are you sure you don’t want to clean up first?”
As if answering his question, whistles broke out two streets down. A few shouts from who you assumed to be lawmen echoed, sending a wave of fear through you.
“No. I’ll find a river or somethin’ later, right now we just need to get out.”
“Mind explainin’ why they’re lookin’ for you?”
You appeared stunned for a moment, before you recalled the events that led to the blood on your hands.
~
“Please… please just end me already.”
“You know I can’t do that to you, Jas.”
He ran his hand through his hair, revealing more of his distraught face. “You’ve seen me… I’m just like my father and there ain’t nothin’ I can do about it no more.”
“That’s not true.”
“Don’t lie to me, we both know I’m right.”
“Jasper, please, come over here so we can talk this out.”
“We’re talkin’ it out right now.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“I’m sick of talkin’ anyway. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into trying to get rid of this feeling, but it never leaves. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
You stood on the back porch of your parlor, watching as he pulled a gun from his side. He walked to you, leaving it on the chair to your left.
Just three months ago you watched Boothill walk from this porch, the hint of new friendship roaming on the wood.
Two months ago, you bid farewell to your new assistant, a promise of success growing over the stain.
One month ago, your mother spoke to you for the first time in seven years, apologies and regret falling from her lips.
Now, you would be in the greatest standoff of your life.
“If I’m gonna die I want you to do it.”
“No.”
He grabbed your left hand, lifting the gun up from where it rested. “Give me my freedom, please. We both know nothin’ else will.”
“Jas…”
“Stop wastin’ your breath.”
A set of tears rolled down your cheeks, and in a final act of care, Jasper wiped them away.
“Don’t cry for me. I want this. I want to see my mama again, healthy and bright. Maybe even my dad,” his voice broke, “smilin’ and rocking on the porch. I may even see you one day, too.”
He inhaled before bringing your hand up to his forehead, a sad look of acceptance and peace on his face. He nodded, the barrel of the gun shifting up and down.
“Goodbye, Jasper.”
A shot rang out, slightly muffled from the circumstance. Blood splattered down to the dirt, soaking into it crudely. Jasper’s body tumbled back down the wooden steps, landing face up at the end. He looked content, the dead light in his eyes causing conflicting waves of emotion within you.
There would be no time to feel them, though. Not yet. Even if it was nearing midnight, there was always a deputy out somewhere.
You descended the scarlet-covered steps, kneeling down to close his eyes. A warmth spread over your hands as you did so, red coating your fingers when you pulled them away.
Exhaling heavily, you left the back alley, on the lookout for a horse.
Boothill told you he’d be leaving tonight, after a final few rounds of faro at the other saloon in town. Why, he never shared, but you figured it had something to do with the incident a couple months back.
If you were lucky you could join him – head out on the road of an outlaw. It wasn’t an idea you had ever considered before, but now it seemed like the only choice.
~
The fire crackled in front of you, smoke rising to the starry sky. Boothill sat beside you, hands occupied with a knife and a piece of wood, idly carving.
In the silent peace, you felt the gravity of your actions begin to set in. Water crept over your eyes, gathering along the edges and flowing down your cheeks. Your quiet cries were some of the only noise in this area of the desert. Somewhere out of the town limits and secluded enough to provide cover in case of any emergency.
“Do you… have any regrets?” you asked lowly, drying your eyes with an exhale.
Boothill looked up from his work, “Once, but not anymore.”
You hummed, staring into the bright flames before you. Sadness welled once more before you spoke up.
“I shot my oldest friend today. He asked me to, came to me pleading.”
There was no movement or sound, until he set down his tools. “And now you’re out on the road with me.”
The dried blood on your hand felt like a glove as you clenched your fist. “I suppose I am.”
He stood up, walking to his horse’s side. A blanket was in his hands as he returned, tossing it gently in your direction before sitting back down to carve.
“I might not be the best at comfort, but I’ll try.”
You placed the wool underneath your head. Neither of you had the makings of a proper camp yet, but even if it was a makeshift pillow it would work.
“When we were out on the trail, there wasn’t much for occupying your time. Most of it was spent herdin’ and fending off animals or gangs. We often had cards with us, and so we’d sit around a fire like this one at night, playin’ the boring games that didn’t involve gambling. When it was time to sleep, some of us would take our places closer to the cattle. We’d sing or hum to them to keep them calm – they always told me I had the best voice. One that suited folk like us the most.”
With that, he started to hum a tune. It was quiet, and the slicing of wood fell in time with the slow rhythm. The melody was soothing, and with a deep exhale you found yourself letting go. As your eyes drifted further shut, he started singing. They were right, he did have a voice perfect for the range.
—
“Thornton’ll be headin’ out for a while. Said we could use the room upstairs as usual.”
You hummed, buttoning up the fresh shirt the doctor had given you. The space stayed quiet after, as your gaze bore into the bloody knife resting on the cloth-covered table. You stood up carefully, gritting your teeth before you were upright.
Grabbing your hat and gun belt, you met Boothill at the doorway.
“How’re you doin’?” he asked gently, bringing his hand up to the side of your neck. His thumb rubbed along the edge of your jaw as you crossed your arms.
“Fine, still trying to work off the sting.”
“Well that’s better than nothin’, isn’t it?”
He was right, yet, there still was something tugging at your chest. A sensation that weighed on your breath.
“I apologize-”
“There ain’t nothing to apologize for.”
You sighed, “I just hope I haven’t been much of a burden these last few weeks.”
“I take care of you, and you take care of me. It’s that simple. There’ll always be trouble when you live a life like ours,” he chuckled, “I’ll never think less of you for it.”
—
“You've used a gun before, right?”
Boothill looked over at you, an eyebrow raised and a hand resting along his belt.
“Only once.”
“Well then, we're gonna work on your skills today.”
He walked back over to his horse, unclipping a holstered revolver from his equipment. A red and cream package of bullets were placed on his saddle. He gave the brown leather-clad weapon to you, letting you pull it out yourself and feel the cool weight in your palm.
“I wanna see your instinct first. Spot that rock up there?” he gestured toward a miniature cliffside, angling down toward the two of you. A large dark grey stone lay on its edge. “Aim for it and shoot.”
You analyzed the gun for a moment before raising it in both hands, the top of the barrel aligning with the rock. Pulling back the hammer from its half-cocked state, you heard a singular click. Pressing your index finger down on the trigger, a bullet flew from the barrel straight at the stone. It made an echoing crack before the case flung off to the side.
“Not bad. Do it again.”
You shifted your feet in the dirt before taking up your former stance. Aiming, you drew back the hammer as the chamber revolved. Two clicks sounded this time. With a finger on the trigger, you pulled it down to hear the same ringing shot and clack against rock.
Boothill sidled up next to you, bringing your left hand down to your side.
“Another.”
Now only using one hand, you shot once more. A small chip fell from the rock as you hit a second spot.
"Fall back into me a little bit."
"Why?"
"If you're gonna be an outlaw, you best learn to carry yourself like one."
You did as he said, falling back into a casual lean against his chest. His arm came up against the back of yours, carrying it down to your side before lifting it back up again and pointing the revolver at the rock. You brought the hammer back again, before pulling the trigger. You cocked the gun once more, firing another shot at the stone, followed by a third.
A low whistle came from behind you, “Aren’t you a natural?”
“Well, I’m learnin’ from the best.”
“Got that right.”
“Are you always this smug?”
“Only with you.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe that.” you stated, turning around from his hold.
“Really now?”
“You just love to keep on teasin’ me. That’s what it is.”
“And if so?” he questioned, stepping forward as if taking on a challenge.
“I’ll keep doing this dance with you, cowboy.” you tipped his hat down, watching his silver eyes disappear beneath the brim.
“I wouldn’t prefer it any other way.” he flicked it back up, a sharp smirk on his face.
“Now, why don’t you show me how the best shoots? I’d like to see what I’ll be competing with soon.” you stepped back from him, angling the gun toward the rocks.
“I said you were a natural, but I never said you were as practiced as me.”
“Talkin’ down to me?”
“Just statin’ facts.” he tilted his head, spinning his revolver from it’s holster along his leg.
“What a show-off you are.”
“Quit talkin’ and start aimin’.”
“You’re on.”
~
“See those deer?” Boothill whispered, watching beside you as a herd of coues passed by a few yards away.
The wind brushed against your cheeks, carrying the scent of coming rain in the twilight.. There must have been water falling on nearby creosote bushes.
You stared on, admiring how sweet they looked roaming and feeding on cactus fruit.
He smiled at you, seeming almost wistful before his gaze returned to the scene. "I remember we used to see them a lot in the brush along the trail. Big herds stayed longer than just a few of them, less skittish together I suppose." He laughed lightly, genuine and lovely. "The first time I saw a buck was on my family's farm. I had just finished some harvesting, when its antlers caught my eye. The wheat was up to my elbows at the time – I still recall its itch. We had locked eyes, and from that day forward I felt called to be out like them. It was part of my motive for joinin' the round-ups."
"There's a freedom to it – one that you only dream of before you finally live it."
"So articulate. Maybe you should start doing all the talkin'."
You snickered, beginning to pack up your belongings from the small camp you learned to make. "I'm afraid I could never be a poet like you."
"With all this flattery, I just might be inspired enough to pursue that instead."
"I'd better get a dedication, right on the first page.”
"You’ll get the entire book, sugar." He smiled.
"Oh please, save it." You tugged down his hat to hide his teasing eyes.
—
PART III - The Revenant of Vengeance
The wet stone pathways of downtown Warren echoed the heels of your boots. There was little light behind the shops – few people too. It was the perfect spot for a short walk, one that could provide a break from the doctor’s incessant tinkering.
