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oliviajdjarin · 5 months

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Din Djarin: Come and Get Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a job leaves you trapped, you realize how much you have come to trust the legendary Mandalorian.

Excerpt: “Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

Warnings: claustrophobia, panicking, panic attack, crying, so much banter, dinny boy gets *stern, * but only because he is in love hehe.

A/N: happy dincember my people :)

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

(gif credit to pinterest)

“Why are droids always so angry?”

A deep sigh arose through your comlink.

“Because everyone is always pushing their buttons.”

Silence.

“You’re holding back your laughter.”

“That is absolutely not what is happening,” Din responded, voiced husked with his ever-present exhaustion.

“I can feel it,” you countered. “You are actively killing braincells trying to hold it back.”

“That is not what is killing my braincells,” Din responded, and you gave a dry chuckle back.

“Just get the credits and get out,” Din said, “we have other jobs to do.”

“Yes sir,” you responded sarcastically, pulling down your mask. It was a soft obsidian fabric that covered everything but your eyes.

“Need I remind you it is your fault we are here in the first place?” Din asked, knowing it would push your own button.

Greef had known you since you were a kid, your parents always calling him a “close family friend.” In actuality, your parents were his most profitable bounty hunters, and they had worked with him until they physically couldn’t anymore.

Without hesitation, choosing you take their place.

They had trained you from birth, ingraining into you the strength, cleverness, patience, persistence, and of course the wit needed to be an adequate replacement.

In Greef’s own words, you were “more than adequate.”

You worked for him for over a decade before finally meeting the infamous Mandalorian. His name had been circling for a while before you met him, allowing him to climb the ladder of Greef’s good graces (a particularly slippery ladder, in your opinion), as well as the ladder of wealth. You didn’t mind at first, sticking to the lot of bounties Greef would assign you every month, and minding your business.

That was until this Mandalorian started getting your pick of the lot.

“He’s just as good as you are,” Greef had said to you. “Your skill sets are incredibly complimentary. It is best for me financially to have you both going at once.”

You scoffed into your drink. “Give me a break, smartass. Next thing I know it will ‘best for you financially’ to have us working together.”

“It was a joke, asshole,” you responded to Din. “I’ll admit, not one of my best.”

Din sighed and remained silent. After two dozen jobs together, he had learned how old that jab was becoming.

“Going in now,” you said quietly, pulling out your gun and – as quietly as you could – shooting through the lock on the front door of what had to have been the biggest house you had ever seen. The outside was made with some rare limestone that glimmered in the moonlight which, in your opinion, literally shouted “rob me.” The owners of this house had tricked Greef, running off with the sum of money he had owed you and Din for a previous job (quite convenient, if you said so yourself). Greef agreed to pay you and Din triple your original salary if you got it back for him.

And here you were.

The door squeaked on its hinges as you opened it, revealing a pitch-black living area. You took one step inside, and as you did, a generator must have kicked on, because the room was instantly lit up. You gasped, stepping back in fear of a possible alarm, but as you waited a few seconds, there was no such thing.

“You okay?” Din asked quietly. If you weren’t shitting your pants, you might have teased him for seeming like he actually cared.

“Yeah,” you responded, winded. “Yeah. Fine.”

You looked around the room, jaw falling open slowly as you did. It might as well have been a museum. Paintings, vases, chandeliers, stones, and jewels. You could tell one thing and one thing only.

Whoever these people were, they were fucking loaded.

“Hey, Din,” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did Greef say anything about being allowed to steal anything else?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Got it,” you said, and moved further into the house.

“Greef paid some gungan to have dinner with them, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house.”

“I was at the meeting for this job, Din.”

“I know,” he said, “Just checking.”

His voice was laced with an undertone of…hurt. You didn’t have time to think about that.

“I’m headed to the master bedroom,” you said, weaving your way through objects worth more than you would ever see in ten lifetimes. “I’ll let you know when I find the box.”

