#THE LEAP MONTH SHOULD HAVE A DIFFERENT NAME

[thegnomelord]

what if reader worried about speaking around the 141 boys because he worries what if his voice alone is too overwhelming for simple human minds to grasp and the sound of it alone could accidentally melt their brains into mush? Being finally comfortable to say a few words around them but still being hyper-aware of keeping his voice and all aspects of his form under control so nobody gets hurt.

Okay the absolute angst you could come up with this is astounding anon but also I'm in the need of fluff after a depression inducing exam sooo;

Imagine Calling Their Name For The First Time

CW:SFW, Fluff, Gaz, Price, Soap, Ghost x Eldritch reader (separate) slight hurt/comfort with Price, each part is roughly 600-700 words.

Imagine GAZ — As a cat, your presence used to help him sleep calmly on nights when his mind was hell bent on reminding him of his failures. Petting your belly or scratching down your spine while you laid on his chest gave his hands a mindless task he could succeed in, the sensation of your fur on his fingers just enough to keep him lucid and grounded when it felt like his bed wanted to swallow him whole. But now that you've revealed your true nature... things have changed.

He was the first one on the taskforce to trust you again; but make no mistake, it still took him months to stop jumping at shadows in the corners of his eyes. He still touches you, but it's different. Now his touches are contained to a pat on your shoulder or a small scritch under your chin when he thinks no-one's looking.

Even in the body of a cat you'd been silent as the grave, so he knows better than to force you to speak. Hell, he even offers an alternative after he sees how you struggle to express your thoughts through paper and pen: Sign language

It's a joint effort as he doesn't know it either, but you can't be mad at him when he giggles so sweetly every time your uncouth hands sign something ridiculous. It's hard to move your fingers with finesse when you've forced yourself in such a limited body and it translates to your language with it ending up bastardized and warped when compared to the real thing just as you are to reality itself.

On a night when his mind has run him ragged and chased away any hope of sleep, you find him on the roof of the base. He's easy to track when millions of your eyes dot the night sky; though you may be a god, you are so small you escape his notice as a storm of thoughts clouds his bloodshot eyes, not even the blanket you drape over his shoulders gets a reaction.

So like a young fool, you try something else.

Just like your sign language, just like you, the sounds escaping your throat are a distorted mockery of the real thing. What should be clean notes come out filled with whistles and chirps and the whispers of a million dead sacrificed to you over the millennia, each one speaking a fraction of a second out of sync to form a low and warbled "Kyle."

His name comes out like tar and sticks to the fabric of all that is, the air around you vibrating. He deserves far more than this, but it's the most human you can make yourself sound.

His head snaps to look at you, mouth agape and wetness around the corners of his eyes. For a second your nonexistent heart shreds itself into pieces thinking you'd broken him and you're ready to disappear into the blackness you crawled out of in an attempt not to harm him further; his hand stops you, pulls you by the front of your clothes so his sturdy hands can wrap around your body.

"Took your sweet time." He whispers so quietly even you need to strain your ears, burying his head into your shoulder. His rapid heart drums so hard against his ribs like it's trying to leap into your cold chest, and for a moment you can almost believe you have one of your own.

Against your better judgement you open your mouth again, speaking in just as quiet a voice as him, yet it still shakes every bone in his body. "You broken?"

He hugs you tighter. "Nah." Gaz gives a weak chuckle, squeezes his arms to check if you hadn't disappeared; that you're more solid than the dead men in his nightmares. "Keep talking to me, please? Say my name again, yeah?"

How can you refuse?

Imagine PRICE — At first, he doesn't know what to do with you.

Finding out the cat Soap and Gaz had begged his ear off into getting is actually some unspeakable god is one thing. Realizing he'd been letting said god use his tits pecs as stress balls and nap on them is a whole 'nother can of worms. Having to chastise a damn god about what is and isn't appropriate, let alone why trying to burry your head into his pecs in front of recruits isn't, is just down bizarre.

But he still treats you like any other soldier in need of guidance, he gives you structure despite the fact you, by definition, are structureless. He's strange like that, perhaps due to age, perhaps due to his asinine stubbornness, but he's a little more resistant to your existence than most. This lets him sit you down every week on the same day and try coaching simple words like 'yes' and 'no' and 'here' out of your throat, wearing ear muffs more for your sake of mind than protection.

Granted, you're as bullheaded as you are old, so most days he ends up talking with himself. But he considers it a small victory every time he manages to pull a word out of you.

Then your hubris makes a mission go to shit, because while you may be immortal in your human disguise, the three bullets in Price's chest that nearly kill him can attest he isn't.

Humans often speak of a god's wrath and they are right; you make a blackened hole out of the enemy base when you find him bleeding out, steel and stone bent into obtrude ways to ensure it may never be restored. You are lucky he's too exhausted to see parts of you burst out of your human back, tentacles of liquid abyss reaching through solid walls to grab the enemies and pull them down into the waiting jaws of nothingness. Not even a bug can save them from being erased from existence like they're drawings on a paper sheet...

But they hardly speak of a god's sorrow; you stay by his bedside while he sleeps, every inch of every surface of the room dotted by your eyes so you can make sure his chest continues to rise and fall in an even tempo, bearing your teeth at Death until it scampers off.

But it's still not enough with how regret claws at you, so you lean over to cover his body with your own, mindful of his sutures as you bury your head into his chest and let out all the words clogging your throat.

It's the tremble of his bones that finally wakes him, his eyes fluttering open to be met with a sea of maddening eyes across the ceiling staring back at him. But with exhaustion clouding his mind the incomprehensibility of the sight simply washes over and past him like a small wave, not even tickling his brain.

But your voice gains his attention, the soft saccharine croon in your voice, the little crackle of lightning in the bleakness behind each syllable vibrates every rib in his chest as you mutter something into his skin, like you're trying to pass a secret to his heart without him hearing it.

"Now what's that, Mittens?" He calls you the name he used when you were a cat, raising a hand to ruffle your hair. Your body hovers over his, enough to feel you against him but not enough to crush him. "Speak up, c'mon, ain't going to hurt."

You raise your head to look at him, his eyes are too blurred to see the gateways to oblivion yours have become, little drops of starry tears bleeding from the ceiling. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for getting you hurt." You speak before you can even remember you shouldn't, "I'm sorry John."

He just chuckles as much as the stitches will let him. "Well look a' you." He slurs and kneads the muscles at the nape of your neck, hand trailing down to hook his fingers over the harsh edge where your back is still hollowed out like a rotten tree until he can feel solid nothingness press against his skin. "Only took me nearly dyin' for you to finally talking in full sentences." He draws in a sharp breath and pulls you by your back so you're splayed out on top of him fully. "Go on, purr for me some more."

So long as he forgives you, you'll speak until the whole world's gone deaf.

Imagine GHOST— Ghost is the most vary of you after you reveal what you are, he still is in a way. You can feel his eyes on you whenever you two share a space as if he's just waiting for you to drop the charade and turn monstrous, but at the very least his fingers don't twitch for the trigger of a gun each time you draw close.

He doesn't force you to speak, not when he's not much of a talker himself. A simple grunt or a shift of the eyes is all it takes for you to understand him and vice versa, he even learns a few simple words in sign language, though he doesn't acknowledge it when Soap calls him out for growing soft on you.

Because your control of your human body is amateurish at best, he pulls you into sparring frequently. Of course he won't admit that he likes the power trip he gets when he pins you down, even if he does mock your godhood in his deep baritone that makes something new churn in your stomach. And he pins you down frequently, your superior strength of little use when he knows better techniques.

Somehow, this time you manage to knock him down on his arse with only a little cheating on your part. He stares back at you and you grin down at him to the best of your ability, not quite right but close enough, and with a happy glow in your eyes you let out a short and quiet "I win." without even noticing, the air around you vibrating with the laughter of reality.

You freeze and it feels like the cold oblivion in your veins turns to ice, and Ghost uses that distraction to grip your shoulders and roll you over so he's on top of you. But this time something feels different; you can't read his mind like you do communicating with your kin, but you see the tenseness in his muscles, the stiffness in his shoulders, the dark look in his eyes like he's on a mission.

"I win." He growls, pushing all of his weight down to pin your shoulder on the ground despite you not struggling as he rests his hand on your throat with his fingers on your silent pulse points. "Now, say my name." He orders. "Go on, sing fer me."

You swallow and feel the tightness in your throat from the resistance of his hand. It's funny; he is like a fly to you, yet you're the one who feels small. "Ghost?" You warble out with just enough intonation to phrase it as a question, something echoing in the silence behind your voice like the crackle of flame and the snapping of old bones.

A shiver races down his spine as he feels the you wiggle and shift beneath your human suit, pushing against his hand as if to caress him through the thin separation of skin. It makes something hot burn in his chest, something primal demanding to feel this supposed god trapped beneath him; to taste twisted divinity and maddening oblivion.

"No, not that one." He growls, lifts his mask just up to the bridge of his nose and then leans down so his eyes are level with yours. "Say my name." His order is clear even as he mumbles it against your cold lips.

You breathe in his scent, the edges of your form rippling in and out like fog or a glitching computer in a desperate attempt to hold on to your body. You tilt your head so your lips brush against his, suddenly short of breath despite the fact you don't need to breathe. "Simon." You whisper and you can taste heat on your tongue with each letter, the ground beneath you shuddering.

You feel him smirk. "Much bettah." Then the hand on your throat is tilting your head up further and his lips descend on yours. Distantly you can feel a bit of your oblivion seep from the pores of your skin, dark abyss clutching him tightly as the sweet taste— of heat, of life, of Simon —steals your ability to think.

You suffer a thousand deaths when he pulls away, the air turning heavy like cement. A low warbled whine escapes your throat and Ghost just chuckles. "Say it again."

You do, you do it as many times as he asks, each word rewarded with a kiss that leaves your eternal mind blank like paper.

Imagine SOAP — You think he's gone mad when he's more bummed out about losing a cat than learning you're actually a creature beyond human comprehension that can destroy him with a blink. If anything, it's like he sees no difference between human 'you' and cat 'you'.

He's touchy and tactile, his fingers always lingering on your cold skin like he's trying to pass the warmth of life into you; his hand ruffling your hair after a job well done, his fingers feeling up your bicep when you work out, the little tap tap tap on your side when you and him cross paths in the hall, his possessive grip on your hip whenever some recruit gets too close to you.

And all the while he's yapping for the two of you, talking with you as if you'll answer only to continue speaking about some other topic a second after you remain silent. You let him because the sensation of his touch and the sound of his voice outweighs the annoyance you feel when he tries to pry words from your mouth.

Even after witnessing first hand what you can do, how reality pours through your fingers like wet sand, he's arrogant to think he can withstand what you are. He's worse when he's drunk, booze loosens the chains on his tongue and inhibitions and makes your Icarus to jump into your lap when you're reading.

"Now what's thaet for?" He slurs as he knocks the book out of your hand, "Thought yea was some all knowing dobber." He nearly makes you topple over when he winds his arms around your neck and pulls your head down until your noses touch, the scent of booze washing over your face.

He hopes to get a reaction out of you- even elephants swat away flies when they buzz in their ears long enough -maybe a curse or a harsh 'MacTavish' with how many mannerisms you've picked up from them; the only thing that makes it's way out of your hollow throat is a small hum of surprise, ringing like the inside of a dead planet and scrapping against his ears like an iceberg on the ocean floor.

Soap gives you an indignant huff like you've offended him, shifting in your lap until his knees are on either side of your hips, thick thighs caging you in on the couch as if something without true form can be contained. "What's thaet s'posed tae mean?" He tries to lean in but overshoots, bonking your foreheads together before nuzzling his nose into your hair. Under the veneer of standard issue bodywash and cologne he can smell something exclusively you, like the heat of a dying star and the cold of the void you spawned from.

You furrow your brows, worry gnawing on your stomach. You know alcohol is poisonous to men though you've seen them drink plenty of it, and Johnny is more out of it than usual. "You are drunk." Each letter crackles though the air like firecrackers, his hair standing on end as your words are warped by an accent of a language so ancient the earth is too young to know it.

"Nea I'm not." His brain is so drowned in booze your voice barely gets pop rocks to fizzle in his ears, but he wiggles his hips like a tempter and when you don't catch the hint he grabs your hands and places them on the curve of his arse. "'M nae as think as ye drunk ah am." He whines, pulling back to look at you with wide blown pupils before he grinds his hips down into your lap.

His name flies so fast out of your mouth it nearly sucks the air out of the room, "Johnny." the lights overhead flicker, your traitorous hands gripping his rear tightly. Your voice continues to echo after you've closed your mouth, each letter creating little pockets of nothingness in the space you share for a second before reality can fill them back up.

"That ah am." He grins like a child and bonks your heads together, placing a wet kiss on your cheek seconds before he passes out on top of you. You sigh and recline back into the couch, letting him use your shoulder as a pillow while he snores like a pig.

And, perhaps, you let yourself whisper his name a few more times...

#Gnome's Imagines #Eldritch reader #cod mw2 #x reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x male reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

#love is real #autistic #tingleverse

[the-karma-cafe]

Medium honor Arthur picks up character but it’s for a crime she didn’t do! Oh and outdoorsy love stuff

a/n: omg ok i dont know what you mean by outdoorsy love stuff is that SEX or is that FLUFF (im giving you both) thank you for the request !!

warnings: DID NOT PROOFREAD, sex (hell no !!!), spanking, he's a little mean but not really (as medium honor usually goes), mildly dubious consent

It was the age-old story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When I discovered Mrs. Braithwaite on the floor一thick, wine-red blood pooled beneath her chest一I’d barely had a second to react before one of her sons screamed, tackling me to the ground. His fingers were bruising against my arms, shaking me, asking what the fuck was the matter with me, telling me I’d fucking swing for this. 

I don’t even remember how I got away from him, slamming something into his skull and breaking free from that iron grip, leaping off the balcony without a second thought.

It was only miles away on one of their prized horses did it finally hit me that whatever case I’d had to defend myself with was long gone. I wouldn’t be able to show my face in Rhodes again一or really anywhere else一with a high-profile family like the Braithwaites on my ass.

I kept riding further north, hoping to put as much distance between me and that damn corpse as possible. Of all the people, it had to be her, and it had to be me. 

By the time I reached Valentine, I’d felt more sorry for myself than I had in a long time. Thanked my lucky stars I always kept my money on me and bought some supplies there to… well, live on the lam, I supposed. 

But for the first couple nights, I moped. Stayed in the saloon every morning and the hotel every night一not much else to do in a livestock town. 

When I felt a bit better, I sold the Braithwaite horse. It was big and proud and all sorts of attention-grabbing. I bought a different one一drab and small, but fast. 

Sooner than I thought, the news had travelled. A new bounty poster was slapped right on the wooden post outside the saloon, my sketchy reflection glaring back at me. MURDEROUS MAID. 

I pursed my lips. They could’ve spared me the alliteration.

Tore it down, stuffed it in my bag, and left town. Wouldn’t take long for a small town like Valentine to put two and two together. 

The bounty was nothing to sneeze at. I was almost flattered. Wanted alive, $500. I figured it’d take a lot to deter bounty hunters from $500, so I took to the mountains. It was likely just a matter of time, but by god was I going to make them work for it.

Now, here I was, having found some barn to hole up in, next to the remains of a torched homestead (I’d briefly picked through it and rescued a dented can of peaches and a lock box holding some fancy necklace). Would’ve preferred the house, but shelter was shelter. Peaches (affectionately named after said can) seemed to like it in here, at least.

