#leave the kids alone damnit

[wat-zu]

I hate kids bro i got fucking cornered by one asking me if I'm sisters with my sister that's in her class like yes u lil maggot Ive said the same answer everytime you ask is that the only way u know how start a conversation sweet jesus

#God sends kids my way for entertainment cuz he knows i cant handle them #Children leave me alone challenge #Fucker was blocking my way like i did some heinous crime and she's on my ass #I just wanna wash my spoon damnit

[starkeyisthelastname]

hiiii <3

no cause imagine rafes girl who tagged along on like a business meeting with Barry, and Rafe has to get go take a call or something so he (reluctantly) leave you with barry, but then barry says something to tease you/flirt/something you don’t like so you go tattle to rafe because of course he handles all you’re problems

(I feel like this is season 3 Rafey. 😘)

When Rafe came back to the island to handle business, the last thing he excepted was to find you. There you were, sitting at the island club all fucking pretty and shit. Real fucking pretty… from your hair that flowed down your back, ridiculously long lashes, pink sparkly lips and the little white sundress that clung to your curves. He had never been one to be in a committed relationship, but he did have the family ring now and was becoming a real man. Maybe a little side piece is exactly what he needed.

Inviting you over to Barry’s wasn’t exactly something he wanted to do. He had serious work to do about the cross before his sister and the rest of the pogues somehow magically got it back. You were new to staying at Tannyhill and the place being so big, you got scared easily. He promised you he’d be back soon but somehow there you were sitting on his lap as he discussed putting a fake cross in the shipping container.

You were oblivious to what they were talking about, in your own world as you played with Rafe’s ring on his hand, red sucker in mouth. He had told you to mind your business before you both left the house, which of course you listened to.

His phone buzzed in the pocket of his shorts which he adjusted you in his lap so that he could pull it out. Reading that it was his dad, he hesitated for a moment if he wanted to leave you to answer it. “Damnit. Stay here sweetheart, I’ll be right back.” He said. You pouted, lips drooling from being around the sucker. He gripped your throat tightly, leaning down to place a kiss on your juicy lips.

He leaves you sitting in his place, now alone with Barry. You hummed contently with the kiss you had just gotten, giggling quietly for the dark haired man to hear. He smirked at you, sucking in his teeth as he eyed you up and down.

“You a freak, ain’t ya?” Barry asked with a laugh, gold tooth shining he took a swig of beer.

You weren’t exactly sure what that meant, but the way he was looking at you was making you uncomfortable. Frowning, you stood up from your chair to go find Rafe. You didn’t care that you were going to go tattle, it was better than being with Barry.

Quickly walking around the property, you found him hanging up his phone. His body turned to you in which you ran towards him until you collided with his front.

“What are you doing, kid? I was just coming back.” He said, height towering over you as you looked up at him.

“Rafey… Barry called me a freak.” You told him, lips adoring in glossy pout as you snitched. You clung to his shirt watching as his face twisted trying to understand what you meant exactly. Knowing Barry, Rafe had to know that it was meant in a pervy way. Reaching for his keys, he handed them to you. “Go wait in the truck princess.” He told you in a firm voice.

You weren’t sure exactly what he was going to do. Or what was going to happen. But him coming back with a bloody knuckle said it all. You of course didn’t say a word, perfectly fine with whatever Rafey did. ;)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #obx

[miffysrambles]

Hello! I love your headcannons! What are your headcannons for when S/O is gravely injured? Like, the S/O is fighting against some demons along with MK, Wukong and Macaque and they get very seriously injured, to the point of passing out. What would their reactions be?

Wukong, Macaque, and MK With a Gravely Injured S/O

(This one took a bit, sorry about that!)

Wukong:

Oh, he is livid.

He shouts at MK to take you somewhere safe, as far away from his location as the boy could go.

“Get them out of here kid, get them help! I’ll handle this!”

He needs to beat some sense into this bastard, right here and right now.

Uses almost every single one of his powers to strike the demon, soon enough scaring them off into never hurting you or even going near you again.

Grabs them by the collar as they fall to the ground, bearing his fangs as speaks through his teeth. 

“If I see you even stand close to that mortal ever again, I will not hesitate to kill you next time…”

Eventually travels back to you and MK on his cloud, finding the both of you in your apartment as the noodle boy patches you up.

He sends MK home, ensuring you’ll be ok.

“Don’t worry bud, they’ll be fine. Get some rest, ya earned it.”

He sits down next to you on the couch as he lays your head in his lap.

His fingers intertwine with your hair, his other hand caressing your face as you rest from the intensity of your wounds.

He stays like this for quite some time, maybe even hours as he does not dare to move a muscle.

His heart skips a beat as you shift awake, smiling up at him as you regain consciousness.

He smiles back at you, it might have been the fact you were still a bit tired but you swear you could see small tears in his eyes.

“Peaches, oh thank Gods! It’s ok! You’re ok, you’re safe…”

He wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and cover your gorgeous face in kisses but does not want to move you when you’re in pain.

Soon enough when you’re ready to move he does just that, laying you on his chest as he presses soft kisses all over your face.

He holds you close as if you were about to disappear any second, you’re guessing he really was scared today -which is super rare.-

“I love you, oh I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re ok.”

Macaque:

His first instinct is to get you the hell out of there. 

As soon as his six ears hear your breath falter, he pulls you through into the shadows and gets you both out of the fight.

“Damnit, damnit, damnit! You're going to be okay sweet cheeks, don’t close your eyes on me. Keep those gorgeous eyes open.”

He falls into his living room with you in his arms, frantically kissing your forehead as he sets you down on the couch. 

He’s scrambling through his dojo to find stuff to patch up your wounds, he doesn’t have much because, well, he’s immortal.

After patching you up, –which is sloppily done by his shaking fingers–, he leaves you alone to rest.

“Gods damnit!” He punches a hole through the wall of the dojo, taking his rage out on the crumbling drywall. 

He needs to direct his anger towards something else before the entire building falls.

And luckily for him, he has just the target.

Oh, the demon didn’t win like they thought they did, not even close.

As soon as Macaque sees they let their guard down, he emerges from the shadows to summon his smoke monster.

It grabs the demon within its giant grasp as it forces them into the gravel below, crushing them with its sheer force.

“So! Do you really think you got away with hurting that mortal? Big mistake on your part…”

After beating the demon to a pulp, he travels back to you through the shadows.

You open your eyes to see him land on the living room floor, his ears perking up from the sound of your breath hitching as he rushes to your side. 

You smile up at him through your pain, your bandages wrapped a little too tight.

“Macaque? I love you and appreciate it so much but you tied these a little too tight…”

He blinks in surprise as he reapplies the white strips on your wounds, smiling as he kisses your nose.

“Heh, sorry about that starshine. Glad you’re ok…”

MK:

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your bright bubbly boyfriend so angry.

In fact, he is beyond furious.

To the point, he turns into his monkey form and beats the demon into a pulp. 

Pigsy and Sandy were helping you stand as you stared at the sight in front of you, MK glowing a bright gold color as the two flew through the sky so fast you couldn’t keep your eyes up with them.

At one point, the demon tried to teleport away but MK was two steps ahead as he reached his arm out and grabbed them by the collar.

“Hey! Who– Said– I– Was– Done with you yet!”

He was throwing the demon around the mountains in between his words, finally, the demon was defeated as Mk ran up to you.

“(Name)! Oh, please be ok!” He wraps his arms around you, earning a gasp of pain from you.

“Careful kid, they’re hurt bad…” Pigsy put his hands up to warn your worried boyfriend.

“Right, right. Come on, let’s get them home.”

MK scooped you up in his arms as he carried you to your apartment, using the key that you gave him to set you down on the couch.

“Stay here, I’ll get you some bandages.”

He kissed your forehead as he left the room, coming back with white gauze and a waterproof marker.

You raised your eyebrow at the marker, earning a small smile from him as he slightly laughed.

“I was gonna draw on your bandages, add a little happy touch to the sadness!”

You laughed softly, nodding at the idea.

“Sounds fun, let's do it.”

He beamed as he applied the white strips, drawing various doodles on your bandages such as a doodle of the two of you kissing, one of the Monkey King (of course), and little hearts and stars everywhere.

You smiled as he held up his phone camera to you so you could see, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you babes, I look so colorful!’

His cheeks flushed red as he kissed your cheeks several times in return, “Of course, I think you look goood! I’m so glad you’re feeling better sweetie”

#ask #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk mk #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #mk x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk macaque x reader #lmk mk x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid macaque x reader #lego monkie kid mk x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Walter’s presence grows routine, even if it still feels peculiar. Before, you saw him now and again when he dropped in to see your dad. He never seemed very social and that sense hasn’t changed. He comes, does his work, and politely accepts his dinner.

That day, a week since your father’s homecoming, you’re due to drive into town. You need to stop by the pharmacy for your mom and pick up a few staples from the grocer. You’re excited to get out, to distance yourself just for an hour or two from the sombre farmhouse.

You grab your purse, a wicker bag with a ribbon tied on the handle, and put a hat on to block out the beaming sunlight. The birds tweet in greeting as you fold your mother’s list into your pocket and head for the garage. The door is open already. Timothy always forgets to close it.

You jingle the keys and climb up into the old truck. You don’t drive it often, mostly traveling to town with your parents or brother. You prefer to walk most places, even if it is a bit far.

You put your bag on the passenger seat and turn the keys in the ignition. The engine putters then a loud bag makes you yelp. A plume of black smoke erupts from the slits on the hood of the truck and a rackety clunking churns in the motor. You let go of the key as you sit dumbfounded and watch the cloud grow.

You hear footsteps and suddenly the driver’s door swings open. You’re pulled out before you can react, put onto your feet and ushered back into the spring hue. You cough as you get a mouthful of smoke and turn to face the garage, Walter’s hand lingering on your back.

“Timothy,” he growls before he marches forward, “told that kid he was gonna start a fire.”

“I…”

“What’s going on?” Your brother dashes up as if he heard his name, “woah, holy cow.”

“What did you do?” Walter accuses.

“What? I fixed it,” Timothy shrugs.

“Damnit,” Walter growls and paces back and forth. “You’re lucky it didn’t catch fire,” he turns on your brother, “you’re lucky your sister didn’t get hurt.”

“Huh? What?” Timothy shakes his head, “I didn’t–”

“She was in there,” Walter’s voice rises tremulously.

“I’m okay,” you pipe up, “it’s fine, I just… can you fix it?”

Walter stops and faces you. His brow twitches in anger and he crosses his thick arms. He peeks over his shoulder then back at you.

“Not any time soon.”

“I can fix it.”

“Don’t touch it,” Walter snarls, “you leave better off alone.”

“Jeez, dad, calm down,” Timothy snipes dryly. He gets a dark glare in return and flinches visibly, “sorry, I–”

“Shouldn’t be joking about that,” Walter girds and pivots his attention back to you, “where were you going?”

“Just to town. I was gonna get some stuff from the store,” you explain.

“I’ll drive you,” Walter insists.

“Oh, uh, that’s fine. I can call Mr. Howland–”

“Don’t bother,” Walter waves you off, “running low on manure around here.”

“Oh,” you chew your lip, “right. Well, thanks, I’ll just grab my purse–”

You take a step towards the garage and Walter quickly blocks your path, “I’ll get it. You shouldn’t breathe that stuff in.”

You step back and nod. Walter rolls his shoulders and narrows his eyes at Timothy as he spins, “get back to planting. No time to waste.”