“Alright,” Din responded, and you carried on.

You circled the first floor of the house, hemming and hawing at what seemed to be an endless supply of riches.

“Are we focused, Y/N?”

“Lazer,” you responded after almost touching the shiniest blue stone you had ever seen. “Nothing on the first floor.”

“Okay,” Din responded. “How-how you holding up?”

Your eyebrows wrinkled together. “Fine. How about you?”

“I’m good,” he said softly. “Just now realizing we have never done a job like this before. Me only hearing you through the comlink. I’m used to being next to you.”

“Oh, the poor Mandalorian, all alone in the desert, cursed with the job of keeping watch. You missing me big guy?”

“Just missing being faster than you,” he jabbed. “It’s good for my ego.”

“Har har,” you responded, opening the first door you found at the top of the stairs. “You can’t deny I give you a run for your money though.”

“You sure do,” he said, once again laced with emotion. What the fuck was with him?

And why did you keep noticing?

You opened the door and were welcomed by what had to have been the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It took up half the room, with the rest of it being looted with more treasures, including plants, shelves of books, and…

…a music box.

“Bingo,” you said.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a game you play for fun,” you responded. “You wouldn’t be familiar with the concept.”

“Very original.”

“I’ll be here all night,” you said with a smirk, and walked to the box. You pulled it off the shelf delicately, feeling the weight of credits in the bottom. You laughed happily, unable to hold it in.

Din laughed too. He understood immediately.

You felt for the seal on the front and began to pull it open carefully. You got it about halfway open before it immediately shut, snapping your fingers into it.

“Mother –” you said, pulling your fingers out and holding them to your chest.

“You okay?” Din asked quickly, almost as soon as the word left your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said, flexing your fingers. You laughed lightly. “I think this house may be out to get me.”

As if you spoke it into existence, all the lights in the house suddenly shut down, soaking you in darkness. Strobe lights of red began to pulse on the ceiling, the door to the bedroom shut automatically, and an ear-piercing alarm permeated the room.

You were suddenly unmoving.

“Y/N?” Din asked, his voice a whisper above the alarms. “Y/N, what is that?”

The box fell from your grip.

“Din…” you said, chest constricting, muscles locking, brain failing. “Din…”

“What’s going on?”

You started shaking your head, making your way to the door slowly. You jiggled the doorknob, then pulled on it, then yanked on it, then threw your body into it.

It was no use. You were locked in from the outside.

“Din, I –” your voice cracked with a sob. “Din, I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded like he was walking.

“I’m-I’m trapped,” you said, sobs now fully escaping from your mouth. “Din I’m trapped. They know I’m here. They’re gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, hand cupping your mouth as you began to hyperventilate, because suddenly, you were a child again. Put up against one of your parents’ countless tests. Locked in a basement, or a ship, or your own room, forced to find a way out, told that in the real world, if you couldn’t find a way out, you would likely be killed.

You could never pasts their tests. Never.

“Din, they’re gonna kill me.”

“Shut up,” he said firmly. It sounded like he was moving faster. “You’re not gonna die.”

His tone was unconvincing.

“Din,” you cried, tears staining the fabric covering your face, snot soaking through it. Panic was seeping itself into your bones. “Din, what do I do? What do I do?”

“You’ve gotta find a way out.”

“I can’t,” you wheezed, body sliding down the door and onto the floor, the alarms and the red overstimulating your every nerve. “I can’t Din. It’s so loud,”

“Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

You nodded, now plugging your ears, and closing your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth subconsciously.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” he said, his voice suddenly nasally. “I swear to the maker I’m going to get you out of there. I just need your help, okay?”

You tried your best to gather breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay,” he said. “I need you to see if there are any windows in the room. Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed, standing on shaking legs, ears still plugged. You squinted as you walked slowly, finally reaching a wall. You then felt the wall with one hand and walked forward until you felt something that resembled glass.

“I-I found one.”