“You want one, boy?” I held one out to where he sat a foot or so away from me. For only having just met me, he was a sweet horse, resting his head on my lap while I slept, following me around while I hunted (although I quickly found he loved to scare off game, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to just stay put, goddammit).

Peaches leaned his big head forward and sniffed at the proffered fruit. To my surprise, he snorted and turned away from it, flicking back his ears and giving me a severe side-eye. “What!” I laughed, bringing it back away from him. “Now you tell me.”

He huffed out of his nose, like it should have been quite obvious, thank you very much. I giggled and continued to eat, idly watching the flame flicker in one of the lanterns hung from the ceiling. 

I eventually drifted off to sleep, still not any closer to figuring out my future than I was a month ago.

The next morning, I ventured back into the wilderness to hunt. So far, I’d been a bit less successful than I’d hoped, but I had done well enough for myself. 

I breathed out slowly, my arm steadily following the movements of a buck a couple yards away. My breath puffed out white in front of me, warming my nose. This was the closest I’d ever gotten to game this big.

The buck lowered its head, nosing past the snow to the damp grass below. I kept my arrow aimed above, where I knew its head would return. A breath in. C’mon…

It raised its head, staring off to its right somewhere, and I stretched back the string, my grip still a bit wobbly against its force. Another breath out. 

A whisk of air whooshed over me, and I startled, releasing my grip on the arrow. It flew a couple feet away before planting headfirst into the snow. Something forcibly tightened around my torso, crushing my arms against my sides. What the hell?! I yelped in surprise and wobbled from my perch, falling backwards.

My head dented the snow behind me, sending it down my collar and into my hair, freezing my neck and ears. “Ahh!” I struggled against the coil around me, simultaneously flinching away from the cold now assaulting my warm skin.

Footsteps crunched over to me, and an upside-down face and chest soon came into view. He looked down at me with a pleased expression on his face, or at least it seemed like it, it was hard to tell behind that high collar and tipped hat. 

He rounded to my front and his gloved hands yanked at the rope, pulling me slightly up from the snow to face him better. He squinted at my face, now surely pinkened from the snow I could still see on my lashes. His chest rumbled with approval, and he nodded, more to himself than me. “Thought so.”

“What?” I exhaled, staring up at him dumbly. 

He cracked a smile, and this time I could tell. “The murderous maid, I take it?” 

My blood ran cold. Oh, fuck. I had almost forgotten, tucked away in this silent, snowy haven. 

Apparently my expression was all it took to confirm things for him. His smile turned to a smirk and he tugged at the rope, bringing me up to stand. I instinctively pushed away from him, but he held me firmly to him, his arms thick and strong (my god this man was big). He looped the rope around me again before tying it securely at my front. 

Then, he promptly threw me over his shoulder and began to walk. 

“Let me go!!” I thrashed from my perch, kicking at him. 

He growled and tightened his grip on my thighs. “Kick me again and I'll make you regret it, girl.”

A fearful whimper slipped past my lips and I stilled. 

“That’s what I thought,” he grunted, but his grip didn’t loosen. 

He whistled, loud and sharp, and I heard the familiar sound of hooves approaching. The image of Peaches by himself in the barn flitted through my head.

“Um, mister?” I whispered, my tone timid and polite. The tone I used to use with the Braithwaites. 

He heaved a sigh, annoyed with me. “What.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to anger him further. “My… my horse. He’s in a barn nearby, I don’t want him to be stuck up here all by himself.”

He didn’t respond to that. I grimaced. If I’d kept the Braithwaite horse at least he would’ve saved it to sell it一Peaches was likely barely worth the walk to a man like him.

His horse slowed to a stop nearby, and the man none-too-gently threw me over its back. I winced, feeling its butt dig into my stomach. 

The bounty hunter made quick work of me, tying my legs together and then securing me to his horse. He patted my thigh, “Comfy?” I could almost hear the smug look on his face.

“More ’n ever.” I grumbled, mostly to myself. He barked a laugh and pulled away from me, leaving me cold. He mounted up on his horse and began to ride.

I couldn’t see much from my “seat,” but I began to vaguely recognize the path he followed.

“Are you…” I started, my voice quiet. I turned my head to look up at him, and raised my voice. “Are you goin’ back for him?”

He didn’t answer, and made no move to indicate he had even heard me. 

Not wanting to push my luck (or Peaches’), I stayed quiet.

Sure enough, we reached that barn and he dismounted. When he returned, Peaches was in tow, neighing happily when he saw me.

I laughed brightly despite the situation. “Hey, boy!!” The bounty hunter released his reins and Peaches bounded up to me, nuzzling and snorting into my hair wetly. I giggled and tried to move my head away. “Oh my god, Peaches, gross.”

“Peaches?” the man echoed, a note of disbelief coloring his tone.

I turned and smiled up at him. “What?”

He shook his head, gesturing to the horse. “Ain’t he a boah?”

“So?” 

He snorted, but didn’t answer me, instead mounting back up on his horse. My smile faded from my face as we continued. My last days of freedom.

I stayed quiet as we rode, figuring that was the best way to get on his good side (I didn’t need to get smacked for yapping). The horse’s gait made me feel sick enough that I didn’t want to, anyway, its back poking into me, alternating between every corner of my stomach with each step.

Eventually, the snow began to taper off down the path, though a chill still hung in the air. I shivered, the back of my jacket still wet and cold against my neck. The sky was beginning to darken, subtly and colorlessly as winter skies often did. 

Wordlessly, the bounty hunter turned us off the path and into the trees, likely seeking some spot to set up camp for the night. Peaches followed dutifully behind us, although he seemed to have sobered a bit, as if sensing my discomfort. 

He must have found a spot he liked, as he dismounted and reached by my side for his tent and bedroll. He pulled them off and got to work setting everything up. 

I felt my eyelids droop, my body finally able to relax with the horse stopped. 

Not ten minutes later, I was jolted awake by hands grabbing me off of the horse and hoisting me up. I made a small noise of surprise in my throat, feeling him drop me back onto his shoulder, carrying me over to his makeshift camp. Truthfully, I had thought he’d just leave me on his horse for the night. 

I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.

The bounty hunter dropped me to the ground by the fire, and I huffed, adjusting myself to sit upright. The warmth wafting off of it confirmed that this was definitely better than being stuck on that horse all night. I leaned closer to it, and made to bring my hands up, but was cruelly reminded of the ropes keeping them by my sides. I heaved a sigh.

A bottle appeared in my vision. I blinked down at it in confusion, before looking up at the man who held it. “Whiskey?” I prompted.

“If there’s any time to drink, it’d be now.” He nudged the lip of the bottle closer to my mouth.

I held his gaze for a moment longer before turning to it. “…Can’t argue with that.” I pressed my lips against it. He lightly tipped the bottle, letting a good mouthful flow past my lips. I choked it down, then another, then another, then another, before finally wrenching my face from it, coughing. “Jesus!”

He laughed, corking it and tucking it into his satchel. He knelt down behind me and I felt a pressure on the ropes before they snapped away. I brought my arms forward slowly, rubbing my hands over them. He stood and rounded the fire, plopping down on the other side of it. I looked up at him in confusion.

He grinned. “Gave you enough whiskey that even if you try to hop away,” He paused, his grin turning wolfish, “You won’t get far.” He stretched out languidly, finally allowing himself to relax. 

Heat crept up my neck, flustered at his reasoning. “You just get all your bounties drunk?” I spluttered.

He shrugged.

I huffed, holding out my hands towards the fire to warm them. “Creep.”

“I ain’t the one goin’ around killin’ old ladies.” He retorted.

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. “I didn’t kill her!” 

“Sure sounds like you did.”

I raked my hand through my hair. “Why the hell would I kill the woman payin’ me to live?” I met his gaze again. 

He didn’t seem very sympathetic. Another shrug. “Lots of people wanna kill their boss.”

“Not me!”

He snorted. “I’m shoah.”

I shook my head at the fire, deflating. “I had it made working for her. Easy work, good pay, didn’t really have to talk to anyone, and,” I shrugged my shoulders, “best part of having a lady boss is she won’t let the men get away with being terrible to you.”

He stayed quiet, and I felt myself ramble more, “I mean, sure, she was a miserable old hag, mean ’n sour, but as long as you stayed out of her way and did your job, she was cordial enough.” The image of her on the ground flicked through my mind. “Shit.” I pressed my palms into my eyes, wiling them to cast it from my brain. “Can’t believe this is how it ends.”

The drink began to encroach further into my head, making my thoughts hazy. I cursed again under my breath, the reality of the situation truly, truly, settling in. This was it for me. Swinging from a rope for a crime I didn’t commit. 

“You really didn’t do it.” 

I scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Been sayin’ that, haven’t I?”

“…That you have.” 

Silence fell between us once more, each left with our thoughts. It felt nice to be believed by at least one person before the end. 

A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered, reminded of the wet coat I was still shrouded in. I glanced over the fire at the bounty hunter, but he didn’t look up, eyes hidden under his hat.

“...Mister?”

He raised his head, and that piercing gaze met mine. I faltered, almost losing my voice to it.  

He heaved a great sigh. “…Arthur.”

“What?”

He sighed, raising his hat momentarily to rake a hand through his hair before placing it back down again. “Call me Arthur.”

I smiled softly in spite of myself. “Okay.”

“…And what did you need?” Arthur prompted, as I had already forgotten. Perhaps he was right about that whiskey.

I rubbed my hands on my arms. “Do you have any… drier clothes I could wear?”

He nodded, pushing up from the ground. I watched him make his way over to his saddlebag, watched him rifle through it for something dry. 

It had to be the whiskey. Or that he was the first to believe me. Or that he was really the first person I’d seen in weeks.

His back was just so… broad. My eyes followed how the muscles underneath his shirt moved, following his arms’ movements. My mind helpfully supplied how one of those big arms felt wrapped around my thighs, how that big hand felt patting my thigh, so close to…

He turned around, and I forcefully muted my thoughts, spreading a polite smile on my face. He made his way back to me, some bunched up garment in hand. I began to shrug off my coat, struggling with it as it snagged on my undershirt and held tight to my shoulders. 

Arthur watched me try to figure it out, but eventually I just gave up, so fatigued from the day that I just didn’t care anymore. He chuckled, kneeling down next to me. “Outsmart you, did it?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I’ll deal with it in a second,” I offered a small smile, “Thank you.” 

“I got it,” he said, and at first I wasn’t sure what he meant. He dropped the coat in his hand and moved in front of me. I watched him wordlessly, suddenly feeling very tired of talking anyway. 

Arthur’s eyes met my own for a moment, searching my face. Whatever he found there, he seemed satisfied with, and he moved his hands to the buttons of my jacket. He started from the top, unbuttoning each at an impossibly slow pace, or at least it felt like it.

He smoothed his hands up to my shoulders, and gently pushed off each sleeve, taking out my arms. I shivered again, my skin now freshly exposed to the cold. I spied the slightest twitch of his lips. He reached around me, his body hovering slightly above mine, his neck an inch from my lips. I felt myself lean forward, my nose brushing up against him. His hands pulled the rest of my coat off from behind me, and he sat back, bunching it into a ball. He then took his dry coat and pulled it over me in its place, rubbing his hands slightly up and down my arms. “There,” he said, and rested back on his heels again. 

I blinked up at him, my lips slightly parted. His face softened, his lips pulling down into a teasing smile. He reached out and cupped my cheek, and I leaned into it almost immediately, not caring enough to be embarrassed by it. So big and warm. “Lookit you…” he cooed, his thumb stroking my skin. “Feelin’ that drink already?”

I hummed noncommittally, too focused on the newfound warmth from his jacket around me and his hand on my cheek. 

Arthur huffed a quiet laugh, “Guess that’s a yes.”

He stood, dropping his hand from my cheek, and my head dropped slightly. I sighed, snuggling into his jacket to make up for it. It wasn’t the same. 

“‘M still cold.” I complained.

“Yer insatiable.” He said, but knelt back down again nonetheless. I raised my head to meet his gaze. He thinned his lips. “Don’t think I’ve ever had such a whiny bounty.”

“Sorry, Arthur.” I mumbled, looking over at his tent longingly. It wasn’t my barn, but it would give at least some protection from this wind, as opposed to sleeping out here. 

Before I could ask about it, air whooshed beneath me, and I yelped in surprise. Arthur had hoisted me up into his arms, and began to carry me to his tent. My eyes widened slightly. “A..Arthur?” I whispered, subconsciously snuggling into his chest. He was so strong, it was like I weighed nothing to him.

“You’ll just whine all night if I don’t let you stay in here.” He explained, ducking past the flaps to drop me down on the bedroll. He was probably right about that. Or maybe this was just another way of making sure I didn’t escape while he slept.

I rolled under the cover, snuggling into it as far as I could. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him, so much stronger here than on his jacket. My eyelids fluttered closed. 

I felt him sigh and enter the bedroll next to me. It was a tight fit, Arthur pressed against my back to keep any amount of cover atop him. His hand rested on my hip, heavy and possessive. “Warmer?” He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He was so close.

“Mm-hm,” I hummed, my voice barely coming out. 

I thought that was it, but then…

His voice dropped lower, quieter. “…You sure?” 

A shiver ran through me. What? His hand squeezed my hip lightly, pulling me closer into him. His breath ghosted past my ear, against my neck. Was he…?

I exhaled shakily, some deep part of my whiskey-addled brain telling me that this was my chance. That if there was anything that would convince this man to let me go…

Lightly, I pressed back into him, sighing when I felt his hand smooth to the top of my thigh. “Could use a bit more,” I murmured.

It was all the prompting Arthur needed. Hot lips pressed against my neck, his hand insistent on molding my ass against the hard line in his pants. My breath hitched in surprise, and I felt myself rock back against him before I could think. He cursed under his breath, dragging his hand forward and between my thighs. I attempted to part my legs, allow him better access, but was met with resistance. 

Oh, right. The rope. 

He laughed behind me, smoothing his hand back to grab my ass instead. I squeaked in surprise, feeling him push me onto my stomach. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ out of those anytime soon,” he promised. I flushed at that.

Arthur yanked me back, forcing my ass into the air. I felt his hands palm me, smoothing circles into my pants. “Looks even better like this,” he muttered, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself. 

Before I could respond, he reached around and unclasped my pants (much faster than my jacket), pulling down at the sides just enough. The rope bound me mid-thigh, so he could only get my pants down so far. A cool breeze blew past the tent, and I felt a bit of it ghost against me. My face reddened, feeling all at once how wet I was. Really? I felt surprised at myself.

I squirmed, rubbing my thighs together. “Arthur, are-“

A slap to my ass silenced me. I squeaked and jolted forward, the heat in my face increasing tenfold. “Dealt with enough of yer whinin’ for one night.” He bit, soothing his hand over where he slapped. 

I exhaled, burying my face deeper into the bedroll, feeling my hips sway against his hand, begging for more. 

His hands smoothed down my ass, reaching down to squeeze my thighs apart, to better see me, see how wet I already was for him. I hoped he couldn’t see. It was bad enough to have him feel- 

“A-Ah…” my breath hitched, feeling his thumb drag down through my folds. 

He hissed, sliding the pad of his thumb against my clit. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re soakin’,” 

I squirmed against his touch, trying not to moan, unsure if I’d be punished again for it. He pushed his thumb back up, pressing it inside of me, and I felt myself try to part my legs again, to feel more of him, deeper, and almost cried in frustration when I couldn’t. 