“Well, looky here.” Boothill murmured, pausing to look at a board of papers.
“Think I’ll be up there?” you questioned, hands in your pocket beside him.
“Oh, without a doubt.” his eyes roamed the posters before lighting up at a pair. “Right here, see.”
‘Reward’ was printed in large font at the top. The value of $2,000 sat above text that shared your name, followed by a photo of you from about six years ago, dressed professionally in a well-designed chair at the funeral parlor. Your name was added below it, and a description of your appearance. The signature of the sheriff was penned at the bottom, adding yet another county to your roster.
Boothill’s began the same, with the exception of a $3,500 bounty. An unflattering sketch took up most of the page, as well as key notes about him were added underneath.
“They can never get my eyes right.” he huffed, gaze lingering on the board.
“My picture isn’t even accurate anymore.” you voiced, arms now crossed against your chest. “What lousy lawmen they have here.”
“I’d have to agree.”
With a sigh you continued, “I reckon it’s about time we get back to the office. Before those lawmen spot us.”
“We could take them.”
“Maybe so, but we don’t need larger bounties.”
“Really? I think there’s somethin’ romantic about it. The more wanted you are, the larger the reward. The more opportunities for attention and infamy.”
“Is my attention not good enough?”
“Come on now, sugar, you know I love it more than anything else.”
“Well then head back with me, cowboy, and I’ll show you some.”
He chuckled lowly, “Who could turn down an offer like that?"
As you turned to walk, his hand landed on your shoulder, the other reaching up to the board, ripping off one of the posters.
“Well I'll be.” you mumbled, observing the photo on it from over his arm.
Lloyd Walker, wanted dead or alive with a reward of $5,000. He had practically become public enemy number one in the surrounding areas over the last seven years. He had numerous crimes, and as many tricks up his sleeve to match. At least that's what the rumors said – his gang was only ever unruly.
“What do you say? Is he gonna be our newest target?”
A fire grew in Boothill’s formerly somber eyes, as he turned to you with a smile.
“Absolutely.”
—
The damp and pebble-covered ground was tarnished with deep red, the remnants of injury seeping into the soil beneath a discarded body. It was windless as Jesse laid against the riverbank, staring up into the ray-stricken cloudy sky. Low cries for help continued leaving his bloodied lips, but his energy was wearing thin. Every inch of him ached – stinging or burning the only sensations he could feel.
Still, he couldn’t just lay here and accept death. He was far too stubborn to ever answer a reaper’s call.
And, as if by some little twist of fate, hooves clamped their way toward him until rushing footsteps were the only thing he could hear.
“Good lord, sir, what happened to you?”
~
It was an ambush, plain and simple.
One moment he was talking with the other rangers and the next they were hiding behind rocks or trees, shooting at whatever green bandana they saw. One or two bandits weren’t unusual, but they had never dealt with such a large group before.
He was panicking, running out of bullets and watching his friends fall in the dust. They were overwhelmed with little to no chance of making it out unscathed.
Walker’s people were relentless, though, and they would never leave until they got what they came for or hit the dirt.
How unlucky for them that Jesse was the same.
~
Dilapidated cabins were built together in two rows, some of their group’s stolen cattle grazing off to the side. His horse stopped right at the rotting wood enclosing them, head high as he prepared for revenge. They had killed four of his trailmates, and he would be coming now for at least four of them.
It was bold to break the rules set for round-ups, and Lee’s warnings echoed through his head. There was leniency given to him before, and for this cause, he was sure he’d get it again.
After dismounting, he made his way through the brush to one of the cabins, two revolvers in hand. It was a risky game, but he was willing to play – whether it was the facade of victory or delusion from righteousness keeping him going.
He snuck through the makeshift settlement, hearing bits of laughter from his left. No matter what he did after this, he would have all surrounding eyes on him. Treading lightly, he stalked behind the house until he found a decent opening. He aimed through the cracks in the dark wood, going straight for the heads he could target. With four clicks, both guns were fully cocked and he shot.
It would be the only regret he had in his life.
~
“Time to wake up, my friend.”
An oddly chipper voice reached Jesse’s ears, as if summoning him from a lengthy slumber.
His eyes drifted open, leaving him to feel painless yet confused.
“I’m sure there is much you would like to know, but please, try to become used to this body first.”
This body?
“We’ll need to utilize some methods of physical therapy to ensure that you know how to use it, and that everything is in working order.”
He turned his head in the direction of the voice – a movement that felt unexpectedly stiff.
“You may call me Dr. Thornton, or Claude if you’d prefer. You have been reborn in the city of Warren. Do you remember where that is?”
Reborn?
“Yes, doctor, I do.” his voice hadn’t changed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.
“Wonderful. Do you recall the events that led you here?”
“I was bleedin’ out by a river, after… well I’d prefer not to talk about that part.”
“That is perfectly fine, sir. I found you there, and brought you back to my practice. Well, my unofficial practice I suppose one could call it. What about your name?”
“Jesse Blackwell.” he responded, without any hesitation.
Thornton stood up, drying off his greased hands on a nearby rag. He brought the same towel to Jesse’s neck, but he couldn't feel it. The mild brush of cloth, a sensation he had known well from cleaning himself up, never came. He began to tilt his head downward, but the doctor’s fingers caught his chin.
“Not yet.”
He shifted his chin back up, staring straight ahead as alarm started setting in. Questions plagued his mind, until a sharp snap from behind broke him out of it.
The doctor held his hands out to him, and he placed his own over his open palms. They were grey, metallic, and the more he looked at them, the more they seemed almost mechanical. His thoughts seized him as he found Thornton’s eyes. They seemed proud yet there was a glint hidden under their pine-like color that brought a pensive look to Jesse’s face.
He was guided to take a step, and he heard what sounded like a boot as he did so. It persisted as he was brought across the floor to a doorway, passing into another room. His hands left the doctor’s, falling back to his side as his gaze drifted up to something covered in a white sheet.
“Are you ready to welcome this new life?” Thornton asked.
After a brief moment, Jesse nodded.
The cloth was lifted to reveal a tall mirror, one that reflected every inch of him.
“If there is anything you would like me to change, you need only say the word.”
Silence fell, as Jesse was confronted with rushing realization.
He survived Lloyd Walker, but at what cost? His humanity?
But what constitutes humanity?
Flesh and blood?
The ability to experience empathy and emotion?
His bewildered eyes met the doctor’s – ones that were steady as stone.
Thornton looked into the mirror from beside him. “You are a marvel of human craft, sir.”
Something in him stirred at the words, an anger that he wasn’t well-versed enough to place. The only thing he could do was grab the doctor’s collar, observing him with contempt.
“Come now, Jesse, you best be grateful. I’ve transformed you. You’ve become something that people could only dream of. You cried for help and I gave it to you.”
The doctor stumbled after he was released, moving back into the office, or whatever he liked to call it. Jesse remained in the small room, inspecting himself in the mirror. He stared for a long while, paralyzed by the overwhelming circumstance. He felt violated, like his very being was invaded.
Was his life even his anymore?
No. He couldn’t sink into that void.
~
“You’ve surpassed my expectations, Jesse. Count yourself free to go, though you’re always welcome back for repairs… or a hideout if you find yourself in trouble.”
Clad in monochrome leather, with a few scattered hints of red, the reborn cowboy placed his hat on his head as he opened the front door to Thornton’s establishment.
“My name ain’t Jesse.” he voiced, looking back at the suited man. “It’s Boothill.”
The doctor met his eyes over his glasses, “Farewell then, Boothill.”
—
A disheveled Claude Thornton broke through the spare room’s door, appearing wild and bruised.
“They’re on their way.”
Any plans you had been discussing with Boothill were interrupted as you watched the panicked man sharply. “Who exactly?”
“I think you already know." he said, sitting down on the side of the bed.
"You goddamn idiot."
"They cornered and beat me! What did you expect me to do?"
"Follow our agreement that we could lie low here." Boothill stated, glaring at the doctor as he reloaded his revolver.
"I had only made that agreement with you, friend, not them.” he replied, gesturing a hand toward you. “Regardless, the law knows by now that wherever one of you goes the other will follow.”
“And this time you’ll be with us.” you sighed, lifting your hand for him to stand up.
Grabbing the man’s right arm, you brought it behind his back, placing your other hand on his left shoulder. Guiding him down the stairs as Boothill followed, you walked to the hitches Thornton had built at his rear door.
Whistles came down the alley as you ordered him to sit on the back of your horse. After he finished grumbling, you mounted and began riding off to the left as Boothill went right.
Handing him a spare rifle from your horse, you pulled two revolvers from your gun belt.
“I apologize, but I do not know how to use one of these.” he shared, holding the weapon awkwardly.
“You’re hopeless, doctor.”
Trading with him, you aimed the rifle at one of the lawmen approaching you.
“Just pull down the hammer and shoot at them until the chambers are empty. Don’t bother reloading, we’ll be out of here by then.”
He nodded before turning his head back, covering the rear as you winded down stone streets, doing your best to avoid bringing citizens into the fray. You caught a glimpse of black and white disappearing around a corner – a road that led to the train tracks from what you could recall. Pulling the reins to the right, you moved to follow, shooting at one of his pursuers before dodging the fallen body.
Droplets flicked against your boots, leading the doctor to groan at his dirtied shoes. Broken glass nearby signified it was probably some discarded liquor.
A horn sounded from your right, accelerating the rushing sound in your ears. One of Thornton’s hands gripped onto your shoulder tightly as you sped up, crossing before the train daringly.
Pausing on the other side of the tracks, you watched cautiously for any other lawmen. Boothill came up next to you, eyes analyzing your figure before they followed your gaze.