“Good,” he said, sounding peculiarly winded. “Now, I’m going to need you to break it.”

You sobbed once more. “How?”

“Anything. Shoot at it, throw things at it, the fucking music box for all I care. Anything.”

You swallowed again, breathing in as deep of a breath as you could, before pulling out your gun. You felt the glass once again, and slowly backed away from it. You continued to release faint cries as you did, holding up your gun with quivering fingers, before letting blasts fly.

You heard some cracks as they landed against the glass. Once you halted your firing, you made your way back over to it, and realized they weren’t nearly enough.

“I’m going to have to kick it,” you said, some semblance of power returning into your voice.

Din didn’t respond.

You backed away again, breaths still rapid and voice still raw. But you gave that piece of fucking glass your all.

Your foot went right through it, cutting shards into your calf and ankle.

You grunted, falling back into the room.

“You get it?” Din asked, panting.

“Yeah,” you said, clutching your leg. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good. Now stand up.”

You did.

“Walk to the window.”

You did.

“And jump.”

“What?”

“Jump now.”

It was in that moment that you realized that you truly, unequivocally, deeply trusted the Mandalorian. Because you jumped into the dark, cold night, and he caught you, mid-air.

You gasped as you landed in his arms, watching as the ground beneath you whizzed by, eyelids pealed back in awe.

A smooth, gloved hand framed your cheek and pulled your vision upwards, locking it into his visor.

You stared at him, the remnants of tears against the cold wind freezing your face, and yet his hand was the true culprit of your goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. The flames from his jet pack illuminating his armor in golds and reds.

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, diverting his gaze to stare forward into the night, but keeping his hand pressed against your face.

You would say it was the shock, or the trauma, or the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In reality, all you wanted was comfort – his comfort. You couldn’t stop yourself.

You rested your forehead against the side of his visor and closed your eyes, scooting your body as close to his as possible as the two of you shot through the sky.

“Thank you, Din,” you said, tears escaping you once more. “Thank you.”

Din audibly swallowed, then removed his hand from your cheek and used it to remove your mask, before sliding his hand into the hair at the back of your neck.

“I swore to you I’d get you out of there,” he said, his voice crackly and weak. “I don’t break promises.”

You nodded against his visor, clutching desperately onto the fabric around his neck. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

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anisespice · 25 days

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12:34am — manjiro sano

Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming.

As soon as they were situated in a secluded area of the quaint, little ramen bar they occasionally visited, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t relent until it revealed itself. The next thing MIKEY knew, right after the server placed steaming food on the table and left the room, a gaggle of low-rate thugs came barreling in, guns drawn and aimed practically in his face with misplaced confidence. He didn’t even flinch, just set his chopsticks back down with a slow exhale through his nose.

“Can I at least eat a little before you try to kill me?” Mikey muttered, disinterested gaze briefly scanning over the opposition, sizing them up. Wack.

“Your last meal’s finna be this bullet, asshole. This what happens when you fuck with the Tokyo Vipers. We don’t care how tough you are, you’re gonna pay for what you did to Boss Nakashima!”

“Who?” Clearly, not the response they were looking for.

A stand-off commenced, his executives quick to pull out their own weapons, choosing a target with full intent to kill. The one guy focused on Mikey remained adamant to land one right between his eyes, resolve unshakable even with two or three guns aimed back at him. He’d give the idiots credit for boldness. Not everyday does the common thug grow the balls to try something with Bonten.

Unfortunately, they chose the wrong night to chase retribution.

“M-Manjiro…what’s happening?”

At the meek sound of your voice, he subtly reached for you under the table. You practically shook like a leaf, doe-eyes wide at the sight of a gun aimed at your lover with hands raised high as if you were also to blame—Definitely not the ‘simple night out’ you anticipated when he invited you to tag along. It was his own fault really, thinking simple was ever an option when it came to his reputation, not even for a night.