I heard him chuckle again behind me. “Aww, I’ll take care of you, darlin’, don’ worry,” he said, moving his thumb out to trace back down to my clit, pushing another finger inside of me in its stead. I muffled my moan into the pillow. 

Arthur continued working at me, circling my clit with those deft, rough fingers of his, slowly pushing in and out of me. I pushed back against him, desperately trying to feel more, but every time he just shoved me right back where I was before, keeping up his torturous pace.

All at once, he pulled away, and I whined. Another slap to my ass as a result, and I let out a muffled groan, feeling my eyes roll back. “What’d I say about whinin’?” He admonished.

I wiggled my hips back, hearing him undo his own pants. Please, please, please. He was all I could think about, my legs desperately trying to separate, to take in more, more, more. 

I almost wept when I felt him nudge against me, coating himself in the wetness he’d created. I pushed back, trying to take him in, knowing if I angled it right he wouldn’t even need to help me. His hand kept my ass steady, soothing circles onto it. “So needy…” he mocked, smoothing his hand down to my hips, to my waist, squeezing there. 

Slowly, god, so slowly, he pushed into me, forcing me open around him. I moaned obscenely, unable to keep it back anymore. He didn’t seem to care this time, letting out a low curse of his own under his breath. Almost there, almost there… and he thrust into me, making me gasp at the sudden movement. 

He pulled back and rammed back in, setting a bruising pace. I pushed back into him with each thrust, the ropes cutting into my thighs with how I fought against them, trying to take in as much of him as possible each time. 

His hands gripped the tops of my thighs and part of my ass like a handle, using me like some kind of toy. “God-damn,” his voice came out staccato, matching his movements, “you’re so fuckin’.. tight.. for me…”

I whimpered, arching back, so lost in pleasure that I truly didn’t care what he did to me. He could have whatever he wanted, as far as I was concerned. 

Drool dribbled out of my mouth, wetting his pillow. I felt limp under him, only kept upright by those rough hands of his.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his movements becoming less regular, more frantic. He swore again before pulling out of me, spending onto my ass and back. 

We stayed like that for a moment or two, catching our breath, before he swiped off my back with something and collapsed next to me. 

I flopped onto my side to face him, my legs still bound together. “Thank you, Arthur,” I whispered, “I’m much warmer now.”

Arthur snorted, snaking his arm around me to pull me to his chest. “My pleasure.”

-

The next morning I awoke alone in his tent, hearing him shuffle around outside. I blinked blearily, reaching up to rub the crust from my eyes. I yawned, laying onto my back, stretching my legs apart.

Wait. Stretching my legs apart?

I glanced down to visually confirm the sensation, finding my legs freed from the rope. I also noticed my pants had been pulled back up to cover me.

I sat up, peeking through the tent flaps. He sat at the fire, his back to me. Was he just letting me sleep comfortably before we left?

Despite the threat of death hanging over my head, I felt myself warm at the thought. This was a much sweeter awakening than I had expected.

Before I could think about escaping, or at least putting off our trip to the hangman, Arthur turned, as if sensing I was awake. "Mornin'," he greeted, his voice soft and low. I shrank a little under his gaze, and whispered a greeting back before creeping out from the tent. 

Once outside, I shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around me. Arthur grunted, beckoning to me. "C'mere,"

I obeyed, walking over to where he sat. He spread his legs, patting the ground between them. I blinked down at him blankly. 

He rolled his eyes and snatched at my hand, pulling me to the ground. I made a small noise of surprise, falling to sit between his legs. His arms and knees caged me in, bringing me back into his chest. This was so strange. 

But not unwelcome.

I snuggled back into him anyway, not about to turn my nose up at the last physical affection I'd ever receive. 

We stared into the fire for who knows how long. I almost didn't breathe, trying not to remind him that we had places to be. 

Arthur squeezed me lightly, propping his chin on my shoulder. "Y'can relax," he sighed, his accent thicker now, in the morning. "'M not bringin' y'in." 

What? My breath hitched, my heart beating faster. Was he serious? I turned in his hold slowly, craning my neck to look back at him. I didn't trust myself to speak.

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. 

"...Thank you," I said dumbly, breaking eye contact. Well, now what? 

Now, I certainly didn't want him to change his mind.

I turned a bit more in his hold to better face him, feeling his arms adjust around me. I smoothed my hands up his shirt and met his eyes again. He watched me carefully, suspiciously, like he was expecting some kind of attack. 

I moved slowly, not wanting to startle him, inching my face closer to his. I watched his eyes drop to my lips, his own parting in anticipation. I hadn't noticed before, but I seemed to have some sway over this bounty hunter, readily accepting whatever touch I offered him. 

I smiled softly at that, and closed the gap between us, gently pressing my lips to his. Warm. 

He melted the slightest amount, his shoulders sagging, his chest leaning closer to me. He was sweeter, now, in the morning. Softer, more patient. I slipped my hands up behind his neck, scratching lightly at the hair poking out from beneath his hat. He sighed into my mouth, his arms squeezing me closer to him. 

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, warm and close. When we broke apart, he cleared his throat, looking past me to not meet my eyes. "You..." his voice scratched out and he cleared his throat again, "Y'can stay with me, if you want. 'Till this whole thing blows over."

I had a sneaking suspicion it would be a long time yet. I nuzzled my nose against his jaw. Staying with him was safer than anything I would try on my own. "Thank you, Arthur."

He hummed. 

a/n: on a scale of 1-10 how terrible is it that i posted this from class NOT WROTE IN CLASS posted from

anyway teehee hope you enjoyed and also hope it wasnt obvious that i kinda had no idea where to go with this teehee im just a girl

(also posted on ao3 under same user)

#fanfic #fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #bounty hunter #request #requests open #reqs open #writing requests

[everlasting-rainfall]

Skin into Fur

Hey, everyone! I wanted to work on something different and this is another AU of mine known as the Animal Shifter AU where there are humans that can turn into animals!

Feel free to send in questions or requests about this AU as this is an AU that I somewhat enjoy as well!

I hope you like it!

!-MINORS DNI FOR ANY REASON-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Stalking, Harassment, Breeding, Transformation, Kidnapping, Noncon, Biting, Dead Animals, Kidnapping (?), Size Difference

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DNI FOR ANY REASON-!

Imagine that you are someone who is looking for a job, you’re having a lot of trouble as you aren’t really good at anything but eventually you come across a job that seems absolutely perfect for you

It’s a job down at the local zoo, they’re looking for new people to take care of the animals especially after a lot of the handlers just up and quit out of the blue

You called the number almost immediately and within a week, you were hired and being trained to take care of the zoo’s animals properly and you wound up being somewhat of a natural at it as even the more skittish animals seemed to warm up to you quite easily

Despite you being a natural at it though, there was one animal at the zoo that you were told to not get close to for even a slight second as this animal had given every single handler who has tried to work with him such an incredibly hard time to the point where many just up and quit or suffer some kind of career ending injury

This animal was known as “Spotted Evil” or “That One Asshole” by the zookeepers but to guests who visited the park and read the informational plaque outside of his enclosure, they would find that his name was actually Lucci

You weren’t looking to get your face ripped off any time soon so you just continued on with your life and caring for the other animals although whenever you passed by Lucci’s enclosure, you swore that you could feel his eyes on you like he was getting ready to leap at you and take a bite out of you

Whoever invented the safety glass for zoos to use instead of bars was a god in your eyes… Because lord, that leopard would stare you down…

For months afterwards, it was the same thing everyday as you would show up and take care of the animals that you were assigned to

The zoo would open and people would come in to look at the animals, you would even give a show or two to some kids about how amazing certain creatures were like you once gave a show about how cool wolves were but the wolf that you were handling just had to be an asshole and not cooperate at all

You constantly found yourself wanting to avoid Lucci’s enclosure at all costs though as you swore that the leopard was gunning for you as normally he would simply stay in his den or pace around his enclosure when it was around meal time but he seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to you

He would always and I mean ALWAYS know exactly when you were passing by his enclosure as he would seemingly appear out of nowhere to just stare at you and you specifically, it didn’t matter who was looking in his enclosure at the time

It could probably be someone wearing a full outfit made entirely out of leopard skin but he would only watch you… Hell, you were certain that if the world was ending on one side of the enclosure and you were sweeping trash on the other side then he would still just be watching you…

Eventually time passed and you left on vacation to spend some time relaxing but while you were away, the zoo made a decision that Lucci should find a mate and breed to have cubs as it may mellow him out a little

But when they brought in a female leopard for Lucci to mount and mate with, he didn’t show any interest at all and even seemed to be somewhat aggressive with the female leopard that he was given when she did things that he didn’t like

So the zoo tried again and again with different female leopards but nothing worked and eventually they stopped when Lucci attacked and scarred a female leopard that was getting a bit too pushy with him for his liking

You of course didn’t know about any of this until you returned from vacation about a half month later and your co-workers told you everything including how Lucci seemed to almost be looking for you as he would pace around his enclosure just staring out and scanning the area

It was an unnerving thought to you and when you walked by Lucci’s enclosure that day, his stare felt more intense than it usually did and you swore that he was plotting your demise in his head right then and there

You just tried to ignore it and when the winter came around, Lucci almost seemed to not stare at you as much as he would spend a lot more time in his den which was odd as you were pretty sure that leopards didn’t hibernate but whatever kept him from staring at you, right?

It was around this time as well that someone started hanging around the zoo, he was a man that looked even more intimidating than Lucci and also looked like he did not belong in a zoo staring into the giraffe enclosure as he would always be wearing some form of suit whether it be white or black

He was everywhere that you went but he never outwardly approached you, you personally found him strange and scary and so did your co-workers as they would tell you that they never saw him leave or arrive on the security cameras which was downright scary as it would almost seem like he would just appear and disappear

Eventually he approached you out of the blue one day and attempted to strike up a conversation with you, it was probably pretty obvious that you were uncomfortable as you kept your responses short while you tried to move about the zoo and take care of your work

This man kept trying to talk to you but you didn’t ever reply, he would show up everyday and just follow you around while trying to make conversation if he wasn’t standing off somewhere nearby

You wound up bringing this up to your boss and your boss thank the lord had apparently been looking for a reason to ask this guy to leave as they had been pretty weirded out by them as well so the man was asked to leave and when he wouldn’t, you called the police only for him to disappear as soon as they arrived

He never came back after that day which you were thankful for and Lucci became more active in his enclosure as he would come out of his den more often now, it was relieving to not have to deal with him anymore

But then the gifts started…

Little things would be left in your work locker or by it, it started with small things but then it progressed to bigger things and it was absolutely clear that you had a stalker

Checking the cameras provided nothing as there would be missing footage from every camera at a specific time like the person who was doing this was deleting the footage from the cameras themselves, it was downright scary and you got permission from your boss to start carrying pepper spray on you at work to defend yourself should the stalker ever appear

The gifts that would be left in your locker didn’t stop as there would be a new one every single day, it started off as semi normal things with each having a strong scent that kind of reminded you of the zoo but eventually they became a lot more weird as you opened your locker to find a good amount of fur on your things

But then one day, they became downright threatening as you found a dead animal inside of your locker bleeding all over your things. You couldn’t help but scream and the police were immediately called as this was getting really dangerous

The police couldn’t do anything as they couldn’t say for certain who had done it so they simply told you to remain safe and call them immediately if something happens

Your co-workers became worried for you as there would be a dead animal of some kind in your locker every single day and your mental health started taking a heavy hit, you started losing sleep causing you to look incredibly disheveled

All the while though, things at the zoo remained semi the same beyond your stalker leaving shit in your locker as you still took care of the animals, you still did the occasional animal show albeit with a co-worker now, and Lucci still watched you from his enclosure

The gifts never stopped and eventually you almost got used to seeing a dead animal in your locker everyday, it was still disturbing but you expected it more now when you opened the locker and found a dead animal bleeding all over it

Eventually your boss called you into their office one day and told you that you had to take care of Lucci now as the last person who was qualified enough to deal with him had quit the day before as they claimed to just not be able to handle it anymore

You were scared as that leopard seemed completely willing to rip your face off the first chance that it got but you were reassured that they’d be waiting with tranquilizer should Lucci even show signs of trying to rip you to shreds

The next day, you said your prayers and got ready for what was probably going to be a painful death by leopard as you went in to clean his enclosure and feed him but as soon as you were inside even though Lucci was right there and still watching you

He never made a single move to try and hurt you in any way, he just followed you around the enclosure staring at you and occasionally rubbing up against you like he was trying to get his scent on you but for the most part, he would simply just hang around and watch you whether it be from the trees or the ground

Lucci was chiller than you thought he was as he even let you pet the top of his head although now that you were closer, you were able to see that he had some pretty bad scarring on his back which the zoo claimed that he’s had since he was a cub

Time passed and you found yourself kind of becoming more calm with Lucci around as you felt weirdly safe whenever you were inside of his enclosure, he never made a move to hurt you after all and the weirdest thing that he did was attempt to push you into his den when you tried to clean it up a little

He was a good animal although he did seem to have a heavy dislike of whenever you left, you felt like you would just be able to chill with him as he didn’t even seem to mind it when you would pet him like he was a house cat and in fact he even seemed to enjoy whenever you would pet him

It was pretty good in reducing your stress and making your mental health better but what really made your mental health better was when the last gift from your stalker showed up in your locker as it wasn’t a dead animal and instead was a note saying that this would be the last thing that he left for you

The contents of the note then went on to ramble about these odd fantasy creatures called Animal Shifters, people who could turn themselves into animals and have the exact same abilities as them while keeping human levels of intelligence and even being smarter than humans as well

The note even spoke about how Animal Shifters prefer to use more animal methods of courting their mates and that they usually take human mates that they turn into Animal Shifters just like them so they can stay together forever

Knowing that the gifts were ending was a gigantic relief for you but also knowing that you would soon be safe with nothing to worry about anymore was even more relieving as your stalker finally seemed to be leaving you alone and exactly that happened as there were no more gifts and no more signs of your stalker

Life could finally return to normal and it did as your mental health improved and you no longer needed to carry pepper spray on you, you were free to just live your life working at the zoo

About a month later though, your boss called you telling you that they forgot to file some paperwork at the zoo and they could really use your help. You were reluctant at first but you soon agreed and got dressed before heading out in the middle of the night to go and assist your boss

There wasn’t that much paperwork and you being there was helpful although you remembered that you had forgotten something too so you told your boss that you would be right back and you walked out into the zoo to take care of the thing that you forgot 

It was a simple thing and you finished it in under a minute but when you were heading back, you saw something as it looked like a person and you assumed that it was just some teenager breaking in to cause trouble as you had that problem in the past

So you shone a flashlight on them to scare them off only to gasp in shock and horror as you immediately recognized who you saw, it was the man who kept appearing and disappearing at the zoo. The guy who always showed up in the suits

He was here and he was staring directly at you with an unreadable expression, your entire body was shaking and you didn’t know what to do but when he suddenly rushed at you, you found it in yourself to at least scream before he knocked you unconscious

When you woke up, you found yourself in a very odd situation as you were sitting in a familiar place with all of your clothes removed from your body like you were completely naked and you thought that everything would be ok until you saw the man nearby

He was naked just like you were and he was sitting just watching you like he was waiting for you to wake up, he was terrifying as there was no way that you would be able to fight him and he knew that you were awake so you tried to call out for help but it didn’t work

And when you noticed that you were in Lucci’s enclosure, you tried to call out for him to help you hoping that he would rip this man limb from limb and save you but he never came and the man simply grinned at you like you were funny

“No need to call out my name so loudly just yet… I haven’t even done anything…”

You were confused but then you saw the more animalistic aspects to him, a pair of fluffy leopard ears sprouting from his head and a long leopard tail stretching out behind him

It was unbelievable to you but it was all too real especially when you saw the parts move, you were in disbelief but then you remembered the note… Animal Shifters…

You thought back to everything that had happened and realized that Animal Shifters were real and this was Lucci, the leopard at the zoo and he had been trying to court you with all of the dead animals left in your locker

Attempting to speak did absolutely nothing as Lucci quickly pounced you, he put himself in between your legs as he moved them with his hands to wrap around his waist while he bit into you neck with his teeth in a way that you were sure was going to leave scarring

“I’m going to make you purr for me, you’re my mate and it’s breeding season…”

That made your heart sink and although you tried to protest, nothing came of it and it started a passionate night in the zoo as Lucci began to fuck you senseless inside of his enclosure

Any time that you tried to do something, he would growl at you and bite you again to ensure that you would remain submissive and obedient to him so he could do whatever he liked with you

He almost seemed intent on fucking you against every surface in his enclosure that wasn’t his den as he even fucked you against the glass that kept him from attacking guests looking into his enclosure, he never seemed to get tired either as he barely had sweat on him while you were covered in sweat and crying out from overstimulation

His cock was even stretching you as he pounded into you, you swore that his dick would leave a permanent imprint on your pussy after this but he didn’t seem to care about any of that

No matter what as well, he never cummed on you as every last time that he hit his climax. He always made sure to do it deep inside of your body and you already felt full from how much cum he had dumped into your body

Eventually though you began to feel different specifically around the area that he had bit you originally and although you didn’t think much of it at first as you were far too focused instead of what he was doing to you and it was impossible to take your attention away from it until you saw that you had fur spreading over your body

And it wasn’t just any random animal fur as it was leopard fur…

You were turning into a leopard! Lucci’s bite was turning you into a leopard just like him! You were becoming an animal shifter!