Walter stalks into the thinning smoke and you blink at your brother. He mopes and throws his hands up as he looks at you, “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, Tim,” you say, “better just get it done.”

“God, he’s a grumpy gus, isn’t he,” Timothy rolls his eyes, “sorry, sis.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “just go.”

“Hey,” he stops himself before he goes, “can you grab me smokes?”

“No,” Walter answers as he emerges, holding out your purse, “come on, better head out.”

Timothy huffs and tramps away. You take your purse from Walter with a sheepish smile. His anger makes you nervous. You’ve never seen him anything less than stoic. You follow him to his truck, parked just in front of the house and he opens the passenger door ahead of you.

The porch door swings open and shut. Before you can climb up into the truck, you mom rushes out, “everything okay?”

“Just some car troubles,” Walter calls back, “nothing I can’t fix.”

“Right, oh,” she looks over at the wisps escaping the garage, “fire?”

“Just smoke,” Walter returns, “I’m gonna take her to town, I’ll have a proper look when I get back.”

“I can call Vol,” your mother offers.

He grumbles and offers his hand. You let him help you up into the truck, the lift even higher than your dad’s. He waits for you to settle in before he shuts the door.

“All good, Maddie,” he shows his palm, “won’t be long at all.”

“Thank you, Walter,” your mother preens, “you’re too good to us.”

He nods and goes around the front of the truck. He hops in the driver’s seat with no effort at all and shuts the door. He buckles his seat belt, glancing over at you and you do the same. You clutch your purse and swing your feet over the floor.

“You alright?” He asks as he starts the engine and shifts.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Must’ve been scary,” he comments.

“Just a bit of a surprise,” you chirp, “but I’m okay. Er, thanks for… for saving me.”

“Saving you?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I didn't really know what to do,” you laugh at yourself, “I'd still be sitting there staring like a deer.”

“Hmph,” the noise is close to a chuckle.

“What are we getting in town?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, pharmacy first,” you answer, “then I wanted to see if the market's selling honeydew.”

He hums and backs out. You hold onto the door as the truck rolls over the bumpy ground. It's not what you planned but it's still a break.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #backwoods au #au #series #night hunter #the farmer's daughter

[ashwhowrites]

Hi what about some fluff with eddie and reader where reader goes away to visit family for Christmas and while she's gone eddie is a mess he's wearing her sweater bc it smells like her and when she's finally back uncle wayne runs to her saying finally you're back and when eddie sees her at his door he tackle hugs her and won't let her go

This is adorable

A tiny fluff blurb

Eddie has spent the last two weeks pouting in his bedroom. His girlfriend had to visit family in California for Christmas, leaving him alone during the holidays. Well not alone, he had Wayne and hellfire. But it wasn't the same. He misses his girlfriend. He misses her warmth, her kiss, and her voice.

She calls every night, refusing to sleep without talking to him. Asking about every detail about his day and he gladly answers all the questions. Happily talking with his girlfriend for hours.

He went to bed every night with her pillow, spraying extra perfume when the scent faded. Switching between the three sweaters she left behind. Refusing to go a day without wearing one. His arms covered in the bracelets she left on his dresser. Kissing the ink on his finger before bed, a small initial on his pinky, one that matches her pinky finger.

~~

"two more hours Eddie" Wayne said patting his back, watching as Eddie crossed off another day on the calendar

A big red circle around the date labeled "BABY IS HOME"

"I'm going to take a nap so it goes faster. Wake me up when she's here!"

Wayne nodded, laughing as Eddie raced to his bedroom. The familiar sweater of hers covering his body

~~

"look who it is" Wayne smiled, throwing his arms around Y/N as she hugged him back

"I missed you Wayne" she squealed, hugging him harder as she refused to let go

"missed you too kid. Glad to finally have you back" Wayne admitted. He loved having her around and he missed her presence

"he's waiting for you. Dead asleep" Wayne said quietly pulling away from the hug

"should we pull a mean prank?" She giggled, an evil smirk

"fuck yes" Wayne laughed

~~

Eddie groaned as he woke up

Jumping out of bed as he raced to open his bedroom door

"YOU DIDN'T WAKE ME UP" he screamed as Wayne sat on the couch

"She hasn't come home yet. The plane is delayed" Wayne said shrugging his shoulders. Trying to hold back his smile as Y/N hid behind the couch

"wait what?" Eddie sighed sadly. Shoulders dropping in disappointment

"she called while you were asleep. I'm sorry bud. Doesn't seem like she's back until tomorrow"

"damnit" Eddie groaned. Throwing himself on the couch

"it's just another day"

"no it's not Wayne. It's 24 hours of her still not being with me. I understand two weeks isn't that long but I hate being away from her" Eddie sniffled, coughing away the tightness in his throat

"you love her that much huh?" Wayne smiled

"absolutely" Eddie said with no hesitation

Y/N felt her heart warming at the moment

Smirking evilly as she stood up silently

Throwing her hands over Eddie's eyes

"guess who?"

Eddie jumped in seconds, turning around fast to see his girlfriend standing there

"OH MY GOD" he screamed. Easily grabbing her into his arms, yanking her over the couch as he shoved his face in her neck

She giggled as he dug himself in her neck

"I missed you" he whispered into her neck

"missed you too baby"

Wayne excused himself. Leaving the two in the living room

"do you want to like go lay down?" She laughed

"just want to hold you a little longer" he said. Refusing to let her go

"okay. Let's hold each other a little longer"

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming

@eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 under the mistletoe w bill

“thanks for coming! we’re so glad you were able to make it,” simone kaulitz opens the door to welcome in you and your mom. they were close friends ever since becoming coworkers and you visited the kaulitz home quite often.

“y/n dear, the boys are just inside the kitchen.”

you nod at her after embracing her hug, running into the kitchen there you spot the twins drinking hot chocolate. they look up from each other whole conversing after hearing the patter of your foot steps.

“y/n!! you’re here!!” bill smiles brightly, you can’t help but cheese at his excitement. he’s so cute. truth haves it that you have the biggest and fattest crush on bill. it’s been like this since you’ve first met.

upon first meeting, you weren’t to keen on meeting the people that lived within your neighbourhood, especially your mom’s coworkers. it just was never in your interest.

it also didn’t help that you didn’t get along with the kids your age. known for your deviance and resistance to conformity, parents leaned towards influencing their kids into not interacting with you at all.

bill and tom on the other hand? it was as though you’ve known them for a life time. the three of you had always caused trouble in school, yelling at teachers, pulling pranks on the kids. just overall, bad behaviour.

it wasn’t until you realized your crush on bill that the two of you hid in the school’s closet together that one time you pulled a prank that would’ve left you into another suspension.

the close proximity of that cramped closet had you and bill extremely close, it left you to examine bill’s features up close and god was he just attractive. let alone the fact that he was constantly asking if you were okay and apologizing for the situation he put you in even though it was a shared effort.

getting up from his seat he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into a tight hug. this catches you by surprise but who are you to deny a hug from someone you REALLYY like.

“it’s nice to see you bill, hi tom,” he waves at you smirking, to then making kissing motions with his hands behind bill’s back. tom is full aware of your crush on bill, and despite the desperate attempts in asking his twin brother how bill feels about you, all tom could do was shrug, damnit tom.

letting go, he looks at you, now rubbing the sides of your arms, “hot chocolate?”

“yes please,” you say putting your hands on bill’s neck, they’re cold from the walk you made to his house, not living that far apart. “y/n! that’s really cold—tom could you make y/n a cup?”

a groan is heard from the table, “ughhhh why do i have to—ok fine don’t kill me…” tom puts his hands up in immediate defeat after seeing bill’s reaction to his attempt at retaliation.

getting up from his seat, he makes you a cup of hot chocolate. “whipped cream and marshmallows?” tom asks to which you nod obligingly.

shuffling, bill walks you over to the table to sit down beside him, hand in yours. you can’t help but blush and just allow him to do whatever he wants.

“sooo y/n! any other plans for christmas?” he asks, fully anticipating your answer as his attention is wholeheartedly on you. “hmm, nothing much, being here is enough for me..” you look at bill waiting for a reaction.

he can’t help but fiddle with his fingers, a little more timid. your words struck bill a little more than they should have, a deep pounding now felt in his chest as his ears flush a slight pink.

“your hot chocolate y/n,” “thanks tom!” he nods at you and takes his cup to exit the kitchen, presumably going upstairs to leave the two of you alone.

taking a sip of the drink, you can’t help but gush at how decadent the beverage was, tom made it really good you thought. “yummy?” bill asks, “mhm!” giggling, you almost chug the drink as if it was your last.

placing the mug down on the table, bill snorts at you, “what..?” using his fingers, he wipes the top of your lips to then bring his fingers to his lips, “just some cream.. no worries,” “o-oh! uhh thanks.”

a silence was now met in the kitchen as the two of you didn’t know what to do or say. it never was like this, whenever you came over to theirs, there was always something to do.

but this awkward, tension, just cannot be eased.

“y/n…” “yea?” “can we talk?” you nod at him, not wanting to say anymore. he’s making you nervous now. swallowing a hard lump, you wait for bill to speak.

lips dry, bill smacks his lips together. he seems nervous, and that nervousness you sense is killing you. “sooo like—i don’t know why i feel this way but all i know is that you mean a lot to me and i wanted to ask you if you felt the same about me.”

holy. shit. did bill just confess to you?

“i.. i..” damn, why can’t i get the words out? the sudden upbringings of heartfelt left you speechless. that was until you heard a small jingle from above you.

looking up, all you could see was a plant on a stick. the greenery bear that of white berries, tied together with a red ribbon. you look to see an extended arm that held the mistletoe.

oh my fucking god it was tom.

snickering, he smiles, what a little shithead. “oh wow—oh my god how did that get thereee,” he teased, leaving the two of you to look up at the plant, and then back at each other. you internally panic at to what just happened.

the traditions of mistletoe was not unknown, and time and place didn’t help either.

“tom? what the hell are you doing you’re making y/n uncomfor—” you didn’t want to hear bill lecture tom who basically helped you make your next move.

cutting bill off, you placed your lips onto his.

it was a quick peck that you honestly didn’t think meant much. it was short but sweet, his lips were slightly cracked due to the dry weather, but you could really care less. you hoped that such a gesture helped bill confirm how you felt about him.

“y-y/n!?” “i feel the same, bill. i felt it ever since i first met you.” tom ran away screaming ‘YUCK!’ as the sound of jingling became more distant, bill couldn’t help but hold his face within his palms.

“you like me?” he asks, “i do like you,” “like—more than friends?” “wayyy more than friends bill.” “wow, i would’ve never thought… i’m so happy right now i could die.” bill then hugs you tightly.

“b-bill.. you’re squeezing too hard..” “sorry! sorry.. just, excited you now.” he holds your hand, his face now a beet red. yours can’t help to match his you giggle at how adorable he is.

“i knew it!” simone exclaimed, clapping her hands together, “it was cute to see how much they pined over each other,” your mom chimes in. from afar away from your peripherals, the two were watching the interactions between you and bill unfold.