“I swear the two of you are going to get me killed.”
“You’ll be lucky if I don’t do it myself after the shit you’ve pulled.” you spat, securing your rifle back against your horse.
“Need I remind you I had no other choice.” he retorted, handing you back the revolvers.
“You sold us out after three hits, doctor, that’s something that would get you a hole in your forehead with anyone else.”
“I only told them where you were, dear, not him.”
You pointed one of the guns behind you against the side of his skull, disregarding if it was empty or not.
“Do you think that’s somethin’ you should really be saying to me? For as much tinkering as you do, and as many people as you claim to help, I don’t think you’re very bright. If you were, you wouldn’t have given us up, and you would watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me. Now, tell me you can understand that at least, doctor.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now you best stay quiet.”
“Alright.”
Putting the gun back into its holster at your side, your focus returned to Boothill.
“Are we still going north?”
“I don’t see why not.” he replied, shifting slightly in his saddle.
“Then let’s go – this train is almost over.”
—
The town of Iris Creek was quaint, fresh air gliding over land of dying grass. A few small flowers grew along the trails, blossoms of deep violet running up their stems. Your stresses slowly quelled as the peaceful atmosphere set in.
At least until you had to sort out Thornton's situation.
Boothill had left for the saloon not long ago, attempting to find what information about Walker he could. In his absence, you would be taking the well-dressed man to the hotel.
Getting the room was a simple affair, so was the walk to where he would stay. It seemed odd that you received no second glances, but it was a welcome change.
Entering his room, the doctor finally spoke, "What do you think of him?"
"Pardon?"
"Boothill."
He sat in a chair right before a plain wooden desk, crossing one leg over the other.
"I care for him very deeply, but I think you could figure that out already. ”
"Would seeing him in pain hurt you, then?"
"What exactly are you trying to say, Thornton?"
"Nothing at all, just conjecture." He responded, hands coming up defensively before returning to his lap.
"I still have half a mind to kill you."
"Always so crude with me," he shook his head, "If you do decide to murder me, you might as well do the same to Boothill. Nobody else in this world understands his inner workings like I do. If I'm dead, there will be no one left to repair him if something goes awry. He's already tried before himself and landed at the same conclusion."
~
In the dim lighting of your shared room, your fingers carded through Boothill's newly cleaned hair. The noise from the saloon below reverberated upward, but it faded into nothing as warm lips found your neck.
"What did you find?" you questioned, quiet in the tranquility of the moment.
"There's supposed to be a whole bunch of Walker's a bit further up in the mountains. By Whitetail Hill."
"Well, that's good. Leave at dawn and we could make it there by early afternoon."
"My thoughts exactly."
A group of cheers from below filled the silence. Sharp edges nipped at the same spot of your neck, drawing a short wince from you. It was soothed by a soft tongue licking across the area as cool fingertips traced the other side of your neck.
You began to turn your head in his direction before those same fingers brought your chin down. Rough lips met yours in a rare instance of gentleness, something that reminded you of calm before a storm.
—
PART IV - Death, the Range's Old Friend
Dust kicked up from underneath the gravel path as you brought your horses to an abrupt stop. A figure rest in the middle of the road, bloodied claw marks running down their front. They coughed, red splattering back against their cheeks.
“Mercy… mercy, please.”
A scarlet covered bandana slipped from their pocket, bits of green peeking out from beneath. You cocked your gun at them before speaking.
“I’ll grant you your wish after you answer some questions. Deal?”
“Yes, yes.”
“You were coming from the area of Whitetail Hill, correct?”
They nodded weakly.
“Where specifically?” Boothill asked, looking around the surrounding forest – likely watching for the animal that attacked them.
“Copperhead Mine.”
A breeze blew through the trees, carrying an odd and empty whistle. A bang interrupted the cryptic melody as the Walker’s plea was granted. The slow movement of hooves followed shortly after, as you maneuvered around them.
“What do you think we’re headed into?” you wondered, meeting Boothill’s eyes.
“Nothin’ good, I can tell you that much.”
“How many’ll be there?”
“I can’t say. The bartender said upwards of 20.”
“Will we be able to take them?” you picked up the pace, looking over the small cliff to your left.
“After all this time, you still doubt us.” he chuckled, matching your speed.
“It’s better to stay realistic.”
“You have me with you, anything we do is realistic.”
You sighed, as the clouds drifted across the blue noon sky. “I suppose I just want you to look after yourself more.”
He waited an instant before responding, features full of sincerity. “I know you care about me, more than I had ever thought I would receive. But I’m not going anywhere – there’s nothin’ in this world that could kill me anymore.”
—
The ominous tune of the wind persisted, some symphony of nature that could only serve to unnerve you. A shiver went down your spine as you reached a viewpoint of the mine, a chill seeping in beneath your clothes. Dismounting, you pat the neck of your horse, trying to steel yourself before the confrontation.
You nodded at Boothill, before leaving first down to the camp. Dry grass crackled under your steps, before the crunch of gravel came instead. The sound alerted who you assumed to be the leader of the group, a scarred eye looking over you in suspicion before he spoke.
“What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“I was in Iris Creek yesterday, askin’ around about any jobs. They said you’d need some more hands out here.”
“Really now? Who exactly told you that?”
“The bartender at the saloon.”
“Which saloon?”
“There’s only one in town, friend.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Quite so.”
He glanced back at a set of boxes, before making eye contact with one of the members. You drew your revolvers, shooting at two of the people before ducking behind a pair of barrels. Boothill emerged from behind one of their tents, blood already coating his cheek.
He was always brash in his ways, usually coming in guns blazing unless the plan said otherwise. Even then, there was no safe bet that he would follow it. Today was a lucky day, you supposed.
Splinters of wood broke off in your direction, falling over the edge of your arm and over a dark red stain you had yet to notice. Aiming around the side, you fired at one's eyes and another's cheek from where they hid. A second pair hit two plainly in the head, one of their bullets going astray into the rock by the mine entrance.
A strong grip wrapped around your ankle, pulling you backward through twig-like bushes. You were met with the same scarred left eye when the dust cleared – a gaze that spoke murder pinning you down. A fist met the side of your face, brute pain emerging afterward. He went again but was met with your right arm. He tried your left side, and you let him get a hit in as you cautiously unsheathed your knife. With a block to another hit, you slashed your knife across his chest. It was the easiest thing to do in this position, and he backed off of you slightly to stare down at the scarlet seeping into the edges of his cut shirt.
A tight hold turned him over, leaving you above him. The sharp tip of the knife pointed right under his chin as you started your interrogation.
“Where’s Lloyd?”
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” he spat.
Taking the blade, you punctured along the edge of his right eye. He screamed as crude fluid bursted against your sleeves, running down the side of his face as you twisted it.
“I’m not fuckin’ around with you! Where is Lloyd Walker?”
“In- in Thatcher!”
“That’s it? You sure there ain’t anything else you want to tell me?” you questioned, drawing the knife from his eye. Another scream came before the tip of the blade returned to his chin, dragging down to his sternum.
“He’s hidin’ out with somebody. They’re in bed together, doing some real shady business. Patrick Arrington – that’s the guy you want to meet with! He’s in the oil business, and real paranoid to boot.”
“Any tips you want to share before I’m finished with you?”
He licked his lips, panicked and steadily bleeding. “Find Ef. I… I met her at a theater once. She loves it there, lights up the minute the curtain rises.”
“Does she have a full name?”
“I don’t know it.”
“Fine, then. Keep your secrets.”
“I’m not lyin’! She never told me!”
“Doesn’t matter anymore.”
The blade plunged in his throat forcibly, the near frightening sensation of shattering bone reverberating to the hilt of the knife. A dry wheeze left his lips as you stood up, pulling the weapon back out.
A low whistle, one that you could recall anywhere by now, came from behind you. Boothill walked up, looking down at the body.
“Did you get anythin’ out of him?”
“Plenty. What do you think of a trip to the capital?”
He smiled, sharp with excitement and thrill. “Sounds like a lovely time to me.”
—
PART V - Ballad of the Dead and Alive
It had been years since you last set foot in Thatcher. The city had become strikingly more commercialized, with a shop, service, or office on every corner. Your boots had been left behind at the hotel room, exchanged earlier after a trip to the tailor’s for something more formal.
Wood doors with decorated glass opened as you walked into the lobby, Boothill following behind.
“Tickets for two, please.” you smiled, leaning against the front counter.
“Door to your left.” the taker replied, sliding the slips underneath the barricade.
With a tip of his new hat, Boothill thanked them before heading through to the hallway. It was plain black, something simple yet classy per recommendation of the tailor. He had outright refused their first suggestion of a top hat – slight disgust on his face as he said that would never be his style.
“Guess I finally got that theater date.” he chuckled, opening the double doors to reveal a lit stage.
“I suppose you did.” you replied, taking his hand and going to find your seats.
A narrator stood in front of the curtain, reciting the introduction to a play. Now sitting in the second row, you and Boothill waited patiently for the show to begin.
“‘Do not plague thyself with vexatious matters. Live unshackled and wander from this day forth.’ Thus, did the young Lady Rena commence her journey.”
A beautiful woman walked out to center stage, clothed in a green silk dress. A wide-brimmed hat of the same color rested on her head, feathers rising from the right side that were held under a silk brim. Lavender sprigs and violets emerged from the left, wrapping around to sit delicately on the front.
A gasp came from your right, bringing your gaze away from the show. Brown hair, pinned and curled, came into view before an apologetic expression.
“I’m sorry, I just love to see how the characters dress.”
“It’s alright, you didn’t bother me at all.”
“Oh, well I’m glad.” she smiled, then looked back to the stage.