There wasn’t anything that you could do about it though as no matter how hard you tried to get away, it never worked and Lucci would simply bite you again and make the transformation into a leopard much faster

Soon enough you looked like a leopard-human hybrid and Lucci transformed to match, he became a lot rougher when you reached this stage especially considering the size difference between you and him now as he became a lot bigger than you in his hybrid form while you stayed normal sized

You almost felt like he was using you as a sex toy with how rough he was but he kept telling you that you were his mate and that you weren’t going to be able to leave him especially not now and not with his cubs in your belly or your slick covering his cock

It wasn’t too long after that though that you found yourself completely turning into a leopard form with him transforming to match, it was only now though that he dragged you back to his den where he mounted you and fucked you one last time but this time, it felt more like he was actually trying to take your pleasure into account

It was almost like he was legitimately making love to you now that you were far too exhausted to do anything to fight against him, you just moaned and acted submissive to him which he enjoyed

Once it was finally over, he didn’t pull out and simply curled up with you inside of his den with his cock still buried deep inside of your pussy and his tongue grooming the areas that he had bitten you

After that, you were never able to get away from him as although the zoo did question where you had come from. They weren’t able to get anywhere near you as Lucci would guard you from anyone who would come into the enclosure and it wasn’t like they could understand you either as you were just a leopard to them

You weren’t their co-worker anymore and instead you were Lucci’s mate who he made sure was well taken of as he would give you the best parts of the meat that would be given to the both of you and he would even give you more than him

You tried to keep hope that you could escape from this fate and live as a normal human again instead of living a life as an animal shifter but you soon found out why Lucci kept giving you more food than him and also why he kept giving you the best parts too

Lucci did say that it say that it was breeding season after all when he turned you…

#male yandere #yandere lucci #yandere smut #yandere one piece #reader insert #reader insert smut #read the trigger warnings #minors dni #Animal Shifter AU

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Hades with gender-neutral!Muichiro!reader headcanons

warning: manga/anime spoilers, ooc

Special thanks to @justamegafan for the idea on this concept and @deathmetalunicorn1 as well as @enryegotrip​ for their feedback on it and where I could improve on it! :) 

When Hades had learned that there was a prodigy amongst the ranks of the Hashira, he had been initially impressed. Ubuyashiki had designed the selection exams very carefully: in the past, the candidate had to accumulate a kill count of 50 demons or slay a member of the Upper Moon ranked demons. The requirements have now changed; the candidate must kill 70 demons plus two letters of recommendation from different Hashiras or slaughter one powerful demon while in the Bifrost and bring back proof to headquarters. 

The stakes had been raised significantly, yes, though the lord of the underworld wanted the best warriors of this organization to ensure that no demons slithered their way into Valhalla and feast on the humans or gods. The heavens could not afford to survive another major catastrophe on the scales of the Titanomachy. 

Hades had no doubt that the Titans and the other prisoners in Tartarus would take advantage of the chaos too, but that will be his responsibility to handle. The Demon Slayers will only be in charge of monitoring the Bifrost and demon extermination, nothing more. 

Upon meeting the prodigy in person, Hades was…slightly disturbed at seeing a child no older than fourteen summers kneeling on the floor at Ubuyashiki’s left side, staring at him with a bored expression and dressed in the standard Demon Slayer’s uniform. The head of the organization reassured him that this is not a joke, as [First Name] [Last Name] have proven themselves to be worthy of being a Hashira. 

Still…this little one became the Mist Hashira two months after picking up a sword, right after passing the Final Selection Exam? The leaps and bounds that they made…it was unusual. Hades had seen and heard many demigods become powerful in such a short time span…yet that should not happen to a mortal soul. 

What drove this child to even become a Hashira? What was their goal? When Hades asked them this question, all they said was to kill every last demon that dared to try to come into Valhalla. And protect Master Ubuyashiki. Protecting him and his family was a top priority to the Hashiras.  

Hades raised an eyebrow at them before glancing at the smiling man. “Are you absolutely sure that you want this child to monitor the Bifrost? It is not a playground nor a post to be taken lightly -”

“Shaddup.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said ‘shaddup’. Do you really think the Master would risk sending the Demon Slayers to the front lines if he hadn’t considered every possible option? The Master might have upped the requirements to become a Hashira, but he knows us better than a puppeteer who lurks in the shadows. If he didn’t believe I was ready, even when I fulfilled the necessary requirements, he would have said so.” Their face remained neutral but their tone steadily grew darker with anger. “Do not treat Lord Ubuyashiki as if he is your subordinate. He is your equal. Without him, you would not have us to ensure Valhalla’s protection nor have the knowledge to kill demons. You and the other gods would still be scrambling for a half-assed solution, putting everyone in danger due to your incompetence -” 

“[First Name], that is enough.” 

Hades was speechless at the mortal’s blatant disrespect towards him, a god, and shocked as to how they immediately went silent at Ubuyashiki’s soft command. The family head apologized for his subordinate’s actions, as it is his responsibility to look after the children. He will punish them as seen fit. 

His words satisfied Hades’ bubbling anger, knowing Kagaya was a competent leader. Their meeting soon concluded, and a guard escorted them back to Valhalla. Left alone in the audience chamber, the lord of the underworld pondered on the events that just happened. He is curious by nature, and he is curious about the Mist Hashira’s behavior towards him. 

Did they simply dislike him? Or did they dislike all gods? Perhaps…they are just rude to anyone who wasn’t Ubuyashiki? Hades hummed thoughtfully to himself. He would look into it. There had to be a reason why a disrespectful  brat like that became a Hashira. 

Over the next several years, the lord of the underworld continued to meet with Ubuyashiki as the Demon Slayer Corps flourished secretly in Valhalla. Kakushi were dispatched to gather intel on demon sightings, and the Hashira would go and exterminate them. Those individuals who were the lower ranks would also assist in such cases via communications with a crow messenger. 

At every meeting, he saw the Mist Hashira amongst the summoned soldiers with a dreamy-eyed expression on their face as they stared up at the clouds, not paying attention to their surroundings…or so it seemed. Hades tried to speak to them, but they had no interest whatsoever unless Ubuyashiki gently nudged them into his direction, if at least to be polite. 

One day after a conference had been concluded, the mortal asked him to stay so that they could have a private conversation. Once his children closed the paper doors behind them, the family head spoke to him.

He addressed the lord of the underworld, thanking him for his time and support in the organization’s growth. The Hashira were all unique, originating from different circumstances and all talented in their own way. [First Name] is no exception…though perhaps he might have been too soft on the Mist Hashira.

After all, it was he and his wife who found them that day in the mountains…the remaining descendants of a Demon Slayer’s bloodline. 

[First Name] and their older twin brother, Yuichiro, had lived a simple life as the children of a woodcutter and his wife until their untimely passing. The Ubuyashiki knew their true lineage, and offered help more than once. Yuichiro kept rejecting them. When his wife, Amane, had gone to check on them with food and medicine with their daughters, they stumbled upon the sight of the twins drowning in blood. Yuichiro was already dead, [First Name] barely hung on by a mere thread as his family worked quickly to save their life. In doing so, they lost their memory of who they were. 

Ubuyashiki had faith that they would remember though. Memories cannot be reclaimed in a single night, of course. Their mindset, however, mustn’t be inflexible. They still need to learn from others, understand people. By doing so, they will relearn empathy and kindness. Perhaps…they could become the kind, gentle person they once were, even if it cannot bring back their brother. 

Hades’ anger towards the brat evaporated as their tragic tale rang in his mind. He knew better than anyone just how many mortal souls came to his kingdom or Valhalla, wailing their lamentations and how they wished they should have changed their fates before death came to claim them. [First Name] had his sympathies. 

Perhaps…he’ll try to be a little more understanding himself. Persephone always told him the best way to apologize is with flowers, because their language could speak to the receiver in more ways than one. 

Bonus Content:

[First Name] was extremely confused as to why the lord of the underworld suddenly gave them a white tulip out of the blue and had to ask Shinobu the meaning behind it. When learning it meant a roundabout way of saying “I am sorry”, they just looked at the flower.

Why was Hades sorry? Had they met somewhere before?

Taglist:

@mortemorii

@myrisan-melodies

@nunezs-stuff

@praisethesuuun

@puffy-bangs

@onecantsimply

@thatstrangesheep

@zodiacs-web

@potato-studez-hungryformore

@themoonisrising

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@seii-fantasy

@enryegotrip

@justamegafan

@dance-till-the-death

@zebralover

@sarcastic-cookie

#muichiro!reader #ror hades x reader #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv x reader #ror x reader #snv hades #snv hades x reader #platonic headcanons #an idyllic novelist

[littlemisspascal]

Rockford & Roan Pt. 4

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count:2.8k

Summary:  “Do you doubt our match, Miss Roan?” he asks, and it’s a shocking enough question you legitimately can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But if he is being serious…

Rating: T 

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding, references of dead bodies + suicide, police, HTTYD reference, scars

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford. Reader is mentioned to have hair

Author Note: Thank you so so much for all the kind support 💗

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Series Masterlist

The Case

You take possession of one of Rockford’s spare notebooks, yellow and spiral bound, scribbling down details about the case he’s been asked by the police to help investigate.

7 suicides over the past 8 months 

Unsure why the brief lapse during the third month

Perhaps to throw police off potential trail?

Victims are all different ages, backgrounds, careers

Also found dead in different locations across Fox Leap—alleyways, parking lots, isolated spots

No witnesses

No suicide notes left behind 

Single commonality: all died by ingesting a cyanide pill

Suspects? None

Police aren’t convinced deaths are connected 

Rockford is certain they are

I don’t know what to think

The Invitation

Friday evening finds you job hunting across the internet from the comfort of the couch. It’s another one of the steps of Dr. Odair’s grand therapy plan to reintegrate you into society. Of course, what she failed to mention was that the potential career opportunities for ex-military empaths are few and far between. You lean back against the cushion, resisting the urge to grab your mug of tea and pour it onto your laptop. It’s not the computer’s fault there’s a prejudice against those with mind-gifts after all. 

The squeaks of Banjo’s stuffed toy pull your attention towards the dog rolling around on the floor, his beloved plush panda Bamboo held between his paws, teeth gnawing at its leg. Rockford lies stretched out on the white rug nearby, eyes closed, the picture perfect example of tranquility. He isn’t sleeping—you can tell by the tapping of his fingers against his stomach, a song only he knows—but it’s nice to pretend. For all that you’ve pestered him with questions about his job and for all that Rockford has patiently answered each one without even the tiniest thrum of irritation, his bizarre, seemingly nonexistent sleeping schedule is a topic you’ve yet to broach with him. 

Brown eyes snap open, startling you so badly it’s a miracle your laptop isn’t sent crashing to the floor. Before you can ask what’s wrong, Rockford’s on his feet and stalking off down the hallway in a blur. You blink, caught off guard, and exchange a look with an equally bewildered Banjo. Should you follow after him or…?

A knock on the front door makes the decision for you.

The prospect of a guest sends Banjo into a tizzy, ditching Bamboo without remorse, tail wagging so fast it’s a wonder it doesn’t fly off. You can’t exactly blame him. Other than a quick visit from the landlady to give you your own set of keys and introduce herself— Professor Rosasharn Claremont, an instructor of forensic sciences at the local university with prehensile hair she used to slap the back of Rockford’s head for not visiting her enough—nobody’s knocked on the door as long as you’ve lived here.

You’re not sure who’s brain function shorts out first when you open the door: yours or the unknown man wearing a police badge on his belt. He’s middle-aged, dirty blond hair, a scar twisting along in a distorted line from the left side of his mouth to his ear. A hideous mark, but at the same time intriguing in its uniqueness. You can’t help but think how if it was copied onto the right side, it’d almost look like some kind of villainous grin.

Banjo’s attempt of squeezing between your leg and the doorway to get a good sniff of the man is enough to jumpstart you back into motion. Nudging him away with your socked foot, you tell him to return to his bed, punctuating the command with a firm point of your finger. Only once he sullenly pads away, ears drooped as if you’ve just gutted Bamboo right in front of him with a butcher knife, do you turn back to face the policeman, who appears to have also gotten over his initial surprise.

“Can I help you, officer?”

“Inspector,” he corrects with an accent you can’t quite place, almost like a rumbling sort of growl, but despite the harsh sound his tone is polite as he introduces himself. “Inspector Dorrance with the Fox Leap Police Department. I’m here for Tim Rockford.”

His emotions are almost unnaturally steady, like he’s got the internal parts of a clock ticking away rather than temperamental hormones. You figure he must’ve gone through some sort of training course for mood management. Smart. A lawman with a high pressure job, anger issues, and a loaded gun is a disaster waiting to happen.

“Oh, is this about the case?” you ask with far more perkiness in your voice than you intend. 

“He told you about that, did he,” Inspector Dorrance says in the exact same instant that Rockford calls out from the depths of the apartment, “Get to the point why you’re here, Kez.”

Kez? You mouth to yourself before opening the door wider, inviting the inspector to step inside. He isn’t subtle as he looks around, gaze lingering noticeably on the few personal items of yours spread throughout the room, before he turns towards the hall.

“Another body’s been found. Abandoned warehouse near the wharf.”

“And?” Rockford asks, still out of view. 