“what do you think tom?” “i think i’m gonna be sick…” tom fake throws up as the two laugh at his antics.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #2000s #fyp

[verdemoun]

because i like to pretend every single character was as devastated by kieran's death as i was, i would like to take this opportunity to remind people that if you rescue tilly from the foremans after jack's party, miss grimshaw will mention kieran being missing and that she's going to send some boys out looking for him (screaming crying they DID look for him). but that leaves the question of who. based on who goes looking for arthur when he's away from camp too long, our choices are bill, charles or javier.

obviously, i think miss grimshaw is acutely aware of how much bill torments the poor boy and wouldn't send bill after him

if charles was sent looking for him he would've fucking found him.

so that leaves javier. i think he would've ridden out 2-3 times looking for kieran. first time he was just annoyed, annoyed he was right: said it himself 'once an o'driscoll, always an o'driscoll'. the spineless little man had finally gone running back to colm the second the gang faced a real threat.

second time he had to stop early because boaz got a stone properly wedged in his shoe, and javier realizes he'd gotten so used to the o'driscoll taking care of the horses he had actually neglected to check himself. it feels wrong seeing charles being the one to cart haybales over to the horses, and lenny being the one trying to brush sweat out of their coats before tacking them up. makes a passing comment that the o'driscoll would've had them all done by now, and the saddles would've been clean enough to see their faces in. without kieran, it'll go back to being a three-person chore tending to the herd. he had to admit the kid did a lot of work around camp.

third time he looked along the river, because the few things he knew about the boy was that he liked horses, and fishing. remembers how disappointed the o'driscoll was when javier said there was no way he'd go fishing with him - he was preparing lures for arthur (and how the kid looked that much like a sad, wet cat javier had tossed a bag of crickets at him (was it an apology?), and kieran was happy again because it was much better bait for the local bluegill population than the worms he picked out of the dirt) it became another thing to tease him over, maybe they'd go fishing together.

post horsemen, apocalypses, javier is angry. he's ready to ride out and hunt down the o'driscolls himself, to hit them back even though it's the wrong move. because damnit, kieran was one of them. that meant even if he was a damned o'driscoll, he was part of the gang: the closest thing to family javier had. and no one mentions that javier was the one who went looking for him. no one says he failed. he doesn't need them to point out that he's more angry at himself for not looking hard enough, for not doing enough, not being enough to find the damned kid before that happened to him than he is mad at the o'driscolls.

on nights when he's on guard, and his brain is swimming in the whiskey that he was drinking to stay warm (poor excuse, everything in lemonye is sticky and hot), he catches himself staring over to a wooden marker standing alone in the middle of a clearing, buried facing away from them. feels himself getting angry again, because if he didn't get angry he'd start blaming himself and apologies never solved anything. instead he simmers in his rage, glowering into the night because damnit they were meant to go fishing together.

#kieran duffy #javier escuella

[dotster001]

i was gonna make this a comment but smthn told me this was gonna be long.

SORRY FOR THE LONG-NESS OF THIS ASK

BUT DOT- THINK ABOUT YAN DILF JADE.

who knows if his ex wife was murdered or not, oh well! 🤭 best not to dwell on it because it makes the twins sad :(

see? (🧍🏻🧍🏻)

…anyways

but here me out (this is me going coco bananas. full on psycho mode) maybe the first time he saw you was at a RANDOM party that a friend of yours hosted.

blah blah mutual friend of a friend and that long friend family tree stuff

but maybe you slithered away to the dog, or were tasked with helping a baby (more like someone threw the baby at you in order to dance)

or you’re with the other room for the children that the party provides (this is like a really rich friend. like mega mansion. crazy rich asians kinda thing)

but ugh he’s there with his dreadful beautiful wife and his wonderful children. and his wife is already leaving to grab a drink and he thinks their children shouldn’t get a glimpse at whatever tom-foolery parties like these will lead to.

so in they go! (maybe this was years ago when they’re toddlers)

but then he sees you swarmed with babies. the nanny took a break and left you in charge and you’re fighting back babies with one of those roll-pop lawn mowers-

ARGHHH ONE JUST SPAT ON THE END OF YOUR RENTAL DRESS DAMNIT.

jade is utterly beside himself with laughter, amusement, and everything of the sorts and creates flirty small talk. and oh?? what's this? his wonderful bundles of joy seem to have found a liking to you? how precious (they’re clawing and climbing you like a jungle gym) jade takes a note of that!

they don't even like their mother that much , simply tolerating her. but jade can tell that his kids got good taste!

he lowkey interviews reader (without them know oops!!) and while yes, their beauty was what drove his interest, second being their personality (you have to be attracted to someone to give them a chance!)

and the twins were the cherry on top!

and conveniently you say where you work (rookie mistake) while he tells you he’s a humble business man… don’t ask what for tho cause that’s a super family secret 🤭

but he's planning and scheming and charming his way into your life and he’s in it for the long run because eels are patient. it just sucks that jade is even more patient, like a saint if you would

^^accurate depiction of saint jade

^^and this is jade when he gets questioned for his wife’s uh oh 🤷🏻🤷🏻

maybe she drank too much at a party and fell over the side.

maybe there was a targeted hit meant for jade but they got the wrong one.

maybe a classic batman scenario but jade survived and is throughly traumatized (same with his kids, i mean look at them!!🧍🏻🧍🏻 they’re so torn up that it just breaks his heart😿)

but he’s making chance encounters rather… commonly. (he had reader stalked for a good few years as he was planning everything. just to make sure he likes them& they keep it interesting.)

just... some thoughts about dilf jade leech and his hell spawns hehe (when the trio visited your work they managed to leave your section alone... so it looks like you were in the eye of the hurricane)

im gonna read your other stuff about dilf jade now because AHHHH

Angry at my boss, so I decided to see if there was anything in my inbox to cheer me up. Woo hoo!

In reference to this

Cw: light Yan!, implied stalking, Jade's a freak but if you don't already know that then you aren't paying attention

I can only imagine that, after the party, since you interacted with so many kids and parents that night, they all kind of blurred together. And it's not until, after he visits your place of work, and you chat over text for a while, and you have a real date, then invites you back home for an after date drink, do you start to remember. And that's only because the twins are scamps and stayed up past their bedtimes, and they are staring at you with eyes you remember.

Obviously, you are gonna chalk it up to a coincidence. "Oh my god! You know so-and-so, right? I think I met you at a party a few years ago!" He laughs, and plays along, oh my god,.yeah what a really good coincidence.

Meanwhile, the twins share a look, because Dad has talked about you every day since Mom died, so they know he's lying. Hell, when you aren't here, they already call you mama/papa. But, they are their father's kids, so they are never going to say anything.

One date turns to two turns to three, turns to a year of dating. It's time to meet the family. You know Jade has a twin, but they've taken different paths in life.

So when Dilf Floyd Trudges up the driveway with his six adopted kids, four of whom are sprinting around the house and lawn and destroying Jade's home, two of whom are under Floyd's arms like suitcases, you're in for a culture shock.

When you first meet him, he seems incredibly grumpy. He's got salt and pepper stubble, the baggiest outfit, though you get the feeling it's designer, no matter how slouchy it is, his hair is slicked back, making the grey streaks look neat against his otherwise messy look.

He tosses the kids and yells at them to go play with their cousins, then he rudely shoves past you. Jade stops him with a hand on his shoulder that appears gentle, but if you had felt the full force of it, you'd have landed on your ass. He hissed at Floyd, through a smile, to greet his new fiance. There's a tense moment where they stare at each other, then Floyd storms over to you, and presses a ticklish kiss to your cheek, before muttering, "Welcome to the family," then storming to his room and locking himself in for the night.

The next day it's like he's a different person. He makes breakfast for you and excitedly asks you about yourself, wanting to know everything about his future sibling. Eventually he pours you a glass of what you know is Jade's most expensive wine, which he has been saving for a special occasion, and you finally get the courage to ask about the night before, and he laughs and says he was tired from the trip. Wrangling six kids on an airplane is exhausting, you know?

You decide to ask him about little Jade, and Floyd's stories of childhood charm you so much that you don't notice Jade's brooding presence.

Not that Floyd minds. Yeah, he got off to a rough start with you, but he gets why Jade likes you. And Jade only has two parentless kids, he has six. So his kids need you more than Jade's do, right?

Will the dad's eventually drag the kids into this fight? Absolutely. Those kids have Mafia parents, they have plenty of acting training. They will be pulling those heartstrings of yours 😊

#just some thoughts #fun with moots #yandere twisted wonderland #dilf jade leech #dilf floyd leech #jade leech x reader

[lowkeyrobin]

Heyy :) Can you please write headcanons of dating quackity, but in his earlier eras? (like 2019-21 maybe) ❤

ooooo yes of course!!! ; fun fact I've been watching him since 2018 or so (I don't mean this in a "Oh I'm cooler than you way) ; thank you for the request!! this was fun as hell ; I tried to kinda do it in a chronological order but yeah, I did like stuff and then more details of relationship if that makes sense yk???

QUACKITY ; 2019-2021 era

warnings ; language, talk of drugs, jokes about sex

genre ; fluff

word count ; 858

masterlist

Raiding Club Penguin with him and Axel was a core memory for you. It was the first true time, however cringe it sounds, that you saw Alex as your best friend.

he'd always try to make you laugh, especially on stream

such a little tease

back in the olden days, we had those Discord server 'wtf is that food' videos

you guys rank some of them and how likely you'd eat them

also ranking Discord memes

so many of them were dumb shit or weird shipart from like 2015 deviantart LMFAO

"guys I know me and y/n are dating but that doesn't mean compare us to Shrek couples!"

"I thought Thanos was your true love?"

"He-He is! Oh my God, stop being so desperate, y/n. ugh"

once he got invited to the Dream SMP, you were all ears and proudly taught him how to play Minecraft

you made his alt skin with the tuxedo, which he didn't wear often, but used in lore some time later

youd often help him with lore ideas

he also got you invited into the SMP where he introduced you to some of his new friends

you knew schlatt and some others, but most of these people were new and it was nice meeting all of them

the fiances are established and then you and quackity are already a think and you also like karl, which creates a weird love rectangle with an open end because you and sapnap are sharing the other two 💀

lore goes fuckin crazy with that

while Karl's off making Kinoko Kingdom and Quackity's running Las Nevadas, you're building El Tropicana, off in the far away jungle biome

Alex would usually stream and translate Mexican soap operas, which you joined in for sometimes

you'd give the characters different voices and twist their words up a bit to make it more entertaining for chat

the amount of drug talk that went into that was wild

also the amount of queer kids bullied in those schools?? yikes on bikes

also the one with that girl who got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground or whatever that was?? Jesus christ man

youd both act put the scenes on occasion and use Tiger as whatever kid was being yelled at if she was in the room with you

taking a break halfway through stream for him to play guitar and for you to karaoke to fuckin Bo Burnham

also making fake joints out of paper he had laying around and "lighting them up" aka setting paper on fire next to a PC and your faces

Jackbox streams with the Feral Boys until 3am>>>

Paranormal Activity in the middle of the night went so fucking crazy

teaching Bad how to play GTA is your favorite memory with those two

playing horror games and watching him play horror games with Karl while he visited him

how dare he leave you all alone (you couldn't go because you had a busy schedule)

your chats shipping the hell out of you and your dsmp characters

hella fanart and fanfictions man

try not to laugh streams where you always ended up laughing before the ten minute mark because of him

he purposefully does shit to make you laugh

reading fanfiction on stream was a regular activity especially for y/s/n

youd rank the book on a scale from one to ten and how accurate to real life they were

"nahhhh that one doesn't have enough Thanos, two out of ten"

"yknow what... were gonna have our own tier lists... okay?"

"damnit... does this mean I'm not getting laid later?"