As the play continued on, your gaze bounced between the actors and the spectator next to you. She seemed to beam at the performance, her eyes watching every detail closely even if she noticed your attention on her. It wasn’t until the brief break before the climax that she turned back to you.
She didn’t say a word for a minute or two, simply looking over your features.
“Have you ever thought about acting?”
“It’s never crossed my mind before.”
“It just seems like you have a knack for it.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I can’t really say, it’s just a feeling. I have a… friend that reminds me of you. She’s been up on the stage there all night. She acts so well, and you can tell she really loves it despite her always telling me it’s just a job.”
“And what about you?”
She paused, seeming to briefly sink into herself. “Can I trust you with a little secret?”
“Of course.”
She smiled smally, “I actually wrote this play. When my work day was over, I’d go up to my room and spend a couple hours jotting it all down. My boss is a miserable man – it’s a pleasant break from him.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely to see it brought to life, then.”
“It’s my biggest achievement so far, and nobody besides you knows the truth behind it.” Sincerity took over her face, a beat passing between you before she spoke. “So, it’s only fair that you share your truth with me. Who are the two of you?”
A hand came to rest on your shoulder as the other was held out across your front, waiting for a shake.
“You can call me Boothill, Ef.”
Her face looked surprised, as if she had possibly seen him somewhere.
“We were preparing to do business with your boss, Patrick Arrington, correct?” he continued.
“Yes.” she replied curtly. “He’s been having me carry around something for you as a matter of fact.”
She placed an envelope in Boothill’s open hand. He turned it over between his fingers, taking a moment to look at the wax seal. With a quick rip, it opened, revealing tight cursive on the parchment. It was an invitation to a dinner in two nights time. Arrington’s signature sprawled over the bottom half of the paper, bold in comparison to his previous handwriting. He spoke of knowing Boothill was in town, likely trying to seek him out. Instead, he wanted them to meet and have a discussion over steak. He also extended the invite to you, his “hell-raising partner”.
If Arrington and Walker wanted a confrontation, they would get it.
“I hope the two of you will entertain his offer. Let us enjoy the rest of my play, though. We can be friends for this evening at the very least.”
—
Patrick Arrington's house reflected his wealth. Dark colors were covered by intricate wood detailings, highlighted well with lamps. The butler guided you and Boothill into the dining room, revealing a lengthy table covered in candles and plates. The men of the hour waited patiently, Patrick at the head of the table with a glass of wine and Lloyd to his right, a lit cigarette resting between his lips as he inspected the utensils.
They weren't very intimidating to say the least.
"Glad you could join us," Lloyd welcomed, a silver steak knife twirling around in his hand. "I've been waitin' to see you again for years, been pretty boring without your games." He pointed said knife at Boothill.
Patrick's weathered eyes met yours as he gestured for you to sit at his left. You strode to the cushioned chair, a foreboding sense creeping in as you pulled it out.
"You can take the seat opposite to me, Mr. Blackwell."
His features appeared defiant before you glared at him. It would be best to follow his commands. A sharp exhale left him as he sat down, leaning casually.
A new butler came in, wine bottle in hand. He poured for the two of you before being dismissed.
Swirling his topped up glass, Patrick leveled his gaze onto Boothill. "I want to make you an offer."
"Ain't that the nature of business." he chuckled.
“Indeed.”
Seared steaks made their way onto the table as Arrington shared his proposal.
“You may take Walker’s life, so long as I take theirs.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard him, boy.”
The room remained tense as your hands froze, a slight cut staying in the meat at your idleness.
“I’m willin’ to… succumb to your revenge,” Lloyd waved his hands around dramatically, “Let you claim my bounty – just after someone is exchanged for me.”
“You think I would ever agree to that?”
“Well, let’s just say it is not so much an agreement as it would be a reward.” Patrick smiled, placing his fork on a cloth gently.
A line of cold steel rested against your throat. You set down your silverware, raising your hands and leaning back.
“I didn’t do nothin’ to you, Mr. Arrington.” you reasoned.
“Maybe not in your eyes. A debt is owed to me, however, and it must be repaid. Your father stole my weapons, robbed my men, and ruined my oil! He was scum, and it seems you are too.”
“Any issues you had with him aren't my problem.”
“The knife to your throat begs otherwise, dear.”
“You started this.”
“No, I did not. Your friend here began his feud with Mr. Walker years ago. That is the true reason why the both of you are here tonight. I am simply ending a personal matter at the same time.”
“What’ll it be, Jesse?” Lloyd asked, an excited smile growing on his face.
You met Boothill’s stare, watching the gears turn in his mind. His gaze drifted upward, past yours and to the person behind you. Their grip tightened on the hilt.
“I’m gonna have to decline.”
Walker laughed as Arrington’s face went stoic.
“So be it.” a familiar voice spoke.
The knife formerly held to your neck flew into Patrick’s right shoulder. With the room still surprised, you flipped the dining table with help from your near-executioner. Plates clattered onto the floor surrounding Lloyd, the candles beginning to eat away at the rug.
~
“Where do you think you’re going, you piece of shit!”
You watched, revolver in hand, as Ef strode angrily to an escaping Patrick. He gripped his shoulder, walking out and down the hall as fast as he could. She followed suit, chasing and pinning him down easily. The click of your dress shoes echoed over the wood floor as you came behind her, witnessing her tackle him to the ground before pulling the knife from him. She threw it to the side, choosing to instead beat him as hard as she could while curses fell from her tinted lips. You leaned back against the wall, toying with the chamber of your gun. You watched as it spun, just one bullet sat inside.
With a huff, Ef rose from Patrick’s bloodied body, scarlet covering her teal dress.
“Do with him as you please. I’ve had enough of him for eternity.”
She then turned down the hall, the sound of ascending steps coming shortly after.
You came to stand right next to Arrington’s head, pressing your left heel down on his shoulder. He groaned, trying to twist out of the situation.
“I have a special hatred for rich filth like you.”
Two clicks of the hammer – a blank.
“Always walking around like you own the place.”
Another blank.
“Throwing money at everything you can – money that you made from stealing what belongs to others.”
Blank.
“And you’re so much better than me? Look at what you’re doing right now.” he whispered out, eyes growing unfocussed.
“We might be bad people, but at least we’re honest. I think liars like you will suffer a worse fate than us. You’ve got no honor, no respect, left in you. Sold it all away for what? So you could feel some power? Some control? We all die the same, Patrick. This wealth’ll mean nothin’ in the end. Keeping it all to yourself only makes people resent you more. We struggle everyday, only ever dreaming of what you have and take for granted everyday. You deserve nothing that you have in this world if all you do is abuse it. Save whatever dignity you have left for hell, Arrington. You’re gonna need it.”
A shot fired as his mouth opened, leaving red to splatter out from the proximity. You leaned down, taking his pocket watch and dangling it in front of you. It was gold, polished, and engraved – an item that could fetch a high price. You shoved it in your own pocket as you left his body, searching for the stairs Ef had gone up.
~
Flames caught on the curtains as Boothill waited in a standoff with Lloyd. Neither uttered a word as they waited, staring each other down. Crackles came from the walls, the flames illuminating the space with harsh glares. Walker drew his old pistol, aiming quickly and preparing to fire. Blood flowed from his arm not a second later, three shots ringing out in the burning dining room.
A swift kick crossed his face a moment later, something sharp cutting down it. Despite his pain and lack of clear vision, he took one of the scalding candlesticks and threw it in front of him. His hand came to hold his face, sighing.
“If you want to kill me Jesse, do it already.”
The cold barrel of a gun met the back of his neck, one click reaching his ears.
“Givin’ up that easily! Really now?”
“I’d rather die than try and make it out of here.”
A set of curtain rods fell to the floor before Boothill spoke, “ I’m gonna take my time with you, then. See if you can handle what you put me through.”
~
Whistles sounded through the courtyard as lawmen slowly encroached the property. A pair of satchels rested full over your shoulder, one similar sitting on Effie’s horse. They were bulked with stolen bonds, jewels, and anything else you could get your hands on.
“I suppose this is farewell.” she exhaled.
“For now, at least. If you’re going down a road like ours, I think we’ll cross paths again.”
“I hope so.”
“Go be with your friend.” you smiled, winking and patting her horse as she mounted it. “And thank you for the help. This wouldn’t have worked out if it weren’t for your decision.”
“You flatter me. But you’re welcome anyway.”
She pulled a poppy from her hat, handing it down to you. With exchanged nods, she rode off around the back, leaving you to the steps of Patrick’s burning house.
The front door burst open as Boothill kicked at it, stepping out as smoke started billowing from the building. You had every confidence in his capabilities, but you still found yourself in his arms. Crimson stained his cheeks, seeping into your palms as you brought his face closer to your view.
“How are you?”
“A little worse for wear, but if you kiss me, I just might be alright.”
“That can wait, cowboy. For now, we’d best get out of here.”
—
Epilogue
The sun beamed down brightly, casting a hazy glow over the river. Morning light was always lovely at times like this, and the sound of rushing water provided a welcome sense of relief. A soft breeze blew through the tree branches above you, ruffling the papers in Boothill's hands as well.
His head rested on your thighs, leaning back and reading them over with a smile. A sketch replaced your photo now, headed by text that read: “Reward for the capture, dead or alive, of __ __. The murderer of Patrick Arrington, they are still at large in Kearny County.”
“Look who made it big.” he chuckled.
“Think they’ll have a stage ready for me next time we visit?”
“If that stage is the gallows, then I’m sure.”
You laughed, leaning back against rough bark.
“Meanwhile I only got an extra $500! Can’t believe those lovely lawmen.” he grumbled, ripping them in half.