Dorrance side-eyes you, clearly debating with himself the legalities of discussing an open case with a civilian present. A civilian he clearly knew nothing about as of two minutes ago. You offer up only silence in response, too curious for your own good to leave without him directly asking.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Your roommate emerges from his office, his trench coat gripped in one hand and mouth fixed in an unimpressed frown. He gestures between you and the inspector. “Kez, my current roommate and match, Roan. Roan, my ex-roommate and one of the only competent members of law enforcement in the city, Keziah. Can we get back to the victim now?”

Your eyes widen. Ex-roommate? How long have they known each other? There’s definitely a story there. 

“I’m sorry,” Dorrance begins, “did you just say she’s your match? When the hell were you going to tell me this happened?”

“Apparently not,” Rockford mutters. “I was going to tell you when it came up. And it just did.”

“You—” Dorrance cuts himself off with a sharp exhale through his nose.

It really is a credit to Dorrance’s mood management training his emotions don’t even so much as dip or catch fire. Instead, he shoots Rockford a look that plainly says, We’re going to be talking about this later, and then turns to face you once more.

“I wish we were meeting on better circumstances. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you since you’re his match that underneath this—” he gestures vaguely at Rockford which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You just gestured to all of me.”

Dorrance carries on, unbothered, “—is a giant question mark nobody will ever find the answer to. But if I were to bet on anyone coming close, I’d put my money on you.”

“Thank you, I think,” you say, daring a quick glance at Rockford’s face, which you’re pleased to notice has softened the tiniest bit. “You’ll be the first one I tell if I do.”

For whatever reason, your answer has the inspector immediately smirking, left side of his face stretched tight due to the scar tissue.

“Kez, in addition to being a recurring pain in my side,” Rockford explains, sensing your confusion, “is also a lie detector. Any hint of dishonesty and his gift’ll catch it. Makes him handy in the interrogation room.”

Gifts can be interesting like that sometimes, lining up perfectly with a specific job. A singer with the ability to alter their voice to any pitch, a fireman with an immunity to burns, a veterinarian who can speak to animals–you’ve seen them all. Human lie detector is a new one though, you’ll admit.

Dorrance shoves a hand into his pocket, fishing out his phone vibrating with an incoming text. He scans the message, smirk wiped off his face and replaced with grimness. 

“Right, back to the reason I came over,” he says briskly, tucking his cell away again. “You know how the victims never leave notes?”

“Yes.” Rockford’s listening attentively, eyes narrowed. “What of it?”

“This one did.”

Rockford’s expression doesn’t change, not even a twitch of his brow. His mind though, oh his mind’s the calm before the storm. Something’s beginning to stir awake underneath the surface. Tempted by the reveal, hungry for more details to dig its teeth into. 

For weeks you’ve wondered about the depths unknown to your empathy, about what lurks there. You’ve got a distinct, icy certainty crawling up your spine you’re soon to discover another side of your match previously unseen. 

“Will you come to the scene?” Dorrance asks hopefully.

“Of course. No point sitting at home when there’s an exciting development going on.” Rockford begins slipping his arms through the sleeves of his trench coat, adjusting the collar to his liking. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been down to the wharf.”

“Just try not to piss off anyone, will you? One dead body is enough to deal with as it is.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Rockford says with a wry grin. Then, turning to you, he arches an eyebrow, “Well, Roan, you got any plans this evening?”

You think of your laptop back on the couch, numerous job sites still left to be checked. 

“Uh, no,” you answer, shaking your head. “Not really.”

“Roan was in the military,” your roommate tells the inspector, but his eyes remain held on your face, a speculating glint in them that has you subconsciously straightening up. Almost as if you’re standing at attention. “You saw a lot of violent deaths, didn’t you?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Witnessed several dangerous situations?”

“Worst of the worst. Stuff of pure nightmares.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, becoming heavier. There’s a crime scene needing to be examined, a case to be closed, and yet everything seems to have slowed down all at once. As if the very air itself has frozen solid. And you realize you’re holding your breath, waiting for something.

“Want to see some more?”

An invitation.

Dr. Odair’s been telling you now that you’ve matched and your mind-gift has become more manageable, it’s time to pick up some hobbies. To go out to more places for fun other than just the library and dog park. No doubt she was probably thinking of safe and relaxing options like chess or badminton or pottery classes at the rec center.

The problem though, is that safe and relaxing doesn’t spark a wildfire in your blood, bringing you back to the days where you had a clear purpose to fulfill and problems to deal with head-on. You want another adventure, and here’s one dangling right in front of you, just waiting for you to say—

“Hell yes,” you blurt out, and even without your mind-gift you can tell Rockford’s happy with your choice by the half curl of his mouth and crinkling around his eyes as he asks Dorrance for the address.

The Doubt

Rockford holds the cab door open for you, sliding in after you’ve settled against the plush seat with Banjo secure in your lap. The little mutt’s tail beats a rhythm against your jacket, excited about the trip even if he has no clue the final destination. You’re still not convinced bringing a dog of all creatures to an active crime scene investigation is the wisest move, but let the record show your roommate has a helluva weakness for Banjo’s puppy eyes. 

“Keziah’s team of imbeciles disguised as CSIs are wreaking havoc on the scene as we speak. I highly doubt there’s much more damage Banjo can cause,” Rockford had said with an amused look when you voiced your concern. “Besides, no man left behind. Isn’t that the military creed?”

And well, he wasn’t wrong about that. (Not to mention, you’ve got a pretty big weakness for Banjo’s sweet brown eyes too…)

The drive to the wharf is brief without too much annoying traffic. Outside, the sun’s dipped out of sight and darkness is enveloping the city, street lights blinking on. Inside, it’s quiet except for a country song playing lowly on the radio. The cabbie’s mood is easygoing if not a little bogged down by exhaustion whereas Banjo’s is a bouncy spring of enthusiasm, nose practically pressed against the window as his eyes struggle to keep up with all the sights rolling past. Still, as entertaining as the pup’s emotions are, your mind-gift continues circling back to the man sitting next you like a homing pigeon.

Nothing’s changed within his mindscape during the journey. The calm, almost eerie stillness from before is still in effect. You can tell he’s thinking about something—the man’s never not thinking—but whatever it is clouding his gaze, furrowing his brow, is not disturbing enough to imprint upon your empathy. It’s moments like this one where you wish you were a mind reader, if only for a few seconds. 

“We’re here,” Rockford announces, paying the cabbie his fare.

Scrambling out of the vehicle, you set Banjo down on the ground. While he performs a full-bodied shake, you take in the cluster of police cars and flashing lights and abundance of barricade tape surrounding a warehouse, derelict and foreboding, along the waterfront. The press have also caught wind of the scene, prowling around with their microphones and cameras like vultures. You swallow, subconsciously twisting the leash around your fingers.

You’d wanted an adventure and yet…this is all so very, very different from a battlefield. It’s a whole other form of organized chaos, and it’s terrifying not having the slightest clue how to safely navigate it. 

Your initial fears were misplaced. It won’t be Banjo making a mess. It will be you.

Rockford starts forward, clearly eager to get to work, only to halt after five steps when you fail to follow. He turns around to look you over from head to toe, carefully nudging at your mind-gift as he does so, confusion only deepening when he fails to understand your lack of movement. “Is something the matter?”

You bite your lip, glancing nervously once more between the hive of activity and his steady brown eyes. “I don’t think I belong here.”

Rockford stares at you, the glow of the street light illuminating one side of his face. 

“Do you doubt our match, Miss Roan?” he asks, and it’s a shocking enough question you legitimately can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But if he is being serious…

Your head’s already shaking aggressively before a response forms. “N-no, absolutely not!” you say hastily, frantic to assure him of the truth. You close the gap of distance, hoping somehow being closer will remedy the spiraling situation, but when that doesn’t smoothen out the wrinkles on his forehead your empathy reacts by hurling a tangled ball of loyalty-friendship-safety-contentment straight at him. The most desperate of Hail Mary plays.

Rockford sucks in a breath. You watch his expression spasm, knocked off-kilter, before it settles into something as exasperated as it is fond. This time, the nudge against your mind-gift is firmer, the only warning you get before the ball you’d thrown returns and smacks you square in the chest. 

“Oh,” is your immediate reaction, breathless from the intensity.

What was it he had said before? You and him are two halves of the same whole.

And then there’s a warm hand on top of your head, gentle, affectionate, and you’re breathless for an entirely different reason. You blink up at Rockford, heart thudding in your chest.

“That’s right. You,” he says slowly, purposefully, “belong anywhere I am. Banjo, too.”

Banjo woofs, baring his teeth in a snaggletoothed grin, and you’d chuckle at that if you had any air left in your lungs. Not for the first time, you cannot help but marvel at your match’s realness. There’s no such thing as perfection, but you think he comes pretty damn close. 

“Now you’ve done it,” you aim for humor, but you can’t shake the wobble from your voice. “You'll never know a moment’s peace again.”

“Ah, peace is overrated,” Rockford declares with an unconcerned shrug, hand returning to the pocket of his trench coat. “So, we’re in agreement then. We’re stuck with each other.”

“Mhmm, no take backsies.”

You needed this moment, this reassurance. The doubts you hadn’t even known you carried have been firmly put to rest, vanquished by the proof he values the soulbond tying your lives together just as much as you do. 

But despite the importance of this conversation you can’t keep ignoring the flashing lights up ahead forever. Your eyes slide past Rockford, spotting Inspector Dorrance in his grey suit amongst the sea of navy uniformed officers gesturing with his arms.

“Ultimately, it’s your choice where you go,” Rockford says, and it’s clear he’s made up his own mind by the way he turns away from you, resuming his walk towards the scene. 

You watch the dramatic flaring of the bottom of his coat with each step, watch the tapping of his fingers against his left thigh, watch as the man tosses one last remark over his shoulder:

“Keep up, Roan. We both know you’re coming with me.”

By the time he reaches the barricade tape, you and Banjo are right by his side. Exactly where you both belong.

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x ofc #tim rockford fanfiction #pedrostories #my writing #my fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[sirthisisa-wendys]

I'll be patiently waiting for the alpha keizo fic👀❤️❤️ lol

Doing it RIGHT NOWWWWW

Little One (Part 1): Alpha!Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.6k

tw: omegaverse!, smut

masterlist

"Your scent glands are incredibly swollen. Who neglected you like this?" The burly Alpha's fingers swipe over your neck, and your body responds to the touch with a jolt. "I can't believe Omega auctions still exist... and they treat you like meat."

You want to question why the man is so surprised; he bought you from the auctioneers. But now you're sitting on his lap, shivering from the cold... or the fear.

"You paid for me..." you whisper, and he smiles, trailing his fingers down your thighs.

"I did, I did." He seems to be in thought, ice-blue eyes drifting to the ceiling.

"W-what are you going to do with me?"

"I did not buy you to force you into mating with me. Or with anyone, for that matter." Your core loosens a bit. "I bought you to salvage you from the hands of others who would wish such a thing upon you." The bidding had gone upward of three million yen, and you'd been stunned when the giant beside you had outbid everyone with his five-million yen. However, the difference between the salivating crowd and him was his calm demeanor.

"But... you could set me free."

"And have you be recaptured by omega-less packs?" He chuckles, and your stomach leaps at the sound. "No, little one. You can join our pack."

"Do you have a mate?" The question prickles your skin, but the man seems unphased by your apprehension.

"No," you reply, looking down at your lap. "No pack. No mate. No pups." When your eyes look up at him, he nods solemnly. You catch the whisper of a scar on his neck - right where his scent gland should be - and reach out to touch it. "What--"

He smiles sadly at you, then shakes his head. "Nothing you need to worry about. Are you sleepy, y/n?"

Even though your scent glands drive you insane and you want to sleep, you attempt to refute his question with a simple statement. But your "no" is replaced with the Alpha's hands holding your head against his chest, where muscles are bundled into pectorals. "Shh, shh..." Then a soft rumbling sound emits from his chest. You slump into his frame, feeling the soothing effect sink into your bones.

"What... what's your name?" you murmur drowsily, trying to blink away the grips of sleep.

"Keizo," the Alpha replies softly, stroking your hair. "Just relax, y/n. Get some rest."

You shoot up from the bed in shock, holding your chest as you recover from a nightmare. Sweat rolls down your spine, and your breath can't seem to come fast enough, but the light in the corner gives you something to focus on.

Other than the Alpha peering at you while sitting in a leather recliner.

"Bad dream?" Keizo wonders, sitting his book down and getting up. You still attempt to catch your breath while he approaches you, wiping your hair from your forehead and sniffing. Keizo climbs into the bed beside you, watching your face for signs of distress.

"Yeah. I'm okay." This is your usual arrangement - Keizo reads out loud until you fall asleep, lulling you into dreamland with his sonorous voice. Once you fall asleep, he stays for a while to ensure you're fully settled and then leaves but lets the small lamp in the corner remain on in case you need to get up for anything.

You suppose you hadn't been asleep long when you awoke from your nightmare, but Keizo doesn't seem to mind. In fact, for the past month, he'd been overly caring. Nights weren't so hard anymore, but if you had a bad dream, he'd lull you back to sleep with a few minutes of talking and holding you close.

"How long has it been since you've had an Alpha's influence?" he'd asked one evening, his fingers moving across your back tenderly.

"I haven't been around an Alpha since I was a small girl," you admitted. "My parents were cast out of the pack and never rejoined one."

"How long have you been alone?" You closed your eyes, trying to forget the years of foraging, narrowly escaping hungry and savage Alphas and suffering through your heats alone.

"Long enough."

As you lay in Keizo's arms tonight, you know your heat isn't too far away. Somehow, he senses your unease and stops his stroking as you stiffen up. "Talk to me, little one." Your stomach flips as it always does when he calls you 'little one' and you melt into his embrace.

"My heat is coming soon."

"I can smell it," Keizo notes, nodding. "It's very close."

"I..." You pause, frowning. "I'm scared."

"Don't be," Keizo whispers, resuming his gentle touches. "I'll be here to help you through it."

"I've always been alone through my heat," you breathe. "I was always--"

"That was then. You don't have to worry anymore, little one. I'm here now."

But you don't really understand how an Alpha could help you through something he'd never been through. And as the symptoms of your heat begin to manifest, you begin to build your first nest. It's in the corner of your room and composed chiefly of pillows, blankets, and one of Keizo's thieved t-shirts (hidden at the bottom so he couldn't see it during his stays in the room).

But all of the preparation falls by the wayside when your heat builds to its crest, making you weak in the knees and foggy-headed. "This is different," you say to no one but yourself, looking between your legs and noticing the slick smeared against your thighs. "This isn't... the same..." You frown, standing up and making your way toward your door as if you were in a dream: light steps, slow movements, and thoughts of only one thing: Keizo.

"Keizo," you call out, shuffling down the stairs. "Keizo, can you help me?"

"I can," he replies, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. "What do you--" You see the look on his face change from concern to something less confused as you get near him. He blinks once, then steps back, holding his hand up to stop you.

"Keizo?"

"Little one, stop there." You hold onto the stairwell carefully, inhaling his scent deeply.

"Keizo, I need--"

"Go back upstairs and nest for me. I'll bring you something to eat soon."

"I'm not hungry," you insist, taking another step. "I need you." Keizo flinches, stepping back.

"I said I wouldn't forcibly mate with you," he whispers, gritting his teeth. "I will keep my word." Mate. Your fingers slip down the railing a little more.

"Not forcibly," you feel your lips utter. "Not against my will." Keizo seems to be unraveling before you, his body tensing as he nods twice. "But what if I asked you?" Keizo's blue eyes dart away, but you see his natural reaction in his sweatpants.