“A-Are they gonna kill us?” You cried, scooting closer to lean against his frame for more comfort. It made him relax a smidge, taking it as a good sign. “Please, j-just name your price, whatever the number, and it’s yours! You don’t have to do this-”

“Unless your money can bring back the dead, sweetheart, you can shove it up your ass!”

Mikey felt you jolt. Sparing you a side glance, his thumb caressed your thigh in small, reassuring circles. His poor baby, must be scared out of your mind. The blonde wanted nothing more than to shatter every bone in the bastards who put such an expression on your face.

“Let my girl step out. This doesn’t involve her.”

“The bitch stays. Want ‘er to watch you die.” The assailant hissed, thrusting the gun forward to bump against Mikey’s forehead.

His brow twitched in annoyance, grip around your thigh tightening ever so slightly as his mind filled with various ways to snap the guy’s arm without you bearing witness. The last thing Mikey wanted was you being afraid of him. You were a slice of normalcy in his chaotic life. Call him selfish, but he wanted you to stick around despite the ugly parts of it, hoping to hide it for as long as he could. Evidently, it was short-lived.

He knew he didn’t deserve it. You were too pure for a tainted soul like his, too soft for someone who’d been hardened by life, too—

“Bitch? ”

The whole room came to a halt.

All eyes had flicked over to you, uncertain if that bone-chilling tone came out of such a meek little thing, who not even seconds ago was visibly trembling. Now you were still as stone, delicate features no longer consumed by fear but contempt as you stared down the man with a slight tilt in your head. Even with tears clinging to your lashes, it was very unsettling.

You gave a hollowed chuckle. “Oh, you got me fucked up.”

The assailant blinked. “Wha-?”

“Shut up, let me tell you something,” you abruptly stood, nearly giving the Bonten men heart palpitations, fearing your next sudden move might be your last. Mikey, however, merely watched in stunned silence, hand that comforted you now hovering awkwardly as he blinked up at you. Jabbing a finger into the man’s chest, you hissed, “You can come up in here waving guns all you want, but I’ll be damned if some limped-dick, broke motherfucker calls me out my name.”

He gaped, then fixed his mouth to threaten you. “Sit your ass down before I make you regret ever meeting this scumbag, you little—”

With a quickness, you swing with a crisp thwack! to the side of his head. The room clamored about, even Mikey found himself blinking rapidly at not only your swiftness, but your audacity. With the opposition aiming their guns on you immediately, the executives instantly jetted their attention over to Mikey to gauge his reaction. He remained visual unnerved, save for the slight drop in his jaw.

“SHIT—FUCK,” the man yowled, stumbling back. With his ear ringing, vision blurring with tears, it was a wonder where you kept all that unbridled strength. Was this the same person who feared for their life not even moments ago? When he clumsily regained composure, he looked at you utterly stunned. “D—…Did you just fucking slap me? Have you lost your mind, you crazy—?!”

You raised your hand, making him flinch. “Say it again. I dare you.”

Flabbergasted. Shockandawe. Slightly aroused?

That was the consensus of every gun-wielder in the room, some more than others unable to mask the evident thrill from hearing such vulgar and venomous words drip from such a pretty mouth…Mikey being the first in line. Man’s still gawked with a glint in his eye that could only be described as carnal; since when had his kitten grown claws?

“GYAT.” Ran winced, then gave a snicker. That smack alone bounced off the walls, he just knew that had to smart. “Shake it off, buddy, shake it off.”

Sanzu, with a cackle, exclaimed, “Hit ‘em again!” earning a glare from the aggravated assailant, his gun now pointed at you and no longer on Mikey.

Kakucho grew anxious, the others just as on edge. If they didn’t take action soon, someone was bound to get trigger-happy. The situation was already unpredictable as is, but with your newfound attitude, things were sure to escalate fast. He gruffly voiced, “Boss, what’s our move?…Boss?”

Said blonde paid no kinds of attention.