"what"

promoting the quackityhq merch religiously

also stealing whichever beanie he wasn't wearing, either the LAFD one or the plain black and blue one

him tying you to a chair and forcing you to laugh was a common stream plot

tweets that were either very inconspicuous about drugs, very sexual, or very old married couple vibes

youd both be frequently trending on twitter

hot wings or dare streams with Bad >>>>

playing girls go games and hoping you wouldn't give his PC a virus

sitting in the inflatable pool fully clothed, playing with children's bath toys

he'd for sure be the type to fall for his best friend

whether it be all the way back then or just now, he could go forever without feeling any feelings but one day they'll show up and the nervousness begins

he'd lend you a hoodie if you were cold in his room and he just straight up begs you to keep it

lots of just staring at you while chat ships you, like genuinley just zones out on your pretty face

would probably doubt his feelings at first and talk to his mom about it and she's like "boy you have a crush. Go ask them the hell out, you're a handsome young man, I'm pretty sure they like you too"

"mOooOooOoOoM"

genuinley spoils you with no good reason and after a while you just accept it

he starts sending good morning and good night texts

he'll repost (or reblog) (he has a secret tumblr) fanart of you two, especially if it's shipart

will constantly send you clips of movie characters making out or kissing and say "this should be us"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader #quackity oneshot #quackity headcannons #quackityhq x reader #quackity #qsmp x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

[twola]

Devil's Backbone - Owanjila VI

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC/Reader POV 

Tags: Longfic, Slow Burn, Smut (18+), Violence, Canon-Typical Injuries

Limpany’s burning was a lot more than meets the eye. Deception, greed, and murder follow everyone touched by Leviticus Cornwall. A story where the Van der Linde gang gets even more inescapably involved in Cornwall’s dealings, with the survivor of the massacre at the heart of it all. Slow burn. Pre-Blackwater and beyond.

Owanjila VI: Fevered Dreams

Arthur’s entanglements weigh heavily on him, while a fever strikes in camp.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Previous | ➵ Next

“I’ve… You’re… Oh, you’ll never change… I know that.”

He stares back at her, his eyes following when she dips into the train car following her brother until they find seats. 

Arthur doesn’t quite know what he wanted from this. The letter begging for his help - the fool that he is, he rode to her beck and call. His dark-eyed beloved, even now, after years gone by, she’s just as beautiful as the last time he saw her.

That last time, when she broke off their engagement. A letter some months later told him she was getting married, and it was like their love had never existed. 

And yet… the fool he is. The fool he is cannot say no to her, he will likely never be able to say no to her. That scarred heart of his - he reckons it will always belong to her. Wanting. Waiting. For something that will never be. She had even said herself - he’ll never change. He’ll never be what she wants, what she needs.

But damn well if he did not wish.

He makes eye contact with her once more through the window - god damnit, she’s just as beautiful as he remembers, age having sharpened her jaw, but those eyes, he can still get lost in them.

He still loves her.

The train jerks forward and slowly pulls away from the station. Mary Gillis leaves him and he’s alone once again, unable to change his ways. Unable to be what she needs. 

He is a damned fool.

Arthur stares down at the worn planks of the station’s platform, kicking at it slightly to stop himself from staring at the train receding into the distance. He grits his teeth, one hand going into his satchel and pulling out his half-empty pack of cigarettes. His jaw clicks as he clenches his teeth, annoyed that he’d have to go to the general store and get another pack. God only knows he can’t go without a smoke now, not now. Not when that heavy feeling in his chest, like he’s been shot, threatens to drown him.

His eyes close heavily after he lights the cigarette, breathing the tobacco in deeply. 

He still fucking loves her. And still, still, even widowed, she does not want to be with him.

Arthur rips the half-smoked cigarette from his mouth and tosses it to the ground, grinding it under his boot with much more force than necessary. Sighing, he grabs his hat from his satchel and places it back on his head, moving from the platform back toward the road where the Walker is hitched. 

Christ, maybe a drink could take the edge off his frustration. By the time he reaches his horse and pulls the reins from the post, he’s made his decision. A drink or two at that saloon in town. He swings himself up into the Walker’s saddle and guides the old horse down the mud-clogged street. By the time he reaches Smithfield’s, he’s edging on wanting to drink himself stupid - maybe then he could forget Mary’s damn eyes.

“Arthur!”

He looks up and finds Lenny Summers leading his horse urgently toward him. Arthur glances around before placing a hand on his hip, “The hell you doin’ way out here?”

Lenny’s face is ashen, sweat dotting his temples, “Strawberry - it was Micah -”

“Of course it was,” Arthur interjects, rolling his eyes as he slides down off the horse, taking the reins and knotting them on the hitching post before grabbing the reins of Lenny’s horse from him, knotting it as well.

“They almost lynched me!” The young exclaims, arms akimbo in agitation.

“Okay, alright, now calm down there kid.” Arthur places his hands on the young man’s shoulder, “Tell me what happened.”

Lenny recounts the sorry tale - that he had met Micah in Strawberry and the outlaw was three sheets to the wind already in a damn dry town - and ended up shooting some feller that he knew - and everything devolved into chaos. Micah was dragged to the jail, and now there was talk of hanging him.

Arthur cannot help but smirk as he guides Lenny up the porch of Smithfield’s, chuckling to himself at Micah’s predicament. He couldn’t wish it on a better man. 

Pushing Lenny toward the bar, Arthur digs his thumbs into the boy’s shoulder blades to attempt to relieve some tension. “C’mon now, kid. Let’s have a drink.”

“And Micah?” Lenny asks.

“He’ll be fine. Let ‘im dry out in a cell.” Arthur retorts with a grin as they reach the bar, “Alrigh- We’ll just have a couple, settle you down, then head back, okay?”

Lenny nods, and leans on the bar, rubbing at his face with frayed nerves, “Just one or two… right, Arthur?”

Arthur nods, motioning to the bartender, “Course, just a drink… no big drama. Can we get a couple of beers, please?”

-

The large tent on the hillside blazes with yellow-orange light, lanterns interspersed on tables and barrels in and around the canvas. 

Dutch Van der Linde is in a magnanimous mood. A gramophone, of all things, blares music into the night upon the shores of Owanjila, and various members of the gang sit and mull about the campfire.

Molly O’Shea sits upon his lap as if she sat on a throne, her emerald eyes surveying her kingdom and subjects as if the rest of the folk existed to serve. Her arms thrown loosely around his neck, one of his wrapped around her thigh, his rings glinting in the night.

She looks upon you with some kind of bored disdain from across the campfire. You pass the bottle of brandy that was foisted upon you back to Karen - you had acquiesced to her request and taken a healthy sip, frowning at the sweetness. 

Mary Beth laughs under her breath, rubbing your shoulder. “Ain’t my favorite neither.”

The men had returned from some sort of score, having ridden out the day before with Dutch all riled up - the kind of energy radiating from them like when they rode out to Blackwater those weeks ago. Horses stamping, voices hooting and hollerin’, but unlike the Blackwater fiasco, when they returned later in the night, it was in some sort of triumph.

For a moment, the glumness that had settled upon the camp was lifted - chores were set aside, and alcohol flowed freely. Even stern Grimshaw sat with a beer around the fire as the night fully settled.

“So, this train - obviously y’got something good, or you wouldn't be in such a mood.” Hosea tips his beer across the campfire at Dutch, who grins as his grip tightens on Molly’s thigh.

“Bearer bonds, courtesy of one Leviticus Cornwall.”

“Cornwall? The railroad magnate?” Hosea arches an eyebrow at Dutch, who seems completely unperturbed.

Across the fire, your stomach drops. You nearly drop the newly opened beer bottle in your hand, but by some divine providence, you don’t lose it. Ripping your stare away from Dutch, you look into the fire as the dread creeps into your chest, clawing at you like some kind of untethered beast, threatening to choke you and steal your breath.

You stare into the fire and see Limpany.

-

However you feel, you fear - about what the men just did, you kept it to yourself for the rest of the night. You excused yourself from the festivities and went to sleep without much further fanfare, but when you awoke in the morning, the stone of guilt and fear lay upon your chest much in the way it did when you had fled to Blackwater.

You busy yourself with morning work, getting the coffee pot ready while Pearson began the stew of unbeknown origins for the day. For all of the bragging that man did about his Navy days, he seemed to be a one-pony show. Maybe you could ask Hosea or Arthur to bring you to Strawberry so that you could eat something other than this stew.

Speaking of which, you noted Arthur’s absence last night - he hadn’t returned with the other men after the job - actually a few of the men hadn’t returned, now that you think about it.

Breaking open the tin of coffee, you dump grounds into the percolator before pouring water from the bucket, drawn fresh from the lake to set the coffee up. Placing it on the hook suspended above the fire, you lean over it for a few minutes as it brews.

The sound of footsteps behind you draws your attention from the percolator, and you turn your head from where you are stooped down to see who it is. Abigail slowly trudges toward you, rubbing at one eye with the back of her wrist. Grabbing one of the empty coffee mugs scattered about the ground, you wipe the inside with your skirt before pouring it full of coffee, standing up from where you had stooped down.

“Didn’t get much sleep?”

Abigail frowns before yawning, covering her mouth for a moment as you hold out the cup of coffee to her. 

“Jack was fussin’ all damn night. Kicked at me like a damn mule.” She mutters as she takes the cup, nodding in thanks as she immediately takes a long sip. You give a half-hearted frown as you look behind her, to the lean-to that the two of them sleep in, where Jack is still asleep under a blanket. It is strange for the boy to still be asleep, but if he was up most of the night…

Abigail blows at the hot coffee before taking another sip, “Been a while since he’s been like that. Hopefully was just one night.” 

You nod in agreement before she turns to walk back to her lean-to. Going back to the coffee, you start pouring another cup as more footsteps draw you to stand again.

“Good morning, dear.” Hosea smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder as you hand him the next cup of coffee.

“Morning, Hosea. You stay up much later last night?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head before bringing the cup to his lips, “I ain’t much for the late nights and bottles of whiskey like I used to be - hangovers are a bitch when you get as old as I am,” he chuckles.

You laugh and shake your head, leaning over to prepare your own cup as a horse whinnies in the distance, a rider arriving back into camp. Hosea squints toward the horse as it approaches, “Ah, it’s Lenny.”

Lenny guides his horse to where the others are tied off, and slides out of the saddle, nearly stumbling to the ground a step after landing.

“Oh, Lenny, you look like you’ve seen better mornings,” Hosea notes as Lenny staggers toward the two of you, looking absolutely miserable and the slightest shade of green. As he groans and walks closer, the overwhelming stench of alcohol wafts off of him and makes you scrunch your nose. You’re pretty sure there is vomit on his collar. You cover your nose to stop from gagging as Lenny wipes at his mouth, noticing your discomfort.

“Did’ya leave poor Arthur in another state?”

“He’s…somewhere. He was still in Valentine once they let us out of jail.” Lenny drolls, his eyes bloodshot as he bends over and places his hands on his knees, obviously trying to quell his roiling stomach.

“Jail?!” You exclaim as your eyebrows raise.

“Ah, one of those kinds of nights,” Hosea chuckles. Lenny groans and continues onward toward the shared lean-to where his bedroll is spread out, stooping down on one knee before giving up and flopping down onto the bedroll.

Your eyebrows still raised in concern, Hosea waves his hand in a cheery dismissal, “Don’t worry ‘bout him. He’ll slink back to camp and sleep it off. Boy can get a bit rowdy when he goes overboard.”