"Please, little one," he begs you, clenching his fists. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you reply, quickly closing the gap between you. Keizo stands before you, shaking as he attempts to maintain his self-control. "I need you, Alpha." He breaks instantly, grabbing your face and kissing you roughly. You tangle with him, helping him take his shirt off, then assisting him with his pants. Keizo takes no time ripping your clothes from you, leaving them behind as he presses you to the wall, lifting you into his strong arms.

Your fingers dance along the swirling patterns on his chest and arms, but his fingers probe your entrance and distract you from your musings. They dance around in your slick and swipe at your clit feverishly, urging you to breathe Keizo’s name over and over again.

“I need you,” you mutter, and Keizo litters kisses and pecks down your neck and face, marking you as his. “I need you.”

“I’m right here,” he pants eagerly. “I’ve got you.” His cockhead swipes at your entrance and presses against it, easing into you without pain.

“I’ve only ever felt painful heats,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “This is different.”

“It’s not a dry heat,” Keizo murmurs, sinking into you more. “This is a real heat.” You gasp when he pushes his entire length into you, opening your mouth to take in whatever air you can while he presses his forehead against yours, shaking feverishly. “Tell me if it hurts, little one.”

“Keep going,” you urge, feeling your back scrape against the wall. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah,” Keizo whimpers. “You do too.”

You never thought you’d lose your virginity to an Alpha who purchased you from an Omega auction and that you’d want it. But this… Your breaths mingle in the charged air, groans and moans replacing curse words and sweet nothings. “I’m… I’m…”

“You’re going to cum,” Keizo advises, looking you in the eyes and holding your legs up a little more. “Just let it happen, little one. I’ve got you.” Keizo’s reassurance lets you let go of a deeply-desired release, each pulse around his cock pulling him in a little deeper. Keizo shudders, then his hands tighten around your thighs. “This might hurt a little,” he grunts. “I’m sorry….”

The base of his cock flares up inside of you, stretching your pussy wider as he stills. You shiver around him, and the haze lifts briefly before you feel Keizo peppering your chest with tender kisses. “Oh, god, I’m cumming.” The Alpha’s hips jerk once, twice, and a third before settling down to mini-thrusts, each dumping more seed into you until he stops.

Keizo pulls you away from the wall and holds you in the same position, walking toward the couch in the living room. “I’m going to lay here, and you can rest on top of me until my knot goes down.” You nod, leaning on his bare chest as his breathing slows. “Do you feel alright?”

“I feel better than alright,” you reply softly, eyes glittering closed. “I feel incredible.”

“Good,” Keizo sighs, putting his hand on your head and kissing it. “You’re safe here, little one. Don’t forget that.”

#arashi keizo #arashi keizo smut #arashi keizo x reader #keizo arashi x reader #keizo arashi smut #keizo arashi #benkei smut #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo revengers smut #Tokyo revengers benkei #tokyo revengers omegaverse

[getawayfox]

OMG it’s already January! I’m so very late to this and I have seen so many wonderful lists, but I very much wanted to make my own, so I did. We are so lucky to be spoiled by so many incredible fics – here are some (in no particular order) that grabbed me by the heart and never let go.

💀 draco malfoy’s substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (Draco/Harry, E, 10k)

I HAVE. NO WORDS. In the best possible way. This fic has to be experienced first-hand. E is an insane genius. That’s it, that’s the rec.

🧑🏼‍🍳 Make This Leap by @oflights (Draco/Harry, M, 118k)

Competent Draco and disaster Harry my beloved! This fic is so sweet and lovely and I want to live in it forever.

📩 Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed, @lastontheboat (Draco/Harry, T, 10k)

I laughed SO much reading this! It went straight into the bookmarks and I visit it every so often when I need a pick-me-up. And I swear I discover some new clever detail every time I do! Delightful, hilarious, perfect.

🐥 Robin’s Flufftober 2022 by @rockingrobin69 (Draco/Harry, M, 17,5k)

October was my favourite month because every day we got a dose of soft soft Robin sweetness - a moment of peace and safety every time her name popped on tumblr dashboard. I protect this collection in my bookmarks like the treasure it is.

❣️ Draco Malfory Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (Draco/Harry, E, 18k)

Draco’s voice in this fic! From the very first sentence (no, from the title!) I knew I was in the right hands. What a treat!

🛁 Rubber Drakey by @crazybutgood (Draco/Harry, T, comic)

This fic is an utter delight, creative and clever, adorable and laugh-out-loud funny. This is Draco in his cutest form!

🌞 Look For Me In the Sun by @wolfpants (Draco/Harry, M, 9k)

Obviously a wolfpants fic had to be on this list but which one? *points at the whole catalogue* There is no way to go wrong there, what a year they had! I think I have screamed most about Pages of you (the number of times AO3 tells me I visited that one is embarrassing), Romp and Circumstance, and The Hollow (yes these are links, what of it, no it’s not cheating), so I’m going mention another favourite: Look For Me In The Sun, gorgeously atmospheric, achy, stunningly written.

🦦 Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (Draco/Harry, E, 77k)

This has got to be THE fic this year for me. It’s fitting, because last year it was Nor All That Glisters, which got me into the drarry fandom properly, so of course it’s Sweet who just casually swoops in with another banger that won’t leave my brain, accompanied by the most incredible Joy art. I think this fic had me already at the tags but I was not ready for everything there is to love about the story - it’s impossible to do it justice in just a few short sentences, but if you haven't read it yet, it should be on your list for sure.

💍 Paper Rings by @lettersbyelise (Draco/Harry, E, 50k)

OTP: inevitable. Two timelines, both so exquisitely delivered: eighth-year drarry and grown-up drarry, both times so different and wholesome. This story is everything I love: nuanced, funny, full of pining and history.

🌙 Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (Draco/Harry, M, 15k)

This fic grabbed me and squeezed, and I don’t think I’ve been able to catch my breath since. I’m actually lost for words here because the story makes me feel so much but I haven’t been able to name it yet and maybe that’s okay. It’s the Tacky way of reaching deep down into my feelings and letting me sit with them.

🍋 Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (Draco/Harry, E, 17k)

I think this might be the only time I managed to guess the author when this was still anon (and, well. The genius artist too). Such intimacy and longing, gorgeous food and so many layers to the story.

🌼 He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by @sleepstxtic (Draco/Harry, Draco/Astoria, T, 5k)

I know that the infidelity tag might put some people off, but this is a stunningly written (devastating) Astoria PoV that absolutely clawed at my heart in the best possible way.

🍎 The Wrong Sort by @vukovich (Draco/Harry, not rated)

This fic makes me want to scream even though Vuk came back with a second part that patched up my broken heart. “I didn’t know how else to keep it” will forever be etched into my eyelids. Thank you, Vuk.

🥂 Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (Draco/Harry, E, WIP)

Technically, this counts because Sly started posting in Dec and I’m obsessed! Flirting! Banter! Oblivious Draco! *screams*

#drarry recs #drarry #fic recs #rec list #2022 favorites

[talokanda-forever]

Oh boy.

I intentionally avoided posting any thing about the allegations against Tenoch yesterday because I require time to process information. I needed time to give my brain a rest. This still feels a bit too soon. I will never be one to say Tenoch or anyone else would, "never do something like that." Because I have no idea. I'm hoping that the allegations aren't true. This post is my way of venting. It is in no way meant to persuade anyone else on what they should think or feel about this situation. And certainly not meant to be proof or evidence of why it happened or didn't happen. I don't know. None of us knows.

1. The framing of the dissemination of this information as "news." My biggest issue is that I've seen a lot of Twitter accounts pick up the same link that appears to be the outlet that first brought the Tweet by Maria Elena Rios to light (reforma.com). I don't know what journalistic standards this outlet follows, so I won't speculate. I did check to see if any well-established US outlets had Tweeted anything (Associated Press, Reuters, CNN, MSNBC), and as of roughly 30 min. ago they had not.

So far, all we really have are glorified Retweets, not a news story. There are A LOT of accounts with well designed pages that have all the hallmarks of looking like "official" news organizations, but they are not. It takes virtually no time or effort to Retweet something and start an avalanche. It's a trend that has bothered me for the last decade or so. Journalism requires independently verifying information you have received. It's going to multiple sources to corroborate the information. It's at the very least attempting to reach out to the involved parties to get their statements. It's reviewing public records and court filings to see what has been officially documented. And not to say that WON'T happen at some point, but it sure as hell isn't going to happen within 24 hours. It will take time and we STILL may never know the full story.

2. We should believe victims. ABSOLUTELY! In this particular instance and from this vantage point, Maria is only his accuser. It has not yet been established that she is his victim. I understand that she is a victim involving another individual, and thank goodness she survived that horific attack. However, as it pertains to Tenoch, I don't think interjecting alleged sexual assault in a Tweet focused on a different issue is enough to automatically leap to saying she was absolutely, 100%, without a doubt victimized by Tenoch. If it happened I would hope Maria would take legal action, given she was comfortable enough to make the accusation publicly under her name. Even then, she is not required to do so (which is why I say we may never know what did or didn't happen). I would imagine navigating the justice system in Mexico is no less stressful as navigating the justice system in the US. There are valid reasons for women not subjecting themselves to (potentially) years of legal struggles. But I also hope she wouldn't be so reckless as to throw out an allegation and not allow Tenoch to formally defend himself, assuming he denies these allegations. Once again, something that requires TIME.

3. To all those I have interacted with over the past few months on this site, know that I luv ya! I value our time together here. Regardless of what you've said or haven't said about this situation, that hasn't changed. I'm choosing to reserve judgement because that's how I am and how I will always be. I respect that everyone is not like me (thank God). Like many others, I will suspend posting here because, if for no other reason, I know how to read a fucking room. Let's all be kind and respectful to one another. To those folks who interact with me regularly, don't hesitate to DM me.

#tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta mejia #jose tenoch huerta mejia

[nexusnyx]

will you ever repost your stories? they have always make my days so much better, and in no way do i want to make you feel bad at all because how you feel is the most important always but not having them to read whenever is going to make me so sad

Nah. That'd be a lot of work which I'm not up for it tbh.

But, a lot of my Bucky fics are posted on my ao3 under the Snow and Dirty Rain series.

Movement

Steve points out Bucky's been staring, so Bucky thinks on the reason why, and decides to do something about it.

You Know Me Too Well

(tattoo artist!Bucky) there is a thin line between pain and pleasure. that line is real and palpable, except for the times when you sit in bucky barnes’s table and feel his hands holding your skin. his job demands him to hurt you, but the only problem is that you enjoy it. a lot.

Wasn't Looking

On a night out with his friends, Bucky thinks about how lucky he is and gushes out loud about his girl to anyone willing to hear.

Shallows

dealing with grief was a continuous and unsteady thing. after months of denying the anger inside of him, bucky finally lets go and is able to move on from the sight of his best friend leaving to never come back. by the time you ask him about steve, bucky was ready to smile at the memories, so he ends up taking you to the Smithsonian for an introduction to the real steve rogers.

Please Notice

the habit of sharing your things with your partner never made sense to bucky. he’s seen girls walking around in his t-shirt before and it never did anything to him—until you. you put his dog tags around your neck once and bucky hasn’t known peace since then. seeing you in his tags awakens something in him—something primal, something otherwise unbeknownst to him… and he loved it.

Location: Westview

just when you thought the craziness of the world couldn’t fuck you up even more, your town suffered the unlucky fate of being stuck in an alternate universe because of chaos magic by one of the previous avengers. most of the residents were moving on easily—you still had to live with the aftermath of being brainwashed into believing your siblings are still alive for that long. you never had it easy before in your life, but when sargent bucky barnes sticks around after a meeting for a conversation, maybe your fates are about to change for a bit.

Real Love Song

Bucky surprises you completely with his birthday gift. you’re not sure how you ended up this lucky—how he ended up as yours, but you have to swallow down more than just your moans by the end of his devilish plan.

NFWMB (nobody fucks with my baby)

the familiarity of pain was old to sergeant bucky barnes. he knew it like the back of his hand—metal and flesh kind. never before had he known tenderness while bruised. not before you.

Crawl Home To Her

when bucky finaly returns from his mission, he finds you sleeping in his sofa and the apartment much different than when he left. much prettier, with a touch of home. apparently, while he was away you took his advice to “do what you want with the place, doll” seriously - or as a distraction - and now he got to come home to this. bucky’s heart takes a leap and he stands there for a second, frozen in his spot.

Name Day

you celebrate bucky’s birthday with him and try to make him feel special because his day should be a good one and in the process, discover a lot more about your boyfriend.

Sweet Melody

You surprise Bucky with "40s dance night" right in his apartment after he's handed a couple of hard missions and he could've never imagined to be dancing with a gal he'd want to be with forever.

Say My Name

During a conference, you call your boyfriend by his name and to your surprise, he isn't fond of it.

Main Thing, Baby 🖤

Bucky shows his love by cutting off the crust on your sandwiches, letting you know how pretty you are, regardless of how worn-out you look, by calling you when he’s out drunk with his friends because, or just doing your laundry ‘cause he knows the washing machine hates you. The concept of a safe haven was lost on you until Bucky Barnes walked into your life, wrapped his arms around you and spent his Saturday nights carefully wiping off your make-up before you two go to bed. It’s a beautiful concept to learn.

Miracle, Baby (Series)

initially, bucky barely talks to you. then, he starts teasing you during practice and when you can’t stand the jokes anymore, you bite back. “you’ve got a lot of tips for someone who hasn’t joined me in the rings yet, sargent.”

there’s a round of murmurs from the teammates and bucky’s blue eyes pierce you like an ice castle lifting up around a prey. too bad for barnes, you were a trained widow and held a secret only fury himself knew.

“is that an invitation?” bucky asked.

too late to back down, you decide to show a little of what you can do. the white wolf should be the perfect opponent for that.

I Was a Heathen (Series)

sam had a theory for a while now, but it was torres's comment which made bucky stop and rethink things for a second.

"dude, i heard her." joaquin laughed. "she was talking to shuri and said it with every letter, 'that man doesn't know what he does to me'."

the comment validated sam's theory. bucky knew that because sam was staring at him pointedly and with eyes like that, there was no need for an 'i told you so'.

"i think you forgot how annoyingly handsome you are, sarge." sam offers offhandedly.

Lover, Please Stay (Series)

there’s something distinct about when it’s just the three of you. a softness that hangs in the air, an unspoken language developed from you learning how to read steveandbucky talk. it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever experienced, and the most terrifying as well.

As It Was, Baby (Series) 🖤

Living right across from James Barnes was certainly an experience, but a much different one than most people expect. A neighbour who is respectful, funny and brings you food every now and then is any girl's dream. Too bad you're only his neighbour and nothing else. Or, at least, that's what you thought.

One stormy night changes everything and discovering that you mean more to the Sargent than you expected has life-altering consequences.

Coming In Hot (Series) 🖤

When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be.

Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem.

A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem.

Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

A Touchable Dream (Series) 🖤

Unpredictable, unfair and unreasonable—so far in, that's all Bucky's known life to be. With the exception of his son, nothing has ever inspired consistency or proven to be worthwhile enough for him to fight daily to keep. Going back to University while being a single parent has more than one rough edge. He feels lost, out of place, with a constant itch under his skin.

Then, you arrive like a Comet, daring him to change all his skeptic perceptions.

#usernexusnyx #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky oneshot #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #reblogs are highly appreciated

[mischiefmanaged71]

The Love Hypothesis (1/22) - Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Strange, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors in the university.