Head void of any thought aside from your angelic form beneath the soft lighting standing your ground without an ounce of fear, one would think Mikey was in a trance. His bleak stare practically singed right through you, calculative as he watched your pristine facade unravel bit by bit—Such vicious words filled with vinegar and oil, a contrast to your usual peaches and cream, such discourtesy when you’re normally so well-mannered.

How long had you been hiding this side from him?

Mikey thought he had you figured out, from the moment you crossed paths he was certain he’d taint you, the walking cliche of a spoon-fed daddy’s girl who wouldn’t harm a fly, who dated bad boys just to feel something. But now? He wanted nothing more than to unravel you further, leaving you raw and exposed to reveal the devil horns you’d kept hidden behind a false halo.

And frankly, he wouldn’t mind an audience.

“Mikey.” Kakucho urged.

Said blonde hummed in acknowledgment, eyes lazily trailing off you and back at his number three, seemingly distracted. With a wordless exchange, he sighed. Just as things were getting interesting… Mikey reached up and gave the back of your thigh a tender squeeze. You turned to look at him, seething as you rebelled against his silent command. Oh, he’ll enjoy fucking that attitude out of you later.

“Sit down, [_____]. Think you’ve made your point.”

You sneered. “Like hell! My point’s been made when I have this dickhead crawling on his knees, begging for mercy—!”

Before you knew it, you’re grabbed by your thigh and pulled down into his lap. You yelped, arms instinctively shooting out to grab onto something until you landed with a small oof!

As you opened your mouth to protest, your breath hitched and the words catch in your throat at the cool feeling of Mikey’s gun now nudging against your clit through the lace of your underwear. A shutter ran through your body. Thankfully, your little display was enough cover for him to swiftly grab it from his side, playing it off as if he were restraining you.

He leaned in to speak low in your ear. “Cover your ears, baby.”

Goosebumps spread like wildfire across your skin, warmth simmering in the pit of your stomach from both frustration and excitement. Doing as you’re told, you pressed hands into your ears but kept your gaze on the offender in front of you. He was yelling about something, booming voice muffled but no doubt throwing out more threats. His group began to shrink within themselves once the severity of the situation caught up with them, and the odds no longer looked to be in their favor. You almost felt sorry for them; almost.

Before the poor bastard even knew what hit him, the smoking barrel of Mikey’s .45 was the last thing he saw before he hit the cold, hard floor with a hole in the center of his forehead. And just like that, bullets rained from every angle on your side of the room, bodies piling up one after the other until none were left standing. As quick as they came, there they went—Nothing more than stains on what was an originally calm evening.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Mikey could feel it elsewhere.

With his free hand having rested on your inner thigh, thumb dangerously close to where his pistol once was, he could feel a subtle pulse in your clit from the thrilling experience. While his men busied themselves cleaning up the scene, gathering corpses and making disposal arrangements, there was nothing left to distract him from prodding.

“It appears I’ve underestimated you. What other sides have you kept hidden from me, I wonder.” He said, tilting his head.

You whimpered as his thumb pressed against your throbbing little button, biting your lip before replying, “I-I just don’t like.. being talked to that way…”

Mikey hummed, nosing at your jaw. “My sweet girl. She got her feelings hurt, hm?”

It was hard to concentrate with him playing with you beneath the table in front of his subordinates, spreaking low and softly as he littered your sensitive spots with nips and warm kisses. With the little sanity you had left, you nodded. To your horror, you moaned quite loudly when he breached past your underwear to slip two fingers inside of you with ease thanks to your flooding arousal. But, you got over it the second he immediately curled them to hit that spongey area of your walls with a precision that nearly made you see stars.

“Your words, [_____]. You had a lot to say earlier, what happened?”

You gripped his forearm for dear life, jaw dropping as your legs subconsciously spread to give him better access. “Y-Yes!”