-

Christ, even his damn eyes hurt. His hat’s brim slung low over his face to keep the sun from his eyes - as if this damn headache could get any worse. The Walker sways beneath him, this ride from Valentine taking twice as long as the ride to town, and he hadn’t even gotten the new horse he meant to. 

Arthur thought it smart to leave town quickly after being let out of jail - evidently almost drowning a man in a pig trough is frowned upon in these parts. He’d like to blame the bender on trying to cheer Lenny up, but he knew, he knew that he had let things get out of hand partially on purpose. That drinking himself stupid would push the thought of Mary Gillis from his mind.

Instead, it gave him a massive hangover, a lighter wallet, and still at a loss about Mary. He quietly enters the camp with little fanfare, not wanting and very unwilling to make small talk with anyone.

Fortunately, he’s able to slink back to his cot without needing to talk to anyone, sitting down and pulling his hat off, tossing it further down on the cot as he rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palms. 

Hanging his head, his forearms rest on his knees as he stifles a pained groan. A canteen appears in his field of vision. He looks up, ready to tell whoever off, but finds you standing in front of his cot, holding out that canteen full of water. In the back of his hangover-addled brain, instead of shooing you off, he wants to call you an angel - that the water you’re offering him must be holy in the wake of his bender last night. He can already taste its freshness before even taking the canteen.

You smile, “I heard you had an interestin’ night, Mister Morgan.”

The morning light glints off your hair like it was some kind of spun gold. He swallows, taking the canteen from your hand, and mumbles some kind of thanks as he brings it to his mouth, the cool water just godsend that he believed. 

“Well, at least you didn’t come back with vomit on your shirt,” You chuckle lightly, taking a step back as you place your hands behind your back, “See you later, Arthur.”

“Missus Shaw.”

He stares down at the canteen for a moment, then flits his gaze back up to your frame, walking down toward the lake. The tendrils of your unbound hair bounce with each step you take. The sway of your skirts….

Oh god damnit.

Arthur rubs at his eyes with one hand once again, gritting his teeth against the creeping feeling in his chest. He downs another large gulp of water from the canteen. Chucking it onto the table across from his cot, he grabs at his hat as he lays down on his cot, sighing as he places the hat over his face, praying that sleep will take him quickly and that this headache will subside.

It did - at least he had that going for him today. A few hours of undisturbed sleep was entirely what he needed - by the time he woke, the sun was setting behind the ridge. He pulls himself from his cot, rubbing at his jaw with one hand as he rifles through his satchel for his cigarettes.

He’s approached by Susan Grimshaw, who steps in front of him with her hands crossed over his chest. Arthur looks past her toward the main fire, not wanting to be lectured at the moment. Susan arches an eyebrow before turning her head to follow where Arthur is looking. He lights a cigarette from his pack as she looks back up at him.

She snorts under her breath, looking back at Arthur with a tinge of amusement.

“Missus Shaw.” Grimshaw shifts her eyes back and forth toward the direction of the main campfire, where all of the women are gathered, chirping like sparrows as they eat their dinner on beat-up metal plates.

“What about Missus Shaw?” Arthur retorts; the lit end of his cigarette throwing shadows on his face in the night.

“She’s a nice girl. Doesn’t talk back, works hard, easy on the eyes.”

He doesn’t respond.

“And she don’t have a mean ol’ drunk of a daddy whispering things in her ear.” Susan narrows her eyes in an almost threatening manner, “Don't think I don't know who that damn letter came from.”

-

The next night proves to Abigail that Jack’s sleeplessness wasn’t a fluke. He had been lethargic all day, overtired and fussy. By the time night fell, the boy’s head was hot to the touch as Abigail scooped him up into her arms, beginning to fret as the night went on and he seemed only to get warmer.

You’ve fallen in next to Abigail, urging her to get Jack out from their flimsy lean-to and into the sick tent, having recently been vacated by John, who had healed enough to get out of bed. 

“C’mon, let’s get him into bed,” You reach down to Abigail, sitting on the ground next to Jack, and guide her by her shoulders to stand enough for her to gather her son up. The two of you walk slowly toward the tent, as you reach it, you step inside and turn up the oil lantern as Abigail lays Jack down in the cot. You root around for a blanket for a moment, finding an old one stowed beneath the cot, and spread it out over Jack. Abigail rubs at her brow worryingly.

“Think - think he’s breathin’ okay?” She asks, and the both of you lean over the boy on either side of the cot, holding your ears close to his face.

Jack whines then coughs harshly, and both you and Abigail recoil backward, sitting up straight next to the cot. Abigail frowns, looking apologetic - “God, sorry, Ruth - he -”

You shake your head, “It’s fine. He’s gonna be fine.”

-

You’d like to think it was the lack of sleep for staying up all night with Abigail, but as Jack rolls into another full day of fever, as the next night falls in, you can hardly stave off the exhaustion setting in.

“Shit, Ruth -” Abigail curses from the other side of the cot as she sits back down having brought the oil lantern in from refilling it, “You’re flushed - you - shit, you got a fever?”

You wipe at your brow, damp in the night, “ M’fine,” brushing her off.

But as the hours creep on, it becomes increasingly clear that yes, you had whatever Jack had come down with. It's not much after you start to nod off in your seat that Abigail picks Jack up, gathering him into her lap, and orders you to lie in the cot - your resolve broken by that point.

The night stretches on as you start to shiver in the cot. Jack pitifully whines in his mother’s arms as she hunches over in exhaustion.

“Give - give him here, I’ll hold him. You’re gonna get sick yourself if you don’t get some rest.” You reach toward Jack, huddled in Abigail’s lap. The poor woman’s eyes are bloodshot, dark circles appearing beneath them at her lack of sleep. 

Abigail is unable to hide the guarded look in her eye - her hesitance to let go of her greatest treasure. But after a moment, she acquiesced, exhausted.

She leans forward, Jack huddled to her breast like you’re sure she did when he was a baby. Handing him to you, you situate the child against your chest, pulling the blanket above you both. He does not awaken with the movement, but unconsciously, the boy curls himself into your embrace, his clammy cheek pressed against the exposed skin of your collarbone.

Your hand rubs his back slowly, softly, and when you close your eyes, you wonder if your boy would have curled himself into you the way Jack does. Clutch at you, searching for the comfort only a mother can give.

You choke back a sob, trying to keep quiet, but your attempt is in vain as Abigail notices, drawing closer to you again.

“Ruth - are y’ al-... I can take ‘im back-” Abigail stutters, placing her hand on Jack’s back again to brace him, about to pick him up from the cot.

“ ‘s alright,” You sniffle, unable to stop the tears tracking down your cheeks, “Jus - hic - my baby-”

Abigail’s face falls further, her hand moving from Jack’s back to grasp at yours, her fingers wrapping around yours, “Oh, Ruth, I’m sorry-”

“He… he was too early, b-but -” You shudder with another stifled sob, trying to not disturb the sleeping child in your cot, “ ‘e had his just a bit of his father’s dark hair-”

Abigail’s free hand reaches into the bowl of water, grabbing the rag and squeezing the excess water from it. She dabs it gently to your forehead, holding your hand tightly, comfortingly.

“And now… hic - I’ve got nothin, I’ve got no one, they’re g-gone-” You croak, tears falling down your cheeks freely. You draw the child at your chest in closer, as if Abigail’s son could temporarily fill the depthless void in your chest. 

You devolve into sobs, and Abigail holds your hand.

-

The ponderosa pines wave in the warm breeze, the sweet vanilla wafting through your nose as the clearing opens before you.

The cabin stands quiet across the way. Far quieter than when you left.

The door was left open.

Aethon isn’t hitched up, but the wagon is still next to the cabin.

The door was left open.

With unsteady steps, you slowly reach for the doorframe, looking down when your boots make a muted squelch on the wooden floorboards of the porch.

The door was left open.

Blood runs in wretched rivulets from the inside of the cabin, out the threshold, and into the world.

You step into the cabin, and upon the ground, his body is contorted into a death throe, his eyes wide open and blood running from the hole in his forehead.

As if you were caught in molasses, you move slowly toward the body, reaching out toward your dead husband who seems to be just out of reach. Finally, finally, when you reach him, you touch his cold form, hands on his shoulders, slowly coating your arms with his blood.

Your Frederick, dead on the floor. You weep into his shoulder, loudly wailing the mourning dirge.

A loud noise from outside draws your attention, and you turn to see a large shadowed figure in the door.  A lantern is thrown into the cabin by the figure, bursting into flames on the wooden floor.

Smoke quickly fills the room, and you begin to cough as you crawl toward the open door, taking your chances with the shadowed figure outside rather than with the flames. As you reach the threshold, you look back forlornly at your dead husband’s body before dragging yourself out the door. You stumble to your feet, coughing as you unsteadily step off the porch. You make it only a few steps before doubling over, coughing violently as one of your hands braces on your knee.

As your eyes water over, the shadowed figure appears again, walking slowly toward you. The figure becomes two. Two become three.

“Why, if it isn’t the lovely Missus Shaw. We’ve been looking for you.”

A gunshot pierces the night.

-

The canvas to the sick tent swings shut after Susan steps out, a basket of linen on one hip. He watches as she moves back toward the center of camp, calling for one of the girls to wash it.

He grimaces, the stitches in his skin pulling tightly as he works his jaw. Christ, his face itches something awful, but at least now he’s no longer bedridden, having thrown off the yoke of invalidity a few days ago.

John knows, of course, that Jack has taken sick. Christ, the way that Abigail tutted and fretted about, the whole damn world knows the kid has a fever. He’s kept a wide berth as the boy was relegated to the sick tent that he had so recently occupied.

He was just going to take a quick look in. He’s been listening to Abigail’s damn voice for the past two days through the canvas of the tent, and being stuck in camp and not well enough to ride yet, there was little else to do. She’s finally gone quiet. Hopefully, both her and the boy are asleep.

John barely notices that he’s almost crushed the unlit cigarette between his fingers as he approaches the tent, quietly leaning inside the canvas opening, blinking as his eyes adjust to the lantern light from the darkness outside.

Abigail sits on a stool, her head pillowed on her crossed arms on the small table. She’s dead to the world, exhausted as she’s sprawled out over that table. He looks over to the cot, the mess of blankets piled up over a still form. A mess of sandy brown hair tucked into a shoulder. 

You’re awake. He wasn’t expecting that, standing in the tent’s opening. Stuck, unable to escape, John can do nothing but take in the scene, the fevered blush staining your cheeks, the clammy pallor of your skin. The mess of your blonde hair pulled into some kind of bun that was falling apart. The matching, flushed look of the child pillowed on your chest, the boy’s labored breathing loud in the silence of the night.

Your hand moves to cradle the back of Jack’s head as he subconsciously curls further into you in his sleep.

John audibly swallows, knowing he’s been caught. Under your unfailing gaze, he turns and leaves the tent.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan smut #devil's backbone

[gh0stsp1d3r]

“She was my daughter too.”

ANGST ANGST ANGST.

Takes place in Episode 2

“We’re not gonna shoot her, joel. No!” You whisper yelled, while she went to the bathroom.

“What if something does happen? What if she does turn?” He argued, Tess was on your side.

“Joel, clearly she hasn’t. She’s fine-“ Tess said.

“Stop talking about her like she has a life in front of her.”

“She’s a kid.” You said sharply. “She does have a life in front of her, more of a life than us. She’s probably about the same age as Sarah was, if not maybe a little older!”

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He said quickly.