You brushed your palm over his forehead, shifting his hair back.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Fingertips brushed down his cheek, before curling under his jaw and tilting his head in your direction. Silver and red eyes met yours, simmering down to a rare gentleness. He stared at you for a moment, no vibrant expression or words leaving him. Peaceful – that’s what he was.
“Where do you want to go next?” you asked, thumb tracing along his cheekbone.
“I think we’ll just keep ridin’, stop where we want and see where the trail ends.”
“Take some jobs here and there, try to make some money.”
“Sounds nice.”
You hummed as Boothill turned his head back to the river, sighing toward the low reeds.
“Would you ever want to have a farm again?”
He rested quietly before replying, “No, but I wouldn’t be against working on one every now and then.”
“You’ll have to show me the ropes, though.”
“Course. There’s plenty more I could show you too.”
“Like?”
“Anythin’ you can imagine.”
“What a magician you are.”
“You flatter me, sugar.”
“Gettin’ a little shy on me, are you?”
“Not at all.”
He leaned up on his right hand, the left coming to the side of your neck. Slightly rough lips met yours challengingly, as if lovingly proving a point. Cold metal was removed from your neck, fingertips running along your throat teasingly before coming up to tug down the hat on your head.
“Stealin’ my moves now, cowboy?”
“You learned them from me first.” he chuckled, “Just one of our many games, right?”
#coff writes for hsr 🍾#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#hsr au#hsr fanfic#hsr boothill#honkai star rail boothill#hsr boothill x reader
77 notes
·
View notes
Note
I had an idea for your speedrun!Wild story: Wild goes through a science phase where he obsessed with learning how to interact with the environment: like what things are magnetic? What things burn well in fire? Does it sink or does it float? What things explode? What happens if I put it in soup? And so on, annoying, scaring, and giving the rest of the Chain headaches, hahaha! (I can see Wind having a blast with this too.)
Ooo I love this, in the 2nd chapter(which I finished the rough draft of literally today) I have a small bit about Wild’s understanding of the sheikah slate, which is bare minimum bar is on the floor. I can definitely pull the energy of ‘what it do?’ into him figuring out how the whole thing actually works, much to the dismay of everyone around him, into later chapters 😂
#Wild exists to terrorize the others through the act of living#speedrun at your own risk#linked universe wild#lu wild#linked universe#ani replies#speed run wild au
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Glasses
(Incredibles au)
...
“They’re back!”
At Wind’s shout, Wild shot up and bolted outside to the car pulling into their driveway, slightly using his speed even though he wasn’t supposed to. Four didn’t even have time to tell him to wait before his older brother was hanging off Twilight’s arm and shaking him.
Four felt a flash of annoyance as Wind ran ahead of him as well, but he stuffed it down and ran out to join them, and arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Wind and Wild’s begging.
“Where is it Twi? I want to see your photo! Warriors said they always look bad, I want to see! Let me see it!” they hounded simultaneously, but Twilight only brushed Wild’s hand off his arm with a morose look.
“I didn’t get it.”
Wild stopped in his tracks, and Four and Wind looked at each other, then back at Twilight.
“You... you didn’t get it? Why? How?” Wild said incredulously. “It’s a learner’s permit! They’re like, impossible not to get!”
“How did that happen?” Four asked in confusion.
“Apparently I can’t see well enough to drive,” Twilight mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets. “They said I have to get glasses if I want one.”
“Glasses?!”
Twilight nodded glumly, and his brothers looked at him in disbelief.
“There’s no way you need glasses, your vision is great!” Four said with no small indignation on his brother’s behalf, and Twilight just sighed.
“Apparently it’s not good enough to pass the vision test for driving,” he said as Time also got out of the car. “I have to get them, or no learner’s permit.”
“But that’s not fair!” Wind cried, and Time put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s to keep the roads safe, Wind. You wouldn’t want someone who could barely see driving a car next to you, would you?” their father asked, and Wind relented a little.
“...okay, I guess not. But Twi can see fine! He’s never had trouble with looking at stuff!”
“I just barely didn’t pass,” Twilight grumbled. “I swear that lady had it out for me, I think she made the pictures blurrier on purpose.”
“Well we’ll see when we take you in for a proper eye appointment,” Time sighed, and Twilight nodded, still looking disappointed. Their father went inside, and Four watched as Twilight followed him, shoulders slumped and ears drooping.
“Poor Twi,” Wild said, shaking his head in disbelief. Four had to agree.
What a way to find out you needed glasses. And how could Twilight need glasses anyway? His vision was fine!
...then again, now that Four was thinking about it, sometimes Twilight did have some trouble seeing farther away stuff...
Well. It was still unfair.
“Well maybe he won’t actually need them,” Wind piped up. “He said the lady there didn’t like him, right? Maybe she was exaggerating, and when he goes to the eye doctor there won’t be anything wrong!”
“Maybe,” Four said doubtfully.
“Well... I’m gonna go see if Mom has cake ingredients,” Wild said as he began to walk back in the house. “Cake makes everything better.”
“Better make it carrot cake,” Wind said as he followed him. “It’ll help with Twi’s eyes.”
Four raised an eyebrow. “Wind, that’s not a real thing.”
“Well it might be, you never know!”
(...)
A week later, the three of them were once again waiting at the window when Twilight got out of the car, and Wild ran to greet him, Wind and Four trailing behind. This time though, Twilight didn’t even look at any of them, brushing past Wild and turning into a wolf the moment he was safely inside.
“Uh oh,” Four said, and they all looked at their father as he got out of the car.
Time wordlessly held up a glasses case.
“Oh no, poor Twi,” Wind moaned, and Wild looked back at the house. “The carrot cake didn’t work!”
“Wind you didn’t seriously think that was going to help, did you?” Four asked as he raised an eyebrow, and Wind shrugged.
“Well I was hoping for Twilight’s sake.”
“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Wild said, but his father snagged his shirt before he could run off, shaking his head.
“Not right now, Wild, he’s not in the best mood. You can talk to him later,” Time said. “Give him some space for now.”
Wild nodded, and Time released his shirt, Four hearing him let out a sigh. Then he walked into the house, probably to tell their mother about the glasses. Legend scooted past him as he walked in, and joined his brothers on the lawn, scratching at his hat.
“I’m guessing by the grumpy wolf in our living room that Twilight didn’t have a good time at the eye doctor?” he asked.
“He got glasses,” Wind reported solemnly, and Legend blinked.
“...That’s all? Sheesh, you’d think he was going blind or something the way he looked at me and ‘rule. Why’s he so upset? They’re just glasses.”
“Are you kidding? Do you remember back when that one guy in Twi’s class got glasses? Everybody teased him, you wouldn’t want to be called four-eyes all the time, would you?” Wild said, then looked at Four. “No offense.”
Four shrugged, unbothered by the phrase (it wasn’t like he had glasses), and Legend raised an eyebrow. “But I thought he just has them for driving, he won’t even need them at school.”
“Unless his eyesight gets worse,” Four pointed out, and Wind elbowed him. “Ow, just sayin’.”
Four rubbed his side as they all began to trail back inside, and Wild scratched his head thoughtfully. “What I don’t get is that I thought wolves had good eyesight,” he said, looking confused. “How does Twilight need glasses if that’s true?”
Four perked up. “Well, they have good all-around vision, but their distance vision isn’t as good as Hylians. They can see movement pretty far away, but not clear details, plus the colors are a bit more muted then what we see,” he rattled off, and his brothers all stared at him. Four coughed. “...I got a wolf book from the library the other week.”
“Well anyway, I bet he’ll get used to the glasses,” Legend shrugged as he kicked his shoes off and walked away. “I’m just not looking forward to him being all mopey in the meantime though.”
A few of them nodded in agreement, and Four peeked into the living room. Twilight was flopped on the floor with his head sitting on his paws, and when he noticed Four looking, he got up and plodded away, tail drooping.
His brothers all watched him pad away, then looked at each other.
“...You’d better make another cake, Wild.”
(...)
Nobody saw much of Twilight the rest of the day, though Four tried to search him out a few times. He obviously wasn’t in the mood to be consoled, and Four went to bed that night wondering if he could do anything to help him.
He couldn’t take away Twilight’s glasses, but there had to be something he could do.
But what?
When Four woke up the next morning he hadn’t had any brilliant ideas, but went he into the bathroom, he found Twilight staring at himself in the mirror, a pair of glasses on his face.
Four froze, then hesitantly walked forward, studying his brother. Twilight flicked an ear at the sound of his footsteps, but didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at himself.
“Morning Twi,” Four ventured, leaning on the counter.
“Mornin’,” Twilight replied distantly, still staring at his reflection.
Four studied him for a second in silence, a bit struck at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror. It was still Twilight, but the glasses changed his appearance a fair amount. Having the frames on his face made Twilight look a little odd already, but he also looked... older, somehow, like he was an adult or something.
...Four wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“You’re trying on your glasses, huh?” Four asked after a minute, and Twilight nodded.
“Yeah. The doctor said I should wear them around so I’m used to them before I try and get my learner’s again or anything.”
“Well they look fine to me,” Four said, and Twilight gave him a half-smile.
“Thanks Smithy,” he said as Wild walked in, their other brother pausing as he grabbed his toothbrush.
“Whoa, weird. They make you look older,” Wild said, tilting his head and staring. “Like... kinda like Dad? But with glasses.”
“Dad with glasses. Thanks Wild,” Twilight snorted, but he didn’t look too bothered. Maybe he’s feeling better about them?
“Well what did you want me to say? That you look like a nerd?” Wild asked, and Twilight gave him a flat look.
“No, actually. Thanks.”