He cooed, arm flexing as he pushed his fingers deeper while his thumb stimulated your clit. Your back arched off his front, other hand reaching out to grip the table as you whined shamelessly at the ceiling. Neither of you paid any mind to where you were, or whomever watched, too caught up in the moment. Food had long gone cold and forgotten, bullet fragments scattered at your feet and blood splattered all on the walls. Even with his stomach growling angrily, all he could focus on was devouring you. “‘m sorry, baby. Let me make it all better.”

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

#🍁wasabi #this walked so ‘block boy’ could RUN #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tr smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyorev smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #manjiro sano #manjiro x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

Text

taken

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, crime boss!rafe, (former) stripper!reader, drug dealing, prostitution/sex club, multiple murders, guns, shooting, kidnapping, unprotected p in v sex, tit slapping, male receiving handjob, kind of rough sex? its not that intense idk

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe stands on the upper balcony, his hands on the railing as he leans to look at the crowd moving below his feet, a mix of grinding and bumping bodies in various states of undress. his eyes search for you. he always searched for you in the crowd, making sure there is a smile on your face, and that there are no grabby hands touching parts of you that are well and solely his.

it wasn’t a crazy leap from what rafe did in his teenage years. moving from selling drugs to running a club. not just any club, of course. rafe called it a loose clothing policy club, but really it was constant sex parties behind the doors, doors that people pay a lot of money to get on the other side of.

he, of course, kept up the lucrative drug business, but passed off the actual sale and deal to some underlings. it may not make him a completely legitimate businessman like his father, but it got him a hell of a lot closer to it, and the money got him a lot more respect as well. among the drug dealers and bartenders in his employ, he also has dancers. dancers who just happen to feel the urge to get on top of the bar and take their clothes off while the crowd cheers.

dancers don’t have to engage in any acts of sexual nature with the guests if they don't want to, but most choose to for the generous tips they give, on top of the wage rafe gives them. except for you. he hired you fresh out of college, with a bachelor's degree in arts that you had nothing you could do with, not while staying in north carolina at least. you were confident and beautiful, but you never went too far with any of the men or women who came into the bar, not until rafe approached you one night.

you’ve been his since. his girl, who he allows out on nights that he’s there to watch over you, not truly trusting even his security to keep you safe, just himself. he knows you like to drink and dance, and he’d never stop you from doing whatever you like to do, even if it means he’s internally seething with jealousy, glaring at every man who looks at you.

“sir.” the voice brings rafe out of his own head, looking over.

“what is it?” he questions, voice gruffer than he means for it to come out.

“one of the dealers wants to talk with you.” he replies. rafe would get upset, he hates being interrupted, but this is one of his best men. “he’s already in your office.”

“fine.” rafe sighs, eyes glancing back over the floor. “watch y/n.” he simply says before walking away, knowing he doesn’t need to get into the specifics of never looking away or letting anyone touch you.

“what do you want, martin?” rafe asks, slamming the door shut behind him, moving his hands to his hips, pushing his suit jacket out of the way, letting the gun that he keeps holstered on his hip be in plain sight, a warning and a reminder.

“i want to talk to you about the cut you’re taking.” martin responds, his eyes wild and crazy, and rafe has no doubt that he’s dipping into the drugs hes supposed to be selling. rafe knows the feeling well, but he got out of all of that once his mind started to lose focus too often, and the drugs got too irresistible.

“the cut i’m taking?” rafe questions. “of the drugs that i supply you?” “there wouldn’t be any money if it weren’t for me selling.” martin responds, his hands twitching on his knees, fingers grimy.

“you think i couldn’t have another seller lined up immediately? i can’t believe you’d bug me with this shit.” rafe groans. he wants to get his eyes back on you, immediately.