“What? Don’t what Joel? She was my daughter too.”

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw Ellie leave the bathroom.

———————————————————————

“We should talk.” You said, while Tess searched the place.

Ellie sat across from you both, she threw her knife.

“No.” Was all he grumbled.

“Joel.”

“Not in front of her. When we’re alone, then we will talk.”

He said that all the time.

“God damnit joel. Why do you have to be like this? This isn’t the man I married. You’re not the man I married.” You said, tears threatening to spill.

That comment stung a little bit.

“We will talk later.” Was all he said

Ellie watched, slightly amused at you both.

——————————————————————

You didn’t tell him you got bit, you didn’t say anything until you made it to the museum.

“Show me.” He said, once he noticed something was off.

You showed him the bite, he stared at it and walked towards you.

You wiped away some tears, and Joel was now in front of you. He was crying too. He put his hand on your cheek, caressing. He put his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You muttered, voice trembling.

“No, no, this is my fault. It’s my fault.” He muttered.

“No-“

“It is. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about earlier. I’m sorry-“ he said, but was interrupted by growling. Without thought, he shot it.

Then he realized, and Tess ran outside. She heard them coming.

“Joel, joel, they’re coming. We gotta go.” Tess said.

He took his forehead off yours, he didn’t want to leave you.

“Im sorry- I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll be with Sarah, right? I love you, so so much-“ you sobbed, Tess pulling him away as they got closer.

He cried out your name, yelling it as you were left alone in the museum.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #Tlou #tlou series #tlou x reader

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo's wife feeding him her homemade desserts only for the main trio to walk in on them?

“It’s so nice of you to come visit me at work [Y/N]-chan.” Satoru cooed as you set out plates from the little picnic basket you had packed for the two of you.

You giggled. “You’re never going to stop calling me ‘-chan’ are you?” Despite being a woman, and married for several years.

“Nope!” Satoru confirmed with a grin. “Because you’re still cute, and you’ll always be my cute [Y/N]-chan.” You giggle again.

“Well, thank you Satoru-kun. Honestly it’s just nice to hear you call me anything at all. You’ve been so busy lately.”

“The life of the strongest and world’s greatest teacher.” He faux bemoaned. “These days, it seems to be one crisis after another. We’re all just sifting from one disaster to the next.”

“Optimistic Satoru.” You tell him. “But, at least we have sometime now.” Even if it was just his lunch break. “And, I made you something.”

“Pecan tarts!”

An American dish that Satoru was fond of. Probably because it was more brown sugar & butter than pecans. The weren’t a popular dish in Japan though. So it wasn’t like the rest of his sweets he could just pick up en mass whenever he wanted. They had to be made special.

“You always take such good care of me [Y/N]-chan.” Satoru cheered with a grin. Already helping himself to the tarts.

“At least try to each a vegetable too.” You encourage as you offer him a some of the cold vegetable salad you made as well.

Satoru grumbled, but took a couple pieces for his plate anyway.

“Gojo-sensei, have you seen….?” The sound of Megumi’s voice broke out, before he just let himself in, came over the quiet of their lunch. “Oh. Hello [Y/N]-san.”

“Hello Megumi.”

“What is it Megumi-kun?” Satoru asked. Sounding like his usual cheerful self, but you could tell it was strained.

“Mai-senpai was looking for her jian, Coiled Viper? She said you borrowed it.”

“Why would I need her sword?” The older man asked. Clearly offended in thinking he would need a physical weapon to do anything. He was the weapon. “Go check the supply closet. Maybe someone put it there with the rest of the training gear.”

Megumi nodded once. Then apologized with his goodbye, before he let himself back out. “He’s still a good kid.”

“He’s ok.” Satoru agreed.

He tried to return to his tarts and his wife when the door flung opened again. “Gojo-sensei! You need to tell those idiots to stay out of my closet!”

“What now?” Satoru asked. His voice getting more strained.

“Those perverts went through my closet!”

“How do you know they went through your closet Nobara-chan?”

“Because all of my stuff was moved around and one of my skirts was missing!”

Satoru sighed and turned back to his lunch. “That wasn’t them.”

“Who could it have been then?!”

“Not them, that’s all.”

“How could you know that?! If it wasn’t them, then who could have gone through my stuff!”

“Because it was me ok! I borrowed it for a joke.”

“Satoru!” You hiss. To which he sighed.

He then promised to replace it, and anything else she wanted, if she would just stop yelling and leave him alone. Nobara huffed but still turned on her heels and left. “What?!” Satoru snapped. Feeling your piercing gaze. “It was just a joke.”

“…pervert…” You mutter before sipping your tea. Satoru sighed again.

“Look, I’m sorry. I get it was childish and dumb, but we were just playing around. Don’t be mad at me. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and I don’t want to mess it up.”

It was your turn to sigh before you nodded. “Ok.” You supposed he was right.

Satoru smiled, then leaned over the table to give you a kiss. One that almost made it, until the door opened again. “Gojo-sensei—"

“What?! What is it now?!”

Yuji stood at the door, startled like a deer at his teacher’s outburst. “I uh…sorry…I’ll just go ask someone else. Sorry.”

He carefully closed the door and Satoru hung his head in defeat. “Damnit.”

“You shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

“I know.” He agreed as he sat back down. “I guess I’ll have to apologize to him too.”

“It seems a little crowded here today.” You tell him. Packing up the lunch, which had been barely picked over, and handed it to Satoru. “Try to eat something later and I’ll see you when you get home. I’ll stay up.”

“It might be really late.”

“I’ll get an iced coffee.”

Satoru smirked, then leaned up to give you a kiss as you pass. “Give Yuji one of the tarts. He’ll like them.”

“But then there will be less for me.” He bemoaned. “Alright, alright! Don’t look at me that way. I’m a good teacher, I swear!”

“I know you are darling.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo x reader #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #scenarios #imagine #female reader

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

You know, part of what bothers me, I think, about some Tonowari and Ronal adopting Spider fics is the demonization of Neytiri, and to some extent, Jake. I’ve made posts about this before, I am number one Spider defender, ya’ll know, but Neytiri’s reactions to him make perfect sense. 

Neytiri is 18 in the first movie. She’s already lost her sister and father right in front of her at an incredibly young age and very traumatically. The spectre of this war and of this destruction has been around basically her entire life. In the comics, Mo’at and Eytukan leave the decision of wether or not to open Grace’s school up to Neytiri and the other children. Neytiri advocates for this school, and then her sister is shot and killed right in front of her at that very building. Neytiri advocates for Jake, trusts him and defends him and lets a human into her heart again, only to find out he has been betraying her the entire time. It’s a vicious cycle I don’t think she can bare to even attempt to repeat again with Spider, and for good reason! In the comics, we learn that half the humans who were deemed trustworthy even defect back to the RDA and betray the Na’vi again. They lived side by side for fifteen years and still weren’t trustworthy. Girl has major trust issues. I’m sure the idea of her kids trusting a human and it getting a sibling of theirs killed like it happened to Sylwanin is very prevalent. Not even mentioning what it means that Spider is Quaritch’s son, the son of the man Jake betrayed her for, and the son of the man responsible for her fathers death and the destruction of her home. Again, she is eighteen in the first movie. Even if the Na’vi mature differently, expecting her to make an emotionally mature response to Spider is irrational, and deadass I think Spider is more empathetic to that than half of you. Obviously, adults are responsible for children and it’s not an excuse for her treatment of Spider. But honestly, Neytiri never directly harms Spider unless absolutely necessary. She leaves him behind to save Kiri. She pushes him in the comics when she blames him for almost getting Kiri and Tuk killed. She cuts him in the movie to convince Quaritch she will kill him. But then she pushes him behind her, not toward Quaritch. Even after this move, she trusts him not to attack her or anything. She pushes him behind her where he is safe. Sometimes the stuff ya’ll write her doing is wild to me. 

Our man Jake Sully (I am a Jake Sully apologist) is 22 in the first movie. I am 23 guys, he’s baby. If I suddenly had three kids and another on the way (I’m including Spider) I would kill myself. No lie. That man is baby that is not a fully developed brain. The way that man soaks up any attention from Grace like he’s never even seen a parent before? Telling. The way he protects Grace and Mo’at specifically during the fall of the Hometree??? I was sideeyeing the hell out of you Jake. Jake and Neytiri needed a full 20 years of therapy and being parented themselves before having any children, first of all, but that’s not the cards they were dealt hmm? Jake is now the leader of a clan of people in a culture and a society and a planet and a species he knew next to nothing about three months ago. And now he’s PARENTING IN IT??? AND HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD AT IT?? AND ALSO THERE IS A WAR??? AND HE HAS MAJOR PTSD?? Anyways what I’m saying is it’s a miracle any of the Sully’s are alive, let alone turned out even remotely chill. 

Saying that the adults around Spider failed him is absolutely correct and completely accurate. They also just were not really adults imo yet. They were barely there, kids who had to grow up way too fast to deal with horrendous things way too quickly, just like the kids in the second movie. Cut them some slack. The number one goal in foster care, family services, counseling, anything like that, is to keep families together. I kinda feel that way about Spider. He’s a Sully god damnit. Saying Ronal and Tonowari would be better parents is insane to me. Obviously, they would. There was no war going on for them, they have no past trauma, and they seem to be older. But idk man, I don’t think that’s his place. For me, found family is about mutual healing and growing with an odd little chosen family. No one is odder than that fucking human marine guy who became an alien and married an alien to have some alien hybrid children and now they gotta officially adopt that weird human kid that’s always around.

(obv I’m still reading all ur Tonowari and Ronal adopting Spider fics tho)

#i've been trying to figure out exactly why tonowari and ronal adopting spider fics make me feel the way they do #which is super uncomfy whenever neytiri or jake are in any scene #or the sully kids sometimes #an exception being i'm still here by alexihollis which i think really confronted the complexities on the situation #and the fact that imo ronal would never and will never like a human unfortunatly #and i think its that jake and neytiri were also basically kids in a warzone in the first movie #and all the decisions they made parenting wise they made kinds still as kids in my opinion #barely adults #too young #jake sully #neytiri sully #jeytiri #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #spider sully #mo'at #eytukan #grace augustine #tonowari #ronal #sylwanin #sully family #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #melissa og #melissa on avatar (cameron) #melissa is an english major

[jocelynhealy]

More Frosty the Kombat Kid ideas that have been bouncing around my head.

Shout out to @running-with-the-feels for getting this au wormed into my head.

Jacqui, Frost, and Takeda can often be found ramblings on and talking tech as the other two just sit there not understanding a word coming out of their friend’s mouth.

Cassie fell first but Frost fell harder, on her face, and down three flights of stairs.

Both Frost and Takeda share the same relationship with sleep as the men that raised them: constantly needing to be reminded that they need it to function as normal human beings.

Kung Jin gets a tad depressed once Cassie and Frost start dating because now everyone in their group spends their time off doing couples things, leaving him behind and alone. It’s Johnny that reassures him that he is the group’s touchstone. The person there to ground the others when everything else in life becomes too much. This is confirmed not two minutes later when Cassie bursts through the door saying they need him to settle a dispute over who has the better aim, her or him (Frost says it’s Jin) and Jacqui asking if he could maybe have a word with Takeda because he’s getting trapped in his own head again and it’s making him a bit of a worry wort.

At first Frost had very little patience for her teammates shenanigans but over time she has grown more, maybe not fond, but tolerant of their hijinks.