“Well he does kinda look like a nerd,” Legend said as he wandered in, drawn by the sound of their conversation. “A nice nerd. The kind that knows how to do calculus but still cries at baby birds— ack!”
While Legend was speaking, Twilight had reached over and grabbed him.
Four ducked out of the way while Legend tried to escape, and Wild laughed as Twilight noogied his brother, somehow managing to make Legend’s bedhead even messier.
“Alright alright stoppit! I take it back, you don’t look like a nerd!” Legend squawked, and Twilight released him, dusting his hands off. Legend grumpily smoothed his hair down, then smirked a little. “...they do make you look like some old dusty professor though.”
Twilight grabbed at him again, but Legend ducked and turned invisible, laughter and rapid footsteps quickly retreating from the room. Twilight huffed, and as he looked back at Wild and Four, Wild quickly muffled his laughter.
“Ah whatever, go ahead and laugh,” Twilight said with an eye roll. “I know they make me look dorky.”
Four frowned at the hint of bitterness in his voice. Okay, so maybe he isn’t feeling better about them after all. “I don’t think they make you look dorky,” he defended, and Wild nodded, starting in on brushing his teeth.
“I fink they make youwook fmart,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “Wike a fwibrarian or somefwin.”
“Like a Librarian. Right. Just the look I want,” Twilight sighed, and he looked at himself in the mirror again.
Wild finished brushing and spat, and Four caught Twilight’s sleeve, making sure he was looking.
“Don’t listen to Legend, he’s just being dumb,” Four said. “And Wild. I think the glasses look nice, they don’t make you look bad.”
“Hey, I never said they looked bad,” Wild defended, and Twilight snorted.
“You kinda implied it.”
“Okay well maybe I did, but I wasn’t trying to.” Twilight still looked unimpressed. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you; if anyone at school gives you trouble, I’ll beat them up,” Wild said with a grin as he pounded his fist into his palm.
“No, nope, no fights at school,” Twilight said, but there was a faint smile on his face. “I appreciate the thought, though. Thanks Wild. And you too, Four.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Wild said with some finger guns, though the effect was a bit ruined by the toothpaste on his chin. Then he zipped off, and Twilight and Four were left alone again.
Twilight glanced at the mirror and his smile fell a bit, and Four frowned. “Hey Twi?”
“Yeah?” his older brother asked, and Four nudged him.
“I think you look nice. For real. The glasses make you look... mature. Smart,” Four said. “And I’d split now and tell you with four people except Red would probably cry and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying.”
Twilight chuckled, and gave his hair a bit of a ruffle. “No worries. Thanks Four.”
Four smiled. “You’re welcome.”
The two of them finished in the bathroom then, Four still keeping an eye on Twilight. He still didn’t seem too happy about the glasses, giving his reflection an uneasy look as they left the bathroom, but at least he seemed more cheery overall as they went downstairs. That was a win in Four’s book.
And if anyone at school did give Twilight any flack about the glasses... well.
Maybe Wild’s idea wasn’t such a bad one.
#set sometime after the movie-ish#linkeduniverse#linked universe#incredibles au#lu twilight#lu four#lu Wild#linked universe fic#incredibles au fic#writing from the floor#also#based somewhat off a true story#my poor sister XD#anyways I did my research on wolf vision but I apologize if the stuff here is incorrect#looking up ‘are wolves nearsighted’ didn’t get many results unfortunately
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
Insomnia AU
I delayed the moment for a long time and did not dare to show you my ideas of my random concept of the near future (after 20 years) of the hedgehog caste...
Attention! There is a lot of text at the bottom :D
Please don't judge me! I initially took references from Pinterest to learn how to draw hedgehogs and thereby borrowed some of the chips from another artist. In the future, I will think about how I can interpret the character design in my own way.
Nevertheless, the main idea of my concept is events 20 years later, Sonic's insomnia, adult problems for grown-up characters.
Sonic
Sonic has now become wiser, more careful. He's more sentimental. He protects the younger generation from the mistakes that he once made.
Due to insomnia, he is now forced to do night runs in order to fall asleep at least from overwork. He tries not to bother anyone with his problems.
Shadow...
Shadow is missing. For all these 20 years, no one knew where he was. But he was on the planet Black Arms. Time goes a little differently on this planet, so he didn't notice how 20 years had passed on Earth.
During this time, he received a third eye and a special live weapon that shoots not quite standard cartridges - instead of a trigger, there is a special needle on the pistol that pierces Shadow's finger and contacts his blood.
And he will also put a fifth ring on his neck, because it turns out that the current four rings are not enough to restrain his power.
(I'm a bad screenwriter... I'm thinking that Shadow urgently evacuated from the planet Black Arms on a mini-shuttle, which collapsed in the Earth's atmosphere, causing the black hedgehog himself to fall somewhere in the area where Sonic mostly lives. It's a wild coincidence that Sonic will find him on the night of his birthday.)
Tails
Tails will probably be taller than Sonic. He won't be able to fly anymore-the tails just won't lift him into the air with that weight. However, he is still able to develop speed on the surface - to do this, he will stand on quads and start spinning his tails behind him.
(I'm thinking about changing Tails' design a bit...)
Knuckles
Echidna is still the keeper of the Master Emerald. During these 20 years of loneliness, he has managed to forget how to speak (Or now he speaks so little that it may seem as if he does not know how to speak).
There are no special changes in the design...
Eggman will retire, and Metal Sonic will take his place.
I think that's all, thanks for reading!
You can share your opinion and ideas in the comments, I will pay attention to everyone :b
#drawing#digital art#sketch#art#sketch art#digital#traditional art#sonic the hedgehog#sth#sth au#au#Insomnia AU#sth Insomnia AU#shadow the ultimate lifeform#shadow#shadow the hedgehog#sonic#tails#miles tails prower#tails the fox#knuckles#knuckles the echidna#metal sonic#eggman
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can we have more of the selkie au please?
are there fantasy books in the lighthouse? Did they see seal!Pac after the coat incident? Is Fit hunting an imaginary poachers on the island?
you absolutely can!!
They don't see Pac - human or seal - for a few days after the incident. During those few days, Fit very much notices the absence of his usual evening journaling buddy, and he's very much not happy about it. He scours the island in his free time looking for traces of whatever poacher is squatting there, but he can't find anything. He also notices Pac's absence, and by the 3rd day he's starting to come to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only logical explanation he can think of for his strange behavior, and the lack or evidence for any other people on the island, is that Pac must be the poacher he's looking for. He doesn't want to believe it, because Pac is so nice and he's always seemed to really like the seals (maybe even more so than him or Ramon) when they've been around them together, but he just doesn't know what else it could possibly be. Then right as he's resigned himself to confronting him about it, and begun to prepare for the ordeal of filing a report against his friend, he finds his furry friend waiting for him on it's usual rocks like nothing happened.
Fit spends a good few minutes just gaping at it, completely frozen - the fucking thing has the gall to look confused, tilting it's head at him like his son wasn't sobbing over it's severed skin just a few days ago. Even after the initial shock passes and he manages to drag himself out of his stupor and onto his own rock, he can't find any words to speak or to write; he just keeps staring at it in complete puzzlement. It stares back at him, it's gaze flicking curiously to the blank page in front of him every so often almost. After what feels like an eternity it huffs and flops over on it's side, seemingly having decided that it would rather nap than continue their stare-off. Fit begins his journal entry in uneasy silence, trying his best to let the scratching of the pencil on the page distract him from the anomaly next to him. Unfortunately, said anomaly doesn't tolerate the cold shoulder for long before snorting offendedly at him.
"What?" Fit raises an eyebrow at it. There's a beat before it snorts again, slapping it's front flippers loudly against the wet rocks. "You- oh, what, you want me to talk to you? Is that it?" It grunts softly. Fit blinks, his mouth opening and closing around words that don't come. "I mean I- I don't really uh. I mean, I'm just kinda speechless right now." And ok, that's an understatement - he feels completely disoriented, his entire world having been flipped on its head. This seal was dead, it had to have been, that was the only possible explanation for the way everything had lined up. Except apparently it wasn't, because the seal was alive and it was looking straight into his eyes with that disturbingly human intelligence shining through its own. As the gears in his head start turning, trying valiantly to come up with something to say, some pieces start to fall into place.
The pelt, Pac's freak-out and subsequent disappearance, the seal acting like someone's lost pet and not a wild predator, Pac having no traceable presence on the island but appearing every day, both of them missing a limb - little dots swimming around in his head, moving too quickly for him to connect, forming a fragment of something that Fit doesn't think he could handle knowing in full. He nearly slips and breaks his neck in his mad scramble off of his perch, startling the seal - or whatever this thing was. He ignores it's concerned cry and backs away slowly, a dizzying dread creeping slowly over him as his attempts to think of any logical explanation for the ever-growing pile of mysteries come up completely empty.
Various half-formed theories run through his mind as he speeds through the short walk back to the cabin: Was the seal Pac's pet? Was it some robotic creation of his? Did he kill it and do some fucked up death magic on it? Was he the seal? Was he a shape shifter, or- or some kind of hypnotist? Had the whole thing just been an illusion? A dream? Was Fit finally going insane?