“wait!” martin says as rafe turns to the door. rafe has to take a deep breath to not deck him immediately, his hands clenching in a fist. “since you don’t want to give me a cut, i want $100k. for reimbursement.” rafe lets out a barking laugh, shaking his head. “and why would i do that?” “because if you don’t, i’m not gonna let your girl go.” martin says, a sick grin coming to his face. “my associate should be taking her out of the building right now, so it’s 100k or she-”

rafe doesn’t let martin finish his sentence. he doesn’t want to hear what is about to fall out of his gross mouth, he simply raises his gun and shoots him square between the eyes. martin falls to the ground, dead before he even realized that the gun was unholstered.

a group of rafes men rush into the office upon hearing the gunshot, but rafe doesn’t care about the body on the floor. “find y/n! immediately!” he shouts, pushing past all of them to rush down the stairs to the main level.

the club explodes into action, every crevice being searched for you. rafe rushes outside along with his men, eyes searching for anything suspicious, when he sees a black van speeding away. rafe doesn’t question his movements or the implications, raising his gun and shooting at the tire, causing the van to spin to a stop.

rafe runs over as quickly as his legs will carry him, throwing open the back doors of the van, his heart breaking when he sees you looking so small, hands tied together and gag shoved into your mouth, your eyes wide and clothing askew.

“shh, i’m here baby.” rafe says, grabbing you out of the van, undoing your hands carefully and taking the gag out of your mouth.

“rafe!” you sob, hiding your face in his shoulder as he picks you up, holding you against him, rubbing over your back even as his hands shake at the fact that he almost just lost you.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” rafe says, but you just continue to cry into his shirt.

“sir.” one of rafes men says. the one that he tasked to watch you, the one that let you out of his sight, let you get taken. “what do you want us to do with the driver?”

theres another dealer rafe recognizes, kneeling on the street, eyes flicking between rafe and the gun pointed at him. rafe doesn’t care if he could give more information, he hurt his girl, and that means only one fate is meant for him. rafe raises his gun and shoots the dealer himself, before turning it to his own man.

“no! sir, plea-” rafe doesn’t let him finish his sentence. you shudder and keep your face pressed against rafes shirt, knowing that you don’t want to see whatever just happened.

“let this be a lesson on what happens if you ever cross me.” rafe says, addressing his men. “now clean this shit and my office up. i’m taking y/n home. i will get back in touch in the morning.”

rafe doesn’t bother going back inside. he walks straight to his car, setting you down in the passenger seat, sighing sadly when you curl up, rubbing at your wrists.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your hair before rounding the car, quickly turning it on and heading towards home.

he takes a deep breath once he’s passed the well secured gate, knowing that you’re more than safe in the walls of his mansion.

“do you want to talk about it?” rafe asks once he gets you inside, and onto the couch, a cup of water in our hand.

“it was just so scary.” you pout, eyes turning downward. “they grabbed me out of the crowd, and shoved that nasty rag in my mouth so i couldn’t scream.”

“i will kill everyone involved.” rafe says, and you know he’s serious. you press your hands to his cheeks, bringing him into a kiss.

“it’s okay.” you whisper. your words won’t stop him, but you want to take some of the guilt away. “i knew you would save me.” “i should have protected you in the first pla-”

“shh.” you interrupt rafe, pressing your lips together again. “can we get in the bath? together? please.” rafe nods, he’d do anything for you, he already had the bathroom ripped out and redone to fit a larger bathtub after he learned how much you love soaking in the warm water.

“let me carry you.” rafe stops you when you try to stand, scooping you into his arms. you look so little again, swallowed up against his big chest. it makes him think of you in that trunk, and he moves faster up the stairs, needing to be curled up against you in the tub, making you feel better.

“choose a bathbomb, honey.” rafe sets you down on the cool tile. “i restocked.”

you hum a nod and look through the cabinet until you find a sparkly white bathbomb. you know rafe would usually complain about you usually using a glittery bathbomb when he was joining you, but today is the one day you can get away with it.

“this one.” you hand it to rafe, who drops it into the tub that he started filling with hot water.