Frost once kept Takeda up all night ranting about Cassie which caused him to snap. He had been up for 32 hours at that point and he was just done. Kiss her or kill her, he did not care what Frost chose just leave him alone damnit, it’s 3AM!

No one talks about the Fiji mission. Not because the whole thing went FUBAR, that was no secret, but because it has become something of a game to see how long they can keep the details a secret from Jax.

The only people within the Special Forces (outside of the team of course) that Frost has any respect for are Sonya, Jax, and Kenshi. The rest have not earned it.

Going out with the team is always a culture shock to Frost. She’s never had anything that could even remotely resemble something of a normal life so even things as small as a shopping trip or a double date are completely foreign concepts to her.

Large crowds are not her thing. Too many people. Too many potential threats.

Frost and Takeda have this game/ training exercise where one of them would hide and the other would try to hunt them down, usually ending in a fight. These games could last anywhere between a few hours to a couple of days. Kung Jin once called it extreme hide and seek. He got stabbed with an icicle for that.

#mortal kombat #takeda takahashi #au #kombat kids #mk10 #frost mk #mkx #cassie cage #kombat kid frost au #jacqui briggs #kung jin #mk11

[ovaryacted]

Ok ok ok, so…hear me out. (TW: death, and suicide at the end)

Let’s just say Leon’s kids (maybe they’re a teen at this point) ends up captured by some evil bioweapon lab. The ransom note is essentially ‘leave us alone to do our science or we kill your kid’

I can see this playing out two ways.

The first, Leon tears apart the world. He sees red and essentially blacks out until he’s reunited with his child/ren. He’s awake for the entire time it takes to find them. The only time he actually ‘rests’ is when his body physically crashes and passes out. Even then, he gets nightmares. What if they’re too late and his kid/s become twisted creatures? What if they’re already dead? What if he has to put a bullet in his own precious baby because they were reduced to a shambling zombie, just like RC?

He wakes up screaming. Crying. Sobbing.

Even if he gets to them in time, they’re undoubtedly traumatized. They won’t be child/Ren anymore. They would have been exposed to how fucked the world really is. He starts thinking he’s a failure. He’s failed to protect his kid/s. The ones he loved the most in the world have had their innocence ripped away.

But damnit, when he finds them, you bet your ass he’s not letting them go. He hugs them tightly. Almost too tightly. Leon starts sobbing. They’re unharmed. Untouched by evil science.

When it comes to the escape, he holds their hand. It doesn’t matter how old they are, he’s going to hold onto SOMETHING. They aren’t coming out of his sight ever again. Not after this.

Second scenario, Leon IS too late.

He sees what USED to be his kid/s. If he stared hard enough he could see them, under the shambling, the growling. They were still in there somewhere.

But he was too late. Even if they could get a cure, the damage was done. His child/ren were gone.

The world goes quiet for Leon. His only focus would be on them. All he could hear is his own heartbeat. After he ends their pain, I don’t think he’d go home.

The official report be KIA, but anyone else who was on the mission would know the truth. Leon didn’t want to live without his kid/s.

BUT THEN ITS ALL A NIGHTMARE BECAUSE I MADE MYSELF SAD TYPING THIS AHHHH IM SORRY

cw: religious imagery, mentions of gore and violence, suicide attempt

Hey, angsty anon, I know you remember sending this to me when I was at work and it fucking upset me but I said I would make it worse...well I'm making it a tad bit worse by adding my thoughts to this. Apologies in advance, and of course if you don't want to read some sad shit, don't read it. (I was half asleep writing this so my bad lolz)

I think Leon's family becoming involved in the horrors of bioterrorism, the very thing he's trying so hard to protect his loved ones from, is one of his biggest fears. In this field, he's seen people he cared about, good people, who were abandoned by those meant to protect them and had to alter their bodies to try to feel control. Although Leon does everything to ensure his family is protected, he still falls short when his child gets taken away by an enemy and is used as collateral.

The entire aspect of finally being able to have a life gets to Leon. To have a chance to settle down and have a family of his own which is now being threatened, turns Leon into this vindictive monster just motivated by revenge. On prior missions, he's usually calculated and knows what to do, where to go, and what to bring. But now that his child is involved, his own flesh and blood, yeah he blacks out for most of the mission and is going off of instinct.

He doesn't give his partner much of an explanation when he just says he's going to leave and that he knows he's going to bring his family back together. He can't promise anything, can't promise if he'll come back in one piece or at all, but he will bring his child back home. If being a federal agent working in bioterrorism has taught him anything, is that not everyone comes back. Sometimes he just gets lucky and the cycle repeats.

Leon does not sleep, does not eat, and much less gives a shit about his own safety and health. As far as he knows, he's on a witch hunt to kill the bastard that threatened his family and his happiness. The entire time he's trying to get his child back, his mind goes back to the horrors of all of his missions. He thinks back to the fear he felt in trying to save Sherry, he remembers the way his mind went all hazy on his mission to Spain and saved the president's daughter.

It's all the same. But it has to be different right?

He doesn't consider himself to be a religious person, he used to be back in his youth. But as this rogue mission goes on longer and longer and he spends more time without his child, he starts to silently pray that they're alive, that they haven't been ruined like everything else in this rotten world.

Let's say he does find his kid in one piece, scared and traumatized, probably tucked into a corner in a dingy cell in some run down lab. Leon wrapped his arms around them, apologizing over and over again, looking for forgiveness, and blaming himself for putting his child in danger simply because of the life he was forced to live.

He does get back home in one piece with his child in his arms and eliminates any other possible and future threats so he never has to worry about that again. The people who even think about hurting his family will regret ever doing so. As long as his child is safe and back at home, he thinks he's achieved the impossible and is protecting all that he holds dear.

But let's go on the opposite end of the spectrum. What will happen if Leon doesn't get there in time? If he finds his child turned into some monster as revenge? It would tear him apart, and he will consider this to be his karma for even wanting a better life for himself, a life he doesn't deserve. The person or thing in front of Leon wasn't his child anymore, it was a mess of torn-up limbs and cut skin, and he couldn't feel his child's presence anymore.

His soul is empty as he raises his gun to shoot towards the monster, putting them out of their misery, and the last bit of humanity Leon has left goes with the dead body hitting the ground. He still has a mission to complete, a society to protect, so he focuses on that and refuses to give himself a moment of grieve.

Later he says, I have time later.

He's detached from his reality throughout the remaining time he gives himself to finish off this mission, his last mission. When all the threats are eliminated, he walks around aimlessly, his spirit has run dry and he knows the gaping hole in his chest is too much of a burden to handle. He doesn't cry, he's done enough crying in his life and frankly, he doesn't have any more tears to give.

I've failed. I've failed you. I'm sorry.

The words repeat in his head and he pretends his significant other somehow gets the message that he's not coming back home. He wonders if God will come to save him from this blasphemy, but this is the price he had to pay for having too much blood on his hands, blood he did not want to have.

His hand is steady as he puts the gun to his temple, finger on the trigger and he hears it click, nothingness comes right after. He doesn't feel pain, doesn't feel much of anything, and surprisingly he feels calm...at peace.

Things can't be different. Not this time.

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #resident evil angst #₊˚⊹ ♡ ─ angsty anon

[saltsicklover]

Title: Vienna ☁︎

Master List HERE

Listen to Vienna HERE

A request based off of THIS prompt

Romantic Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x AFAB Reader

Small use of "Y/N"

Word Count: 3300+

Rating: T

Warnings: Medical Inaccuracy, Medical Terminology, Hospital, Passing out, light descriptions of pain, throwing up, heavy Billy Joel references, talks of children and having kids.

If it weren't for the lack of breathe crystalizing in the air, it could have been the dead of winter in those four walls, the world around them frozen. 

"You don't get to make that choice for me," Bradley speaks firm, tone boarding on pitiless. The way he rings his hands does nothing to quell the way Red shakes. "We are a couple, we work through shit together, and now you just want to walk away without any sort of reason as to why?"

Tears swim behind Red's eyelids; her breathing slowing in an fruitless attempt to calm down. 

"You want a reason?" The heels of her hands are pushed into her eyes, Bradley's eyes locked on her chipped nail polish, nails chewed down. Something is wrong. Red always has her nails done. Always shinning with a thick coat of colored lacquer; this is wrong. There are chips in the paint, her skin bitten, torn and red. 

The twisting in Red's stomach does nothing but make her sick, as if she hadn't been nauseous to begin with. It's unclear as to if it's the pain is from the cyst on her ovary that threatens to rupture at any moment, or if the the breaking of Bradley's heart is enough to take out her whole body. A gentle hand comes up to cradle her stomach though it's tender to the touch, protruding in a way that's only comfortable in familiarity. Bradley watches her hand cradling her stomach, letting his gaze follow the line of her arm up to her shoulder. 

"Vienna," Its the only word Red can stutter out, her eyes pressed together so tight it looks painful. 

"Vienna?" Bradley questions, the answer he begged for leading him no closer to understanding why he walked into their shared apartment to find Red packing her bags. 

She would have been gone already if she hadn't spent close to an hour on the cold bathroom floor, the rug scrunched up under her knees. Emptying her stomach in that very bathroom has become too familiar, yet never easier. 

"Yes Bradley, it's because you are the one Billy Joel sings about," Red laments like it's the most obvious thing in the world and that Bradley is just missing it. 

"You have all these goals, these aspirations, these dreams and you are working so fucking hard to get to them. And God damnit Bradley, you're so ahead of yourself that you're forgetting what you need, and I just know that I'm not it, okay? You'd be a fool if you're satisfied with me," 

A few salty tears escape between Red's tightly scrunched eyes, flowing down the wrinkled skin surrounding them. Bradley is exasperated at her reply, his words stuck on his tongue as he flounders. Maybe in some other universe this analogy would make sense, maybe he would be that lost kid Billy Joel is just trying to get to take a goddamn break, but here and now it's leaving Bradley with more questions than straight answers. 

The air around them stands still, neither brave enough to take a breath let alone make the next move. They stand four feet apart, Red scooching back every time Bradley takes a step forward. She is consistently just out of reach, his fingertips just a bit too far away to brush against her burning skin. 

Bradley tries to piece together the broken girl in front of him, wracking his mind for the pieces of her that have been slowly slipping away over the last six months. Red hadn't always been this way, tattered edges and fraying composure. When the pair met, Bradley swore she could stop traffic with her smile alone, from the way her lips curled up at the corners to the bright shade of red lipstick that he quickly understood to be her signature color. 

The first time Bradley sees her, she is sat atop her classic Cadillac with the hood popped, her legs crossed at the knee as she bobs nearly her whole body along to the radio that sits next to her. Bradley pulls his Bronco off to the shoulder, kicking up dirt as he throws his own vintage vehicle into park. The Cadillac is a red beacon just guiding him in, like a lighthouse in a storm. 

"Hey there, Sailor," She flirts from over the top of her sunglasses, the frames pointing out and bedazzled, as Bradley slides out of his vehicle, "Do you save all the pretty girls?"

Then he's laughing before he's even made it all the way to her, a raspberry hue of a blush creeping up over the collar of his uniform. That's Not Her Style by Billy Joel kicks through her little radio, the connection coming in with a handful of static. 

"Aviator, actually," Bradley finally matters as he closes the rest of the space between them, allowing himself to stand right between her newly uncrossed legs. "And of course I do, I am a gentleman after all," 

The comment is half assed flirting on Bradley's part, which is new for him. With a smirk playing on her pretty red lips, she twists the nob on the radio so the music sings just a little bit louder. There's something powerful in the way she looks down at Bradley, but it's him who feels like he is ruling the world with all her attention focused squarely on him. Her eyes drift across his nametag, before making their way back up to his pretty, flushed expression. 