Yeah, that's gotta be it he thought as he made his way through the door, being sure to close it quietly so as to not wake Ramon. I've finally fucking lost it. There was no way Pac was - whatever it was that Fit's psyche was convinced he was. That seal was a normal, if weirdly friendly seal, and there was a completely rational explanation for everything that Fit was just too dumb to catch onto. Pac was probably just freaked out by the implication of the seal's death, and maybe the pelt had just been an incredibly convincing fake. Yeah, that was it, definitely. Fit pointedly ignored the voices in his head that screamed all of the ways that that didn't make any sense as he stumbled his way through his nightly routine and into bed - it made enough sense that he was fine letting it be not his problem anymore. He was much more interested in getting a good night's sleep than in spiraling into a frenzy over something that probably didn't matter in the slightest
.....Or not. Apparently, whatever part of his brain he didn't have control over greatly overpowered the part that was sane and rational, combined with all of the exhaustion in his body. He sighed as he begrudgingly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the shadows that flickered across his wooden ceiling. He could already tell this was gonna give him hell. He had never been someone who could take it easy, not even before the sounds of gunfire and explosions and the heavy stench of blood-soaked dirt had made themselves a permanent part of his world. This certainly wasn't the first time since that he had questioned his perception of reality; in fact, he was quite familiar with being disconnected from it, the way that it could bend around the most damaged parts of him and twist his mind back into a shape that no longer fit in the present. He sometimes heard gunshots when there was no one to fire them, screaming in his ear while he slept at night - It wasn't far-fetched at all to write this off as the conspiratorial delusions of a soldier taken off the battlefield too late. But, something about it just kept nagging at him, urging him to look deeper even if he couldn't handle it. Finally, after what had to be hours of tossing and turning in his sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
The spiral only pulled at him harder the next morning, as he made his early morning rounds and reports, harder still as he made his way back to the house and made breakfast. By the time he woke up Ramon he was wishing he still had hair on his head just so he could pull it out. His boy, of course, noticed his mood immediately.
"...What? What is it?" Fit asked as the kid stared at him flatly over his scrambled eggs and toast.
"Something is bothering you." Ramon pointed his fork at him. "Tell me." Fit sighed; that was his son, blunt as ever. He briefly contemplated spinning a lie to ease his mind, but wrote it off as soon as he remembered that his baby boy was a genius that, unfortunately, knew him far too well.
"It's nothing, Ramon, don't worry about it. Eat your eggs." Ramon dropped his fork loudly onto the table, not breaking eye contact. He looked unimpressed.
"Fit." There was silence as they stared at each other from across the table, both plates forgotten as they engaged in some sort of psychological battle that Fit felt he had a distinct disadvantage in somehow. After a long few minutes he turned his gaze away with a resigned grunt, knowing from an abundance of experience that there was no use in resisting Ramon's questioning - The kid was determined, and he had a way of getting things out of Fit that he sometimes didn't even want to admit to himself. He swallows a mouthful of his suddenly very bland tasting eggs, trying to think of how to start.
"You wouldn't happen to have any books that talk about seals, would you?" Is what he eventually settles on. Ramon blink at him in confusion, seemingly thrown off by the turn of the conversation. "It's- well, it might be nothing. It's probably nothing, But." He takes a deep breath, admitting to weakness is a difficult task that Fit has always had to push himself greatly to accomplish; he's been trying to work through it for his young boy's sake. "There's just been some stuff happening around here that I can't figure out and that's kinda the only place I can think to start looking, you know what I mean? It's nothing you need to worry about though, I promise." Ramon fiddles with the frayed bauble of his favorite red hat as he hums, thinking.
"I think a couple of the animal encyclopedias that you got me mention them, but nothing too detailed. What's been happening with the seals?" Fit takes another nauseating bite to buy himself time to consider his answer.
"I've just... been thinking about the fur we found," he says carefully, praying that It won't be a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Ramon doesn't seem fazed, only raising his eyebrows a bit as he waits for his father to continue. "I was sure it was from one of those ones that like to hang around here, and we were only seeing five of them for the past few days so I thought - someone must have hunted it, you know? But there's been no one here but us and Richas' parents, and then last night the seal that was missing showed back up and." He cuts off his ramble as he notices the strange look Ramon is giving him. "What? Do you think I'm going crazy or something?"
"Pac said he gave the seal it's skin back, remember?" He says plainly, like it makes complete sense. Fit balks at him, mouth open in disbelief. Ramon had.... Ramon believed that? But he was so smart for a kid his age, he had even called Fit out for pretending it wasn't dead! Had he just.... decided to believe Pac? Was this his way of coping?
"You, uh. What?" He responds eloquently. Ramon looks at him like he's grown a second head, and ok, now Fit is definitely going crazy. Since when does his little boy genius believe that one can simply give a dead animal it's skin back and bring it back to life?
"He gave it back." He draws out every word, as if he's the adult explaining a simple concept to a child. "The seal is fine. Richarlyson said it took Pac on adventures with it to thank him." He sniffs petulantly. "Kinda think he should have invited me, but whatever. It's all ok, see! Just like you said." Fit has no idea what to say, completely lost. This conversation had done nothing but add another layer of headache to the already impressive thorn in his side. He nods slowly, deciding to just let it go for the sake of the little sanity he has left.
"Right, ok. That makes sense, I guess." As far as he's concerned, if Ramon is happy there's no issue. That's what he tells himself at least, and to his credit it is mostly true. Ramon knows better though, and he levels Fit with a look that tells him as much. After a moment he returns his attention to his plate, looking bored with the topic of conversation.
"Richas said Pac is gonna be back to see you today. I'm gonna ask him all about it, you can listen if you want to." Fit startles a bit. Pac was coming back? "And if that doesn't answer your questions, maybe you should try checking all those old journals we found to see if they say anything useful?" Right, the archived journals from previous lighthouse attendants - Fit had completely forgotten about them, locked away as mementos in a storage room at the bottom of the lighthouse itself. He hadn't spared them a thought since he and Ramon had been shown them on their first day on the island. That was as good a place to look as any, he supposed. He makes a mental note to do so later tonight, when he's done with his work for the day.
"Yeah that's a good idea actually, thank you Ramon. You're damn smart, you know that?" Ramon nods easily, and Fit cracks a smile for the first time since his worldview had been upturned the night before. "Anyway, you say Pac is coming back today?" He tries not to sound too eager, though he doesn't think he does very well - he's missed his friend, what could he say? The manual labor was much more grueling without company, he had realized. It had been hard doing it alone again after having gotten used to Pac (and on semi-frequent occasion, Mike's) company over the past few months. Even when he had suspected the other man of being the dreaded poacher, a concept he had now completely written off as too out of character to be reliable, he had been more sad about the possibility of having to turn him in than about the actual poaching - although he definitely had been sad about that too. Ramon looks like he's stifling a laugh.
"That's what Richarlyson said. He said his other parents were making him do it today." Fit doesn't have time to question why Pac apparently needed someone to make him come back after his "adventure" before Ramon is getting up from the table with an exclamation of "done!" and running out to the beach, leaving his dirty dishes to Fit and ignoring as he calls after him, of course.
He finishes cleaning up and gets outside to join him just in time to see Richarlyson running eagerly up to the other boy, Pac following behind him at a much more casual pace. He can't help frombreaking into another smile as he draws closer, black waves dripping wet (as always) and a familiar grin lighting up his face.
"Oi!" He calls out across the remaining distance. Pac wastes no time in calling back to him, speeding up his walk a bit as Richarlyson reaches his target and tackles him into a hug. Fit decides to leave them to their own devices for the moment, setting his own pace towards his approaching friend and meeting him in the middle. "Where have you been?" Pac's smile turns sheepish, and Fit's eyes flick to the way his teeth nervously pull at his lip for a moment before he speaks.
"I was feeling really sick, I think I must have caught something from touching that pelt! I was throwing up and having a- a fever, you know how it is," He looks to Fit almost bashfully, like he's fully aware Fit isn't buying it. Fit, for all he's been agonizing over the possibility of Pac being.... something, suddenly finds that he doesn't really care. The seal is alive, Richarlyson is safe - whatever Pac was doing is his business. He's just happy to have some adult company again. Before he can say as much, not that he would have, Ramon comes running up from behind him, stopping short in front of Pac with elation tangible in his demeanor.
"PAC! Richas says you went on an adventure with the seal who's skin we found, what was it like? TELL ME!" Pac laughs, startled, and crouches down to meet the boy's eyes, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair through his hat.
"Yeah, it was amazing! I gave the seal his fur back and he was like 'oh wow thank you so much! come swim with me!' And he took me to his home in the kelp forest and introduced me to all his fish friends! We even saw some- ah, I forget how you say it in English - The big guys with the claws... LOBSTERS! yeah, we saw some lobsters! And they were fighting each other with SWORDS! Oh it was so cool Ramon, I wish you could have seen it. Hey, maybe I can ask him to take you next time!" Ramon's giggles stop abruptly as he gasps in excitement, eyes lighting up as he begins pleading with Pac to do so. Fit shakes his head fondly.
There's a soft look in Pac's eyes as he speaks animatedly to Ramon, recounting his epic underwater adventures with the dramatic flair of a man who's very used to entertaining children. And yeah, Fit decides as brown eyes stray momentarily to share an amused look with him, none of it matters. He'll look at those journals later to see if there's any mention of seal pelts or strange men appearing out of nowhere, but in the meantime he couldn't care less - he has his work buddy back, his son is happy, the weather is nice and no seals have been harmed.
Maybe he can take it easy, just this once. For now.
#selkie au#fitpac#god dammit fuck this took so long#not editing this shit fuck that you'll take my inconsistent tenses and you'll LIKE IT#asks#also for the record i am probably going to turn this into a multi-chapter fic I just have to. figurre out how to do that lollll#feel free to keep sending asks i'm having so much fun
120 notes
·
View notes
Note
Apex Polarity Personality Quiz
This is a small little thing for fun I made in order to have an excuse to make more things for Apex Polarity and its wide aurora of AUs and variations on setting and Y/Ns.