A/N: AU! Stephen Strange is a Professor/Doctor at Columbia University and reader is a Ph.D. student (Reader - 28, Stephen - 34). Credits to Ali Hazelwood for the original story. This work is a piece of fiction. I have no ownership over anything, this is ff.

Pairing: Stephen Strange X fem! Reader

Word count: 2K

Masterlist

Two years, Eleven months later

In all honesty, Y/N wasn’t exactly sure what motivated her to take the leap and kiss this man. It was a mere instinctive movement toward the first man in sight upon seeing Natasha walk through those doors at the end of the hall. She was supposed to be on a date, living life and not working on her project on another Friday night. That wasn’t normal, nor was it exactly along the standard procedure of your average 28-year old.

Initially, it was an awkward second before the man adjusted, perfectly understandable given the circumstances of their situation. It became an awkward minute of her pressing onto her tip-toes to reach his face, her hands curved around his neck to press against him. If this wasn’t criteria for the most uncomfortable encounter with a stranger, she was clueless to what would beat it. She pondered if this would even work until he finally responded and the prospect of Natasha possibly believing she was actually on a date with this man could be true.

Soon enough, that agonising moment drifted into something else and the kiss evolved into something...different. The man inhaled sharply and craned his neck down to reach her, his cold hands meeting her waist. It was quite nice for the few seconds, until the real prospect of the stranger’s lips pressed against her’s became prominent at the front of her brain. The fact she had barely had the time to whisper, ‘Can I kiss you?’ before she moved in.

Her original plan was to fool Natasha, but soon enough she lost all scape of her thoughts, engrossed in the embrace. The sensation of his hands on her waist and the softness of his lips. One of her hands rested on his defined chest, another hand slowly grasping the hair at the back of his neck. She felt herself sigh, a wonderous feeling clouding her brain as that feeling washed through her body until - No.

She should not be enjoying this as much as she was. Y/N didn’t even know this man’s name. A gasp escaped her as she pulled back and finally got a good look at the man. In the bluish glow of the lab at this late hour, 11:00pm, she flickered around for Natasha. She swore she saw the redhead walking through those doors.

The man she locked lips with just a moment ago stood in front of her - mouth agape in slight shock, eyebrows twisted in confusion, which is when the thought crashed into her of who he was. She would have cursed, but then he would have heard the range of expletives from her mouth. 

Of course, she kissed the most notorious ass at Columbia University - Dr. Stephen Strange. It was just her luck and possibly the universe saying another thing about the type of person she was. Or possibly, something else entirely.

From the rumours, she knew a few things about Dr. Stephen Strange. He was remarkable. Eidetic memory, allowing him to get his M.D and Ph.D. at the same time. He was the top of his class and renowned for failing his students. He was also the reason her roommate, Sam, had to scrap two research projects and would likely graduate one year later. The sole culprit for nearly making students throw up from anxiety. The source of many students leaving their lab crying because they had to delay their projects. Dr. Stephen Strange may be one of the smartest people at Columbia, but that didn’t detract from his daunting hypercritical personality. Within these walls, he was a notoriously moody, obnoxious and critical dick. 

And she had just made out with him in a hallway.

She almost dropped to the floor in anxiety, the silence lasting far longer than it should have. He was the one to break it, standing there in all his 6 ft. glory, with his dark hair and those grey streaks on the side. They should have made him look older, but it rather gave him this edge that she found attractive as his gorgeous blue eyes popped.

Stephen Strange. 

Destroyer of research careers and every biology student’s impending doom.

“Did you...did you just kiss me?” he sounded puzzled and almost out of breath, which confused her for a second. His lips were pink and slightly fuller...those lips that she had just kissed. Her eyes fell shut as she swore internally, the prospect of leaving here without an awkward conversation was miniscule.

“No?”

“Oh, alright then.” he twisted his body around and moved toward the water fountain down the hall, presumably where he was initially headed toward. She thought she off the hook for a moment, until-

“Are you sure?” he twisted back toward her, a smirk on his mouth that struck something in her stomach as her body froze.

“I-” she buried her face in her hands, flushing away from him, “It’s not what it looks like. I swear.”

“Okay,” he replied slowly, “Okay...I-”

His voice was deep and low, almost like he was stowing away his frustration. Or he was on his way to being frustrated. “What’s going on here?”

She pulled her hands away, not entirely sure of what her next move was. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but is it really any of your business?”

“Yes. Of course.” he wore a tilted smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll just go back to my office and work on my Title IX complaint.”

“Yes, right-wait, what?”

He cocked his head, “Title IX is a federal law that protects against sexual misconduct within academic settings-”

“I know what Title IX is.” she replied, staring at him wide-eyed.

“I see. So you wilfully chose to disregard it then.” he pointed out.

“I-what? No, no I did not!” 

Stephen shrugged, “I must be mistaken, then. Someone else must have assaulted me.”

“Assault-I didn’t ‘assault’ you.”

“You kissed me.”

“But not really.”

“Without first securing my consent, might I add.”

“I asked if I could kiss you!” she stared at him, mouth agape.

“And then did so without waiting for my response.”

“What? You said yes.”

“Excuse me?” he leaned down, his lips curving into astonishment.

She straightened her posture, slightly disturbed by his height and sight on her as she flickered back to his eyes. “I asked if I could kiss you and you said yes.”

He crossed his arms against his chest, “Incorrect. You asked if you could kiss me and I snorted.”

Her eyes narrowed, I’m pretty sure I heard you say yes.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow at her, and for a minute, Y/N considered what it would be to drown someone that day. Dr. Strange. Herself. Both were suitable options.

“Listen, I am truly sorry about this-weird situation, but can we just forgot it ever happened?”

He studied her for a moment, his high cheekbones and sculpted face turning into something serious as he looked at her. There was something else there too, not which she could decipher as it morphed into concern? 

She had known he was tall and slightly older than her, but she had never stood in the same room as him, nor this close. The rumours had forgotten to mention the intimidating and gorgeous features the Dr. had.

“Is there something wrong?”

“What?” she shook her head, “No. Why would you think that?”

He huffed, “Well, I suppose kissing a stranger in a lab at this late hour begs to differ.”

“No, there isn’t. There isn’t anything wrong.”

Stephen nodded, moving to walk past her, “Okay. Expect mail in the next few days.”

“You don’t even know my name.” she blurted out, unsure of why that was precisely what she should be concerned about.

“I’m sure anyone could figure it out, given you also had to swipe your badge to gain access to the lab after hours. Goodnight.”

“Wait! Please.” she grasped his hand, a warm flush reaching her wrist until she realised what she did again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-again,”

“The kiss. Explain.” he ordered.

Wide-eyed, she sighed and organised herself. “Natasha Romanoff. The girl who was passing through. She is a graduate student in the biology department.”

“Natasha has...” this is where her face flushed in embarrassment, “I was seeing someone in the department. Steve Rogers, he has blonde hair and works with Dr...Anyway, we only went out a couple of times, and then I brought him to her birthday party, and they sort of hit it off and-” she swallowed her words and shut her eyes. This was probably a bad idea, waving her hand and continuing.

“Long story short, we ended things and he asked Natasha out. Thing is, she said no because of...some code amongst friends and I-I can tell she really likes him. She’s afraid she’ll hurt my feelings or something, despite the number of times I’ve told her it was fine. She won’t believe me.”

“So I lied and said that I was already dating someone else. She’s my closest friend and I’d never seen her so hung up on someone and I want her to have the best-what she deserves and-” realising she was rambling, she inhaled sharply “I told her that I was on a date tonight.”

“Ah.” he finally spoke up.

“Obviously I wasn’t so I decided to work. That panned out pretty well until I saw her walk in. You were the first person I saw and...” she sighed, “I didn’t really think.”

He hadn’t said anything yet.

“I just wanted her to believe that I was on a date. I’m sorry for the confusion.”

“So you kissed the first person you saw? That seems perfectly logical.” he nodded.

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t my best moment.”

“Perhaps.”

“I panicked, alright. I don’t always do well under pressure. Besides, I’m pretty sure Natasha saw us, so hopefully she’ll think we were on a date and she will actually go for Steve-” she shook her head, “Look, I’m really, really sorry about the kiss.”

“Are you?” the sides of his mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Please don’t report me. I really thought I heard you say yes. I didn’t mean to-”

She sighed, the reality of the situation hitting her as she sighed and relinquished the tension from her face, absolving to wear a tired smile. “You know what, you're right. I'm sorry. If you felt harassed in any way, you should report it. It’s only fair...Not that my intentions matter, it’s your perception...” realising the whole she dug for herself, Y/N angled her body to leave.

“I should probably leave now before I make it worse. Thank you, and...I'm sorry, Dr.” spinning on her shoes, she all but ran for the exit.

“Y/N,” she heard him say, “Y/N, wait-”

But she didn’t stop as her feet kept moving toward the stairs leading to the first floor. She rushed through the halls and the past the library toward her dorm room where her roommate would be passed out. 

But once she slumped on her bed, tossing the lab coat from her person did she realise. She never told Dr. Stephen Strange, notorious ass, her name.

TAGS:

@goldencherries @severuined @thewinterpoet2 @pasta-warlord @typical-bistander @captainbarness

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #marvel x reader #marvel #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #the love hypothesis #the love hypothesis au

[sunny-day-dream]

No one asked for this, but I’m having CRAVINGS RN SO-

Fandom: Left 4 Dead

Pairing: Hunter x Reader

Warnings: Stalkerish behaviour, possessiveness

Notes: Just some rambles that I might one day expand since this dumbass has me in a chokehold right now (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

--

This rabid stinky boy has FEELINGS and he doesn’t know what to do with them okay????? He was built for attacking, not thinking thankyouverymuch. It was a miracle in itself that he could even manage a thought, so please don’t judge him too harshly

He’d stumbled upon and stalked you from a city, to a small town, then to another large city before he even realized that he was supposed to be attacking you, not just sniffing around everywhere you’d walked or rolling around in areas that you’d slept. Whoops.

He really didn’t care tbh, but the dull sense of embarrassment that welled up in his chest had his grey face trying to flush despite the virus riddling his body

He was off, different compared to the others, but only after he'd 'met' you. Everything before that moment was one big blur of burning pain and screams and feeling like he was missing something, like he was empty and needed to f i x it

Then you came along, and so did his slight clarity.

He could think when you were around, though it was disjointed in the beginning and he just knew that for some reason, he should be doing something else. Something important. Something like getting h e l p, because he could think- feel- but he didn't know why and it just made him angry.

So he ignored it.

You were important, familiar in a way that confused him- because it was an odd feeling he couldn't name yet, like he should be so very close to you instead of trailing behind. Walking beside you instead of leaping from rooftop to alleyway as he scouted the path he assumed you'd take.

And as time passed, he couldn't find it in himself to stay away- his body always managing to inch closer and closer to you before his mind caught up and stopped him.

He was confused about a lot of things to be honest, but the way he wanted to act around you confused him more than anything else, because he just knew- from some feeling that came from a faint lifetime ago- that it was unnatural and wrong but he just couldn't STOP

Why did he want to fight everything and anything in his path? Why was he so wound up all of the time? So angry at anything that wasn't you?

Why did he keep sniffing around you, hiding little scraps of your blankets and clothing you'd worn underneath his jacket- like he was hording you in your entirety as your scent drifted around him for days?

Why was he herding you away from bigger cities, using other infected to drive you somewhere he somehow k n e w would be quieter? Safer?

Why? Why? Why?

Now that he could think, it was all he could do

When you finally seemed to settle into an old home just far enough from the city to be ‘semi’ safe enough for him, he’d been following you for months. MONTHS. And you hadn’t noticed at all?? Even when he was keeping the other infected away from you and NOT being all that quiet about it????????

Just the other day he'd tackled a crying infected woman down 7 flights of stairs while you were rummaging around the top. And then- THEN you'd just walked by the body like it wasn't a perfectly good meal you could have taken back with you like he'd hoped???? Because if you had, you wouldn't have to go out again for a while and he could be content to just listen to you go about your day in that little house from his spot in the tree near your sleeping area.

He just, finally realises:

'haha look, they're an idiot...'

...

'oh NO, they're an IDIOT'

Congratulations, you now have an overprotective, instinct driven dumbass assuming that his two braincells (and that's being generous) are working harder than your own!

(even though you have 100% noticed him by now, but by this point your daily/nightly routine to keep an eye on him is very lax since he's made no move towards you other than to just...watch. Very intently.)

And okay, he'd absolutely been wanting to go see you up close now that he could focus more- to finally, actually see what you looked like- instead of just relying on the blurred figure he could make out most days with his bad eyesight. But you were oblivious to your surroundings as always, so getting just a little closer couldn't hurt right???

That's how he found himself with his face pressed up against the glass door to your hideout, watching you walk around slowly, intently looking anywhere but in his direction, and he was so content to just smile to himself and admire you as you did so.

Because WOW, seeing you properly had him breathless.

His chest was warm under his oversized jacket, like always when you were around- but it was different now that he could see you properly. Now that he could take in everything that made you...you, and brand it into his fuzzy memory.

He was making happy little noises to himself for awhile before he even realized what he was doing, tampering the sounds into a faint growl as you started making a muffled noise he'd never heard from you before- watching as you bit your lip, his fuzzy sight making out your smile before it was covered by your hand.

He really wanted to touch your face one day, just to see if you were as soft as you looked. Because you did look very soft, like he should have you wrapped up in blankets and hidden away in his tree so no one else could even think about touching you like he wanted to- because they wouldn't know that you had no sense of self preservation, that they'd have to be gentle and careful and- He would know to be careful with his claws, to keep his teeth away from you and bring you all the canned food he could carry because you seemed so happy when you found some-

There he went, making noises again, his chest rumbling away as you walked out of the room and out of his sight.

He was so happy he'd finally gotten to see you clearly, this was the happiest he'd ever felt before...this was all he ever wanted to do from now on.

It was perfect.

-

(The morning you walked out of your bedroom to find all the boards pried off the backdoor you'd meticulously barricaded, you'd just about had a heart attack and pulled your gun out. Because there he was, a very familiar Hunter pressing his face to the door and attempting to give you...maybe a very...unique smile while having his face smooshed against the glass.)

(You didn't shoot him though. Choosing to ignore him just as you had previously, hoping against everything that you'd made the right choice in assuming he was...not harmless exactly, but not a threat to you.)

(especially when he was whimpering and purring away, leaning this way and that to try and keep you in sight at all times)

(Your guard was up though, despite the laughter he'd managed to pry from you with his disgruntled look when he seemed to realise the sounds he was making)

...

(Because how he'd gotten inside the house, pried all the boards off the door, then gotten back outside to watch you like this was a mystery- this guy wasn't quiet or subtle at all from what you'd seen, so how the fuck did he manage that without waking you up??)

(... better yet, had he done it before?)

#l4d #l4d hunter #l4d x reader #left 4 dead #x reader #reader insert #l4d hunter x reader #headcanon #drabble #fanfiction #gn!reader

[fcbfemeni-11]

You’re a winner

Lena Oberdorf

Ellie Royce is playing against her girlfriend, Lena Oberdorf, in the biggest game of her life.

Before the game i had to see Lena, both because i missed her and to settle my nerves that were floating through my body. Me and Lena haven't seen each other in months. She plays for Wolfsburg and i play for Arsenal, but little does she know i'm moving to Wolfsburg. All of the Arsenal girls know, but Lena doesn't..not yet anyway.