"Okay, Aviator Bradshaw," Bradley fights back a laugh at the name, willing her to keep talking with a nod of his head. She leans forward, just over him and smiles, "Do you think all your airplane knowledge could help me figure out what's goin' on with my Daisy here?" 

"Daisy?" He cocks an eyebrow at her, completely smiting already. Any woman who names her car in a man after his own heart! 

The mystery woman pats the top of her car with a little smile, "Yes, sir," 

That makes Bradley flush deeper, a blackberry tint. He tries not to let his mind wander too far, but in front of this woman who seems to have an affinity for the color, he doesn't mind the intense blush that's rising up under his skin. 

"This is my Daisy, a 1956 Cadillac Eldorado, she's a beauty, isn't she?" The woman looks down at her vehicle but Bradley's eyes are firmly stuck on her. 

"Yes she is," He replies, eyes tracing over the bright red lipstick she has expertly painted onto her lips. "What's your name, sugar?" 

"My name is Y/N, but my friends call me Red," 

"I can see why," Bradley sends a wink up to her, causing her to giggle. "Let me take a look, you just sit up there and keep looking pretty, alright?"

Red brings two fingers up to her forehead, flicking her wrist in a mock salute, "Yes, sir, Aviator Bradshaw," 

All Bradley can do is laugh; he knows he should correct her and tell her that it's actually Lieutenant Bradshaw, but he doesn't dare embarrass her out of fear that she might not meet his eyes again and Bradley can't have that. So, he doesn't say anything, opting to round to the front of the car. As he peers into the engine, Red resumes her cross-legged position, listening to a new song thrum through the cheap radio. 

After a few minutes of staring at nothing in particular, Bradley catches her eye as he rounds back around the vehicle, a sheepish look on his face. "Looks like you need a new valve for your carburetor, nothing I can fix for you right now," 

"Can you drive me into town?" Red asks sweetly.

"Absolutely," Bradley is almost too quick to answer. He runs his sweaty hands off on his tan trousers, leaving behind dirt and oil, his once pristine uniform slacks now unwearable. Then, he reaches up to Red, taking her carefully by the waist, lifting her off the top of the classic car. 

"Thank you, sir," Red peers up from under her lashes, letting her hands slowly slide from around Bradley's neck and down his chest before pulling her hands away all together. It takes Bradley just as long to let go, enjoying the way her body squishes under his powerful hands. 

The ride into town is short, really, but the pair sit inside the Bronco in the parking lot of the auto mechanic's. The radio is playing that damn Billy Joel song again, and Red is humming along, the sound making Bradley's heart swell. Then, Red is sliding over on the bench seat, right into Bradley's space. 

She leans in, taking his chin gently in between her thumb and fingers, before planting a kiss right to his cheekbone. "Thank you," She whispers into his ear, then she's back on her side of the cab, throwing open her door. 

"What was that for?" He asks her, a cheesy grin adorning his face. 

"Just givin' the pilot something extra for a perfect ride," She throws one last wink his way before slamming the door behind her. Bradley watches her hips sway all the way across the parking lot and doesn't take his eyes off her until she is disappearing into the mechanic shop. 

Then, as he's throwing the Bronco into reverse with a glance in the rearview mirror, he catches the kiss print she left behind. It takes him six blocks before he realizes she quoted that damn song to him. 

But now, Bradley barely recognizes the woman in front of him. There is no longer that stunning read lipstick adorning her lips, instead her face is flushed with it's own rosy hue that looks more sickly and burning than it does anything else. Red cradles her stomach, her fingertips pushing into her lower abdomen. Bradley grimaces at the way she digs into the soft flesh of her stomach. 

There's a clear look of discomfort on her features from the way her face is pinched, expression sour. Bradley wants nothing more than to fold her into his arms yet he doesn't make a move. He watches her eyes dart between himself and her suitcase, then to the pile of clothes next to the bed. Red is calculating her next move and all Bradley can do is watch her. 

"Red..." It's a start, her name trailing off his tongue in a tone he has never heard himself use. 

"It's done, Bradley," Her vision is swimming, Bradley's body going fuzzy just beyond her eyelashes. 

"Can I help you pack?" It's a shallow attempt to keep her close just a little while longer, like he's pushing his cupped hands together to the last little bits of their relationship from slipping through his fingers. 

Red can't say a word, everything stuck in her throat all jagged and laced with pain. A couple tears slip from her lash line, streaking down her face as she nods to him. And so, gently Bradley sits down on the floor and begins folding her clothes. Each article is soft against the rough, seasoned skin of his fingers. 

Carefully, Bradley pulls all of her undergarments from the pile, straightening them out and laying them flat so they can be easily packed. Each pair stained with angry looking patches from blood long washed away. Each and every pair, Bradley notices, stained to some degree. Some are worse than others, sure, but not a single pair are left unmarked. 

The sight of it make's Bradley's stomach churn. So does the way Red is kneeling just a few feet away, her head to her knees with pain written into her features. Bradley's hands slow, the tee-shirt in his hands becoming nothing more than a crumbled garment as his attention is fixed slowly on his girl. He does his best to ignore his own tears that are threatening to take over. Red whimpers like she is holding back a scream. 

"Red?" There is too much panic in Bradley's voice. Then, she is slumping forward, her body going limp. Bradley's world moves in slow motion as he watches Red pass out, his mind replaying the way the tension leaves her body just as gravity takes her. It's a good thing she was already on the floor, her head not smacking against the floor or any furniture on the way down. 

There is a sort of  humanity in the way Bradley cradles Red in his arms, bringing her head up to rest against his shoulder, her back laying against his chest. He positions her right between his legs, wrapping a strong arm around her frame. It's the way so many have cradled their loved ones before.

With a quick phone call an ambulance is headed their way. 

As the paramedics haul Red down the hallway on the stretcher, Bradley can't seem to move from his spot on the floor. Here he is surrounded by her half packed suitcase and her collection of stained underwear. He knows there is still a half full glass of water with just a squeeze too much lemon sitting on her bedside table. Red's robe still hangs on the hook in the bathroom, just waiting for her next post bath routine. 

Here is littered with her, and Bradley knows he has to fight for her harder, because Red is his endgame and Vienna is only worth it if she is by his side. 

The drive to the hospital seems like a cloudy memory to Bradley, though he is sure he ran a red light. It's hours before a nurse guides Bradley back to Red's room and all Bradley can think about is the look of sympathy on that nurses face and the way Red looks so fucking small in the hospital bed. 

The nurse disappears not a moment later, leaving Bradley to stand and stare at Red's features from across the room. Slowly, he creeps up to her bedside, taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair positioned next to her. 

Bradley takes in the slope of her nose as he pushes hair back from her forehead. He brushes his knuckles over her cheek and in that moment he realizes this is the first time he hasn't seen her in pain for months. The realization hits him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. He doesn't know why it took him so long to notice, why he never realized that his girl was struggling, Bradley has no idea what's wrong with her. 

He knows he shouldn't do it, but Bradley takes the chart off the end of the bed. He flips through the thick pages of the chart, scanning for anything he can make sense of. 

PROCEDURE: TOTAL HYSTERECTOMY 

CAUSE: FIBROIDS

PRIOR DIAGNOSISES: ENDOMETRIOSIS, OVARIAN CYCSTS 

They are terms Bradley doesn't recognize, yet they make his stomach churn with anxiety. He spends the night at Red's bedside, one hand laced with hers while he scrolls through the internet with the other. He bounces from medical websites to reddit forums, they Mayo Clinic to a medical textbook he found the PDF for somewhere in the recesses of the internet. 

The information he learns is vast, too much for him to digest in such little time. The sickness Bradley feels is a mix of guilt and exhaustion, the feeling that he has failed as a partner hanging over him. 

Red finally wakes the next morning, groggy and confused as a doctor and nurse stand over her, checking her progress. A nurse carefully works at changing the bandages on her abdomen, an ache panging through Red as she comes to. 

"Wha-?" She tries, but the nurse is quick to sooth her. 

"It's alright, doll, Dr. Greene and I are taking good care of you," She coos as she works, her eyes fluttering between her work and Red's face. 

"You're in the hospital," The doctor begins, his bedside manner leaves something to be desired, "You were brought in after you lost consciousness. You had an ovarian cyst burst, and we had to operate. However, when we got inside, we discovered that your endometriosis had progressed rapidly and you had large fibroids. We had to take everything, so we preformed a full hysterectomy. I'm sorry I don't have better news," 

Bradley listens to the doctor from the other side of the room, his head swimming with information. He knew this explanation was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for Red's reaction to the heartbreaking news. 

"It's alright," Red manages, "I had an appointment to for my pre-op pap, anyway," 

The nurse looks so sympathetic, almost like there are tears in her eyes but Bradley can't quite make it out. 

"So you know that you will no longer be able to carry children, nor will you be able to have a biological child," The question is met with a tired nod, sadness written deep into the lines of her face. 

In that moment it all falls into place for Bradley. 

All he has ever wanted is a family of his own, and Red knew she wouldn't be able to give that to him. She wouldn't be able to carry his child, or any child. So, she hid it, the ability to face the man she loves and absolutely break his heart's just too much. That's why she was leaving. 

Not because she didn't love him, no. 

But because she loves him enough to make sure he had every chance to live out that dream. So he could get everything he wants, even if it's not with her.

"Oh, Red," Bradley sighs, tears slipping from his eyes. The doctor and the nurse slip out the door quietly, leaving the pair alone. 

"Bradley?" Red asks like she can't believe he is standing in front of her. "Why are you here?"

He tries to keep that question from breaking his heart, but he feels a bit more fragile as he takes his seat next to her once more. 

"I couldn't leave you," It's the truth, but there's more he has to say sitting heavily on his tongue. "I know why you tried to walk away," 

The way she sighs makes them both ache. She doesn't say a word, so Bradley continues, slipping his hand into hers. 

"Do you really think that I would throw away everything we have, the life we have built together just because of this?" 

"But, Bradley," Red whimpers, trying to pull her hand back. He squeezes it harder, not letting it slip from his grasp. 

"Red, I need you to hear this. I have wanted kids my whole life, you know that. I wanted them with you, because you are my everything, but kids have never been the end game. It's you and I, that's the endgame. A ring on your finger and a little house somewhere off the beach, maybe a little prop plane and a dog. God, Red, you are my endgame, and no ability to have children, or not have them is going to change that. I can't lose you, Red, you're it for me," 

They are both crying, ugly tears and snot slick across their faces. The way they clutch each others hands like they might drift apart if they let go. 

"I love you, Red, and Vienna waits for us both, together,"

"Together," Red manages through the pain, through the tears. Bradley stands, brushing her hair back once more before pressing an overly wet kiss to the center of her forehead. When he sits back down, he pulls his phone from his pocket. With quick fingers music slowly begins to pour through the speakers, filling the quiet of the hospital room. 

"Slow down you crazy child 

You're so ambitious for a juvenile

But then if you're so smart tell me

Why are you still so afraid?"

Bradley sings the words to her, his voice low and full of love. Red listens to him as her eyes begin to droop, sleep threatening to take over. She fades in and out for a few minutes with the verses. Somewhere between wake and sleep, Red pictures Vienna in the way Bradley described, the vision taking over her dreams. 

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