1. Claws, teeth, ravenous appetite, equally as devouring gaze.
To you these qualities describe -
A. A dangerous wild animal
B. Potential husband
C. The stalker who keeps leaving dead things at your address
D. All of the above
E. Are you in danger?
F. Circle if you need help
G. Yes
2. What you look for most in a partner
A. Obsessive feral devotion
B. Good with kids
C. Humble
D. Passionate
E. Good hunter
F. Bear trap level cuddler
G. Serial mental note taker on everything you say and do
H. Overprotective to a fault, perhaps very much at a fault.
3. Your favorite pastime.
A. Immersion in nature and being out in the wilderness
B. A cold dip in the sea
C. Basking in the sun
D. Acting like you're a dolphin
E. Curling up in a warm space
F. Spending quality time with your loved ones
G. The joys of parenthood
4. Your preferred superpower (totally not escape methods)
A. Teleportation
B. Super speed
C. Invisibility
D. Shapeshifting
5. Your favorite animal/animal you resonate with the most
A. Arctic fox, phantomlike and swift, hiding behind snowdrifts when danger stirs. Your instinct is to avoid the grip of vices no matter how tempting, except perhaps if your stomach is involved.
B. Penguin, despite the cold weather and unforgiving ice, you are soft at your epicenter, from inside it radiates, and like a mirror you are equally as besotted by that which is as innocent and gentle.
C. Beluga, spun sweet and melodic, on your voice is carried the play of heartstrings like the gentle waver of quivering arctic waters and dancing sunlight. You sing and although it is fearless, the depths do not murmur in vain.
D. Seal, eccentric and woven into everything you do, you tend to stumble over your nerves but when in your element you are freed from all anxieties. The world may have taught you caution but In time you may learn to embody this grace wholly.
E. Narwhal, reclusive but mystical at the same time, perilously shy, and gentle but possessing fierce zeal in dire situations. Unfortunately, your likeness to a unicorn is reflected in others and far from many intentions are pure.
6. What is the most valuable in your eyes
A. Sentimental things even long years after they've run dry of their practical use
B. Shiny objects like rocks and trinkets
C. Natural wonders and displays of the world's phenomena
D. Food and guaranteed survival
E. Companionship
Score
Count how many like numbers you get (aka, all 4s, 2s, etc) and group them to find how many you got each. The highest quantity number is the winner.
(Important!) - Some answers can have multiple numbers assigned to them, in order of most indicative to least. Add these as well, their order has no meaning or weight on the score itself unless a tie occurs.
Further Explanation Guide
- Totaling - Count the amount of each number separately to see which one got the highest amount, if you get 7 4s, 2 3s, 4 1s and 6 2s, 4 is the winning number because there are the most 4s.
Example - Answered D on 1, D has the numbers 1, 4, and 3. Therefore you would add each a 1, 4 and 3 to the pool of numbers for your result.
- Ties - If you get a tie you use the highest favor number of each answer to settle it, or you can enjoy your multiple results. The most favored number is always the first listed.
Answer Guide
- 1. Claws, teeth, ravenous appetite, equally as devouring gaze. To you these qualities describe -
A - 4, 3 | B - 3, 4 | C - 2, 1, 4 | D - 1, 4, 3
E - 4, 1, 2 | F - 1, 2, 4 | G - 4, 3
- 2. What you look for most in a partner
A - 4 | B - 3, 1, 4, 2 | C - 3, 2, 4 | D - 4, 1
E - 3, 1, 2 | F - 3, 2 | G - 4, 1 | H - 2, 1, 3
- 3. Your favorite pastime
A - 4, 3, 1, 2 | B - 3, 2 | C - 2 | D - 3, 1
E - 4, 2, 3 | F - 3 | G - 3
- 4. Your preferred superpower (totally not escape methods)
A - 4 | B - 3 | C - 2 | D - 1
- 5. Your favorite animal/animal you resonate with the most
A - 1 | B - 3 | C - 1, 2| D - 2 | E - 4, 1
- 6. What is the most valuable in your eyes
A - 4, 3 | B - 1, 3 | C - 4 | D - 1, 2, 3 | E - 3, 2, 4
Results
📷 Polar Y/N - Mostly 4s
🐧 Harpy Y/N - Mostly 3s
🦭 Selkie Y/N - Mostly 2s
🧜 Siren Y/N - Mostly 1s
Let me know if anything felt inaccurate or incorrect. I tried my best while still not reading much of AP because of mental health issues making it really too taxing to read a lot like as in books or fanfiction etc. Most of this is based on the various AU posts for Apex Polarity. You can adjust stuff if you feel like it doesn't fit.
#hey i hope it's okay that i made this a poll!!!#i'm just so enthralled by this!!!#i would love to see the results from everyone!#your number and tallying system is interesting#it took me a minute but when I figured it out I really enjoy it!#i like that the answers can have aspects of each possible result#it feels more real that way!#anyways thanks i love this#apex polarity#inkofheart#poll
175 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I saw your requests and can I just ask a little red riding hood au where reader is little red and geto/gojo/nanami/toji are the wolves that eat you (out).
[They don't have to be literal wolves but just as wild. U can pick one but if you want to write for more than one it would be great]
Good Enough To Eat 18+ mdni
Anon your brain is beautiful! This was originally for Halloween, but my I present: full moon Nanami 😌
Notes: F!reader, sex in the woods, prey/predator play(+dom/sub?), oral (F receiving), light breeding kink bc it’s Nanami, minor injuries, reader is consenting/discussed beforehand- consent is v sexy!
Someone did a public service and pulled an audio of Nanami’s heavy breathing and I need to be euthanized. I’d also like to dedicate this to @pseudowho because they’re always on top of the Kento Agenda and sharing the audio with them was a MUST. Like that’s literally our husband. 💗
You weren’t sure how long you were running with your picnic basket but you couldn’t catch your breath.
You couldn’t stop, either.
What started out as a simple evening picnic in the woods with your lover turned into a chase, as you ran for your life.
Kento… Kento was different from other husbands…
His unique qualities weren’t a hindrance to your relationship aside from the few times a year his instincts took over- and the heightened senses around the full moon. Even then, you both were so careful to avoid any accidental injuries. His body was far stronger than yours, with his heightened strength and lack of restraint being around him during his most vulnerable moments was dangerous.
“You can’t run forever, my love. I can smell you…”
Despite his taunts you refused to respond. He would catch up eventually but you didn’t want to make things worse by alerting him with your voice.
Unfortunately, between the blood pounding in your ears and lack of oxygen in your lungs, you lost your balance and tripped over an exposed tree root- with a twisted ankle, you were now dinner.
“Poor thing, that looked painful. Let me see it.”
Kento sounded calm but you knew the truth. Inside he was a simmering, insatiable, beast that already expressed its intentions of eating you.
He was getting closer and closer with his inhuman speed, you tried to get up and run but he had you pinned face down to the forest floor in seconds. Fuck.
“Got you.”
His voice was raspy in your ear as he started mouthing at your neck, “Gonna take you apart right here, right now. Feel how ready I am to take you?”
And you did, his cock was straining in his pants when he harshly ground against your ass. Impatiently, he pulled your hips up and adjusted your legs, keeping a hand on your back to maintain a good arch. The draft of the cool night air hit the back of your thighs, reaching higher when Kento flipped your dress up.
“No panties huh? You like being a wet whore don’t you? Running through the woods from a beast and leaking from your cunt.” He leaned down to inhale your scent close to the source and growled. “This pretty cunt needs filled up.”
You couldn’t help but feel a little bit of shame at how turned on you were by all of it.
A high pitched mewl left you as his tongue flicked across your clit from the back, feeling the way it throbbed each time it lashed against you. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, alternating between slurping up your growing arousal and suckling your clit.
Your body was on fire, pussy clenching, needy for him to fill you. “Kento please!”
With one last smack of his lips he moved his body over yours, completely dwarfing you under him and tangling your fingers together. “Gonna get you full of me, breed this pretty pussy.” His cock brushed against your folds for a moment before he thrusted into you in a single breath.
If you weren’t so wet, the stretch wouldn’t be as pleasant. Unlike now, when your eyes were rolling back from the feeling.
You could feel his cock grow harder, stretching you, his swollen tip rubbing against the spongy spot in your cunt, making you leak around him.
He’s panting in your ear, needing you to milk his cock, your whimpered moan of his name only spurring him on more. He moved your legs higher to fuck you deeper, thrusting into you in the most animalistic manner you’ve ever experienced with him. With every pass, he hit his target. You knew your knees would be bruised by morning and it would be a welcomed mark.
His grunting and panting rivaled your moans as you grew close to your peak- he wasn’t far behind you with the way your cunt was fluttering and slicking.
“Kento- gonna!” You couldn’t finish your sentence before you released around his cock, soaking the dirt beneath your bodies.
“Yeah that’s it, come baby.” He roared, spilling his spend into you with a few sloppy thrusts before stilling, his cock throbbing with its own heartbeat, an endless stream of cum filling your pussy.
He pulled out once his breath was even and carefully flipped you over, “Are you okay, sweetheart? Hurt anywhere?”
Your eyes were still glassed over when you smiled all dreamy at him. “We gotta do that again.”
Kento fixed his clothes with a chuckle and gathered you in his arms, putting the little picnic basket in your hands as he carried you back to the car.
He buckled you in and held your hand to his lips when he got in the drivers seat. “How about a hot bath and some ice for that ankle when we get home?”
While worth it, you’d definitely feel deliciously sore tomorrow, deciding then to take the day off work.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#reader insert#no use of y/n#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento#nanami smut
127 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
thea-mejia-blog
Thea
occucarehealthcare
Occucare Health
majesticserenityx
majestically imperfect
masilvi-art
Anto's little art blog
patohabladora
Patohabladora