When i saw her- When my eyes landed on her beautiful brown eyes i raced towards her, leaping into her arms and holding onto her tightly.

"Hello, my love" Lena said as she looked at me with a huge smile on her face.

"You don't know how much i have missed you" I said, smiling wider than i have in a long time.

"I've missed you too, Royce, but now i'm afraid i must beat you" She winked and i flipped her off.

"Oh it's on, Oberdorf"

"May the best midfielder win, Royce"

"We all know who will win, Obi" I said and she chuckled.

"Whatever you say, now how about a kiss before you go?" She asked and i smiled before kissing her gently.

"See you after, love" I said, running away and joining my team.

"You're so in love" Leah teased as i joined her.

"Shut up"

"You really should have got her to join Arsenal, you know" Leah said, sounding serious and i just laughed, making her look at me sharply.

"Come on, Williamson! That ain't even an option"

"First of all, stop calling people by their second name. Lastly, how do you know it isn't?"

"No, i like calling people by their last name and because i asked her, of course, she is my girlfriend, Williamson, we talk and she just laughed when i brought it up. Arsenal and Obi won't happen, as much as i would like it to"

***

Germany and England both played with everything, every player left their heart and soul out on that pitch today and it showed. The match was tense, and so extremely close, in the end no team deserved to lose, but there can only be one winner and that winner was England.

The final whistle went and i froze, most of the girls ran off in different directions to hug teammates, while others just fell to the ground in tears, but i done none of that, i stood in the middle of the pitch and just looked around, unable to move my feet. I felt, i don't know, guilty? In a way. I've won but at my girlfriends cost. As i scanned the pitch i saw her, i saw Lena and the sight broke me. She was sitting down, with her shirt over her face, clearly crying.

"Ellie! Over here"

"Royce, come celebrate!" I heard a few of the girls shout for me but i couldn't go over. I looked at them before turning around and walking the other way.

"Royce, what are you doing?" I heard Beath ask but i ignored her.

I walked straight over to my girlfriend, ignoring everyone and everything in my path. As soon as i got to her i sat down in front of her and made her look at me.

"My love, i'm so proud of you" I said, placing both hands on the side of her face.

"Yeah?" She asked with a small, weak smile.

"Hell yeah! I, honestly, don't know what to say to you, or how to comfort you, but one thing i will say is you've shown resilience throughout this tournament. Baby, you got to the final and that in itself is something to be proud of. You knocked out France, one of the favourites. And you bet Spain, the favourites. Oh, not to mention you won young player of the tournament" I said and she just kissed me.

"I guess you're the best midfielder after all" Lena said with a slight smirk on her face and i laughed.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that"

"Go and celebrate with your team, you deserve this"

"No" I said, and she looked at me confused.

"No?" She questioned.

"No. If you won you wouldn't leave my side, and i will not leave yours"

"You're the best, but please, for me, celebrate"

"Let me show you something first" I said, pulling her to her feet and dragging her to the touch line.

"What is it?" Lena asked, slightly confused as to why i dragged her off the pitch.

"I've got a surprise" I said, reaching behind one of the seats on the bench and pulling out a green wolfsburg shirt, handing it to Obi.

Obi took it but stared at it, unsure on what it meant.

"A wolfsburg shirt?"

"Not just any Wolfsburg shirt, turn it around" I said and she did, and it didn't take her long to figure it out.

As soon as she saw my name on the back of the shirt she dropped it on the ground and threw herself into my arms, kissing me passionately.

"You better not be bullshitting me" She said, pointing directly at me, and i laughed.

"I promise i'm not"

"Royce, seven" She said with a huge smile on her face.

"Playing alongside her beautiful girlfriend"

"I love you so much, but now go and celebrate" Obi said, pushing me off in the direction of my teammates. But, she told me she loved me, and i couldn't get that out of my mind, we've never said it before.

And i done what she said. I celebrated with my team. We got out medals, lifted the trophy and celebrated with the fans. As the rest of the team went back into the locker room to celebrate i stayed behind, walking over to the german players, looking for one particular player.

"Obi, your girl is here" One of the girls said and Lena, without thinking twice, walked over and placed a passionate kiss on my lips.

"I love you too" I said confidently.

"You do?" She asked with a sparkle in her eye.

"I do" I said, sounding confident as ever.

"Always, huh?" She asked with a smirk.

"Always" I said, smirking back at her.

Me and Lena spent the rest of the night celebrating with our respective teams, and i spent the next few days in England celebrating with the girls before i flew out to Germany to meet my girlfriend.

"I missed you so much" Obi said, lifting me into the air as she found me knocking on her door.

"I missed you too, but i'm here now, and i'm here to stay"

"You're a winner" She whispered.

"Yeah, of course i am, i got you" I winked and she chuckled.

"That was a little cheesy, my love"

"Shut up and kiss me" I said and Lena didn't think twice as she smashed her lips against mine.

I'm at home now. I'm with her. The love of my life.

#lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #lionesses #woso x reader #woso soccer

[stray-kaz]

Paper Ring : a Frank Castle x reader drabble

A/N: This is way out of chronological order, but I wanted to write this because it’s pretty cute of Frank.

Domesticity at its finest. It was kind of hilarious, if you thought about it for too long. The big, bad Punisher lying halfway off your shared bed so that he could rest his head on the swell of your tummy and “listen” to your baby. You were only four and a half months along, but were showing fast. He loved it, littering your tightening skin with kisses every chance he could get.

He had of course witnessed two previous pregnancies and two babies who had been snatched from him, and this made him even more protective than before, but it mostly translated in sweet ways, except for when he wouldn’t let you leave without him. This was an irritant, but you got it; you let him hold you extra tight and stretched like a cat when he poured his love on you.

And here you were now, a baby name book open on your chest, your eyes tracking down the pages and mentally discarding name after improbable name.

“Is it really that important?” he asked you, flicking his eyes up to you.

“Yes, Frank, it is. Names are what you’re known by for the rest of your life. You should know that better than anyone, Mr. Teddy Bear. We have to pick a good one.”

He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your belly button, your sleep shirt now bunched all the way up underneath your breasts so he had full access to your stomach.

“Okay. A good name for our little girl.”

“Or boy.”

He shook his head.

“Girl. We’re having a girl.”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“How do you know? We don’t find out for another two weeks.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I just know. Like how I know how to aim, or how to breathe. You’re carrying my daughter.”

His gaze clouded a little and you knew he was thinking of Lisa. But when you gently tugged on his hair and he looked up at you, you knew that all he was truly seeing was you and he was content with his life as it stood, now. He loved you and his heart thumped a little harder whenever he imagined what this new daughter would look like.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you, Frankie?”

He glanced up at you, his lips pursed slightly. He scrunched his nose at you.

“Yeah. Every day, sweetheart.”

You went back to your book, nodding to yourself.

“Good. Just checking.”

He nipped at your hip and kissed away the sting before rolling away to land in a crouch beside the bed. Your focus stolen again, you watched him yank open a drawer and rummage inside it, shoving his hand right to the back. When he felt your eyes on him, he raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head, a wry grin tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t look.”

You glanced away obediently and the grin broadened.

“Attagirl.”

Seconds later, he leaped back onto the bed, making the mattress shake beneath you. He sat back on his heels and the look in his eyes made you drag your body up the bed to a sitting position, name book forgotten on the pillow behind you.

“Frank? Is everything okay?” you asked, a little anxious now.

He nodded and when he spoke, his voice was gruff and a little uncertain; he was no poet but he wanted to try, for you.

“When I met you, I was a very different man. I lived in the darkness and it lived in me. But you...you bring the light back in. I know joy again, with you. I am not without fear, but I can live with it. I will give you the rest of my life, if you’ll have it. I love you, and I never thought that would happen again. Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

Your eyes were misting over as you nodded rapidly and shuffled around onto your knees so you could throw your weight at him and kiss him fiercely, his strong hands branding your hips.

“That a yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes” you mumbled against his mouth.

“Haven’t even seen the ring yet.”

“Don’t care. I’d marry you with a paper ring, Frankie.”

He kissed your nose and pulled away, holding out a small round velvet box. With careful fingers, you flipped it open and your mouth rounded into an ‘o’ at the sight of the delicate engagement ring. It was white gold, a band of filigree leaves with a small white opal in the centre.

“It’s beautiful” you sighed softly.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t correct him as he slipped the ring, perfect fit, onto your finger. Then you lay back on the bed and pulled Frank after you, chasing his mouth even as he fell into your arms as willingly as the first time.

Opal is my birth stone, shhh.

Tagging @hellskitchenswhore​

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle drabble #the punisher #marvel #liss writes

[gliyerabaa]

‘Corvid’s are friends’

Okay but doesn’t Elphaba keep crows? I feel like that’s how they meet, somehow. She comes out into the yard one day and there’s just a guy trying to talk to her birds

Took me a good ten minutes to realize the “corvids are friends” thing you mentioned is from the werewolf instincts post

Ok but this is SUCH a good idea. I envision this gliyeraba werewolf/vampire au taking place in a modern setting— even modern au elphaba would befriend crows though. Leaving out food for them and they bring her trinkets in return.

One day she goes out to feed the crows and there’s a guy just standing there trying to talk to them. The birds don’t mind— they’ve grown used to human interaction— but Elphaba approaches the situation with a fair amount of snark.

-

Elphaba steps out onto the porch, morning coffee and biscuits in hand. She had heard the crows making a ruckus outside and decided to take her breakfast outdoors. It’s a beautiful morning, no sense wasting it inside.

She’s caught off guard by a man leaning over the fence of her yard, seemingly trying to talk to the crows. He’s a scruffy man with shaggy hair and blue diamond tattoos covering his dark skin. He’s wearing a flannel that’s a slightly different shade of blue than his tattoos. It’s an annoying clash, further aggravating Elphaba, as if the presence of a stranger on her property wasn’t annoying enough.

“Hey man, go find your own murder to befriend— these crows are mine.”

“Oh, sorry” the scruffy man looks up, “Just trying to see if these birds have any intel on the mailman. Can’t stand the guy.”

“The mailm- Boq? What do you have against him?”

“Nothing. I just like chasing him. I mean— my dog. My dog likes chasing him. Not me. That would be weird.”

“Right.” Elphaba sighs. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with a weirdo like this.

“Those biscuits look good.” The man leaps over the fence effortlessly and lands on all fours. “Can I have one?”

Elphaba’s first instinct is to reach for her phone and call the police— but her phone is inside and even if it weren’t, she knows better than to call the cops on what she assumes to be a homeless man. As off-putting as the stranger’s presence is, she casts aside her reservations and hands him a biscuit.

“Thank you!” He accepts the food and devours it quickly, “My name is Fiyero, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Fiyero. What exactly brings you to the neighborhood, aside from hunting down poor Boq?”

“Y’know, I’m still not too sure. I’ve been a bit of a lone wolf for a while, I’m still trying to figure out where I want to go and who I want to be.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Though maybe you should refrain from inviting yourself into other people’s property.”

“Ah, yeah…” Fiyero smiles sheepishly, “Still haven’t quite figured that one out.”

Elphaba offers him another biscuit. It’s strange, she thinks, how Glinda had to be invited into Elphaba’s home, but now this man practically invites himself in. Two mysterious encounters in the span of only a few months…

“Elphie, what’s going on out here?” Glinda steps outside, making sure she stays in the shade of the porch. She looks at the man sitting on the porch and smiles, a rare grin that shows off her pointed fangs. “Fiyero!”

“Glinda!” Fiyero leaps up and practically tackles her in a hug.

Elphaba raises an eyebrow, “You two know each other?”

“Of course we do— we went to the Academy together. Didn’t see each other much, considering I was in the Vamp dorm and he was in the Lycan dorm, but..”

Oh. All of Fiyero’s odd mannerisms made sense now— he was a werewolf!

#cryptid au #gliyeraba #ask #answered #anon

[legitimatesatanspawn]

Something I can't stop thinking about: Present Mic's work bullshit schedule.

His three jobs are teacher, pro hero, and radio show host. Now to be fair pro and radio can have different hours but...

Radio Shows have set times. Even if we assume he just has the prime time hours because hero, that's still 3 or 4 hours that day on top of whatever prep or office stuff or paperwork has to be done.

UA's schedule seems to follow the standard 8-ish to 4 pm just for homeroom and classroom stuff, not even getting into faculty meetings or grading homework or if he helps students with a club or anything like that. There's also basically April to next March minus August and like... I want to say a week or two for the winter break? So let's lower it down a little to 10 months, not counting the different hours for Saturday or the absence of Sundays. The hours at the start of this paragraph doesn't include getting to work or leaving for one of his other jobs.

And then there's the Pro Hero job which has god only know what hours and how he does it. Does he have set patrols? Does he only do nights and Sundays now because of his schedule?

But you know what set it off my thoughts this time?

The CD Drama.

Hizashi gifted All Might the complete 4 terabyte set of his show's broadcast. "100,000 hours" or so he claimed. Much like Aizawa in the clip I heard, I was baffled. The math doesn't work out by any stretch of the imagination.

Even if we assume that Hizashi has done his radio show for the full 11 years of his being a hero, whether it's just Prime Time hours or if he had different slots to keep enemies on their toes, that's 3-6 hours a day for upwards to the full 11 years. Which by math is 12,045 to 24,090 hours. The 100,000 hours meanwhile is about 11 years and 5 months of nonstop 24/7 chatter.

By every aspect that is physically, temporally, and practically impossible.

I know it's just a joke but this is why I should not be given math and existing structures.

Present Mic's schedule is difficult if feasible but the CD Drama's hours are genuinely impossible. Unless the "100,000 hours of my show" are padded out 87% to 76% with music and other stuff.

But what if I'm more charitable with the time?

Let's say Hizashi's done the thing as part of a UA school project that he got approval for - in half hour segments - starting in Year 2. And let's say he managed to do six hour segments before getting into UA as a teacher. Let's... go with him being a teacher for 6 years of the 11 he's been a Pro for, to give him a long enough time on the job to be comfortable but short enough that he had an established name before it. And as a teacher he limits himself to 3 hour segments aside from holidays or school breaks where he does 6.

And because I don't feel like giving the full math on it for sick days or Sundays off or him doing actual breaks, we're going the full maximum on time just to show off how bad the schedule still is. But keep in mind UA students have about... remember the time? So that's 45 days out of 365 where he'd be at 6 hours (teacher) or 0 (student).

UA Student: 2*(0.5*(365-45))=302

Pro Hero: (11-6)*(365*6)=10950

Teacher: 6*(( (3*(365-45))+(45*6)))=7380

302+10950+7380=18632

So instead of the rough estimates of 12,045 to 24,090 hours, we have a more precise maximum estimate of 18,632 hours across a show's 13 years run. Without the subtraction of Sundays, vacations, sick days, and so on because doing the show nonstop like that would build up stress and burnout and all kinds of health risks.

But as you can see it still isn't enough time to make the claimed 100,000 hours. Which would require 24/7 Awake Nonstop Talking Ever to be possible. ... I forgot the leap years but that'll just add like a negligible amount, like 18 hours?

If there is actually that much harddrive space eaten up, I really wanna know what the rest of it really is.

tldr: Present Mic's radio show is likely around 12,045-24090 hours or an estimated max of 18,632 hours of playtime. 100,000 hours is literally impossible as that's about 11 years and 5 months of 24/7 talking.

#just talking #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #overthinking again #present mic #yamada hizashi #plus ultra #applying math #taking the joke seriously #why am i like this