“can i undress you?” rafe questions. you nod, knowing how much he likes to be the one to take your clothes off. he moves so slowly disrobing you, carefully putting your dress in the hamper, that when you’re nude, the bath is filled enough for you to get in.

you sigh happily as the warm water covers your body, watching rafe undress while the drama of the day washes away. it’s become a part of your reality, threats against you or rafe, but this is the most dangerous situation you’ve directly been in yet, and you know rafe needs to relax as much as you do.

rafe slides into the tub behind you, letting you rest against his chest. “you know i can only stand to be with you naked for so long before i’m going to need to take you out of this bath and fuck you.” “i know.” you say, swirling your hands through the sparkly water. “just at least 15 minutes just relaxing before.” “i can do that for you.” rafe says, and you both fall quiet, mind reeling from the day and just needing some rest. your eyes flutter closed, hands softly stroking over rafes thighs on either side of your hips. rafe leans his head against the back of the tub, allowing himself to take a breath.

the water starts to grow cold, and rafe is sure he must have reached the 15 minute mark by now, but you are leaning against him so peacefully he doesn’t want to move you, eyes checking over your wrists, noticing that they’re slightly red, even though you were only tied up for a few short minutes.

you begin to squirm, clearly noticing the cool water.

“baby-” rafe gasps when your bum rubs against his crotch, and you feel him hardening.

you turn around in the tub to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “fuck me, rafe.” rafe stands quickly, grabbing the towel and drying himself off before helping you out of the tub, taking careful consideration to dry you as well, rubbing the soft towel over every inch of your body.

“we are all glittery.” you smile, admiring your shiny skin.

“you’re lucky i love you.” rafe says, making you blush. you know he didn’t take you in just to have sex with you, even if that was the main reason you became his girl at first, but because he had genuinely been interested in you.

“and i’m also lucky you’re going to fuck me.” you giggle, heading into the bedroom and letting yourself flop onto the bed, not caring that the dripping ends of your hair will wet the sheets, not with what you’re about to do on them.

rafe walks slowly out of the bathroom, a feral look in his eyes, a shift happening inside of him, one from taking care of you, making you feel better, to one of needing you, needing to possess you and take you.

you watch as he approaches, climbing onto the bed and slotting his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath him. rafes cock is now fully hardened, standing at attention as his heavy balls weigh down against your skin, clearly needing to be released, and you prefer that release to happen pumped inside of you.

his hands shoot forward to grip your tits, making you moan, his warm palms massaging your sensitive skin, letting your nipples rub against his hands. rafe is often quiet when fucking you, depending on how he is feeling. you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s got anger bubbling up inside of him, that needs a release, and you are here for using.

rafe leans forward, pushing his cock against the smooth skin of your stomach. rafe begins to rub his cock against your skin, letting it glide back and forth, the head of his cock smearing precum as his fingers pinch your nipple before rubbing over them.

he bends down to capture your mouth in a dominant kiss, and you let him take control, his tongue licking into yours, as you moan, arching your back as he grabs your tits hard, making you flinch amongst the pleasure.

rafe pulls away from the kiss, briefly bending to suck on your nipples into his mouth, just to add to the taste of you on his tongue. rafe picks up your hand, laying it over his cock, telling you without words what he wants you to do.

you press your hand down, letting him grind down between your palm and your stomach as his hand draws back and lays a slap across your tit, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to make you gasp.

you move your free hand to the head of his cock, massaging it with your fingertips as rafe delivers another slap across your skin, before bringing his palm down to your other breast to even out the pain and pleasure.

rafe moans lowly when you swipe the pad of your finger over the slit at the tip of his cock, his hips starting to push faster, which just floods you with wetness, imagining him thrusting inside of you instead of against your stomach.

“please fuck me.” you whine. “make me yours rafe.”

rafe pulls away instantly, moving to kneel between your legs, grabbing your knees and pushing them up, bending you in half. “you’re mine.” rafe says, pushing his cock against your entrance, not even giving you a second to breathe before hes thrusting inside, filling you to the brim. “you’re mine.” he gasps again, beginning to thrust, your sloppy cunt producing wet noises. “no one is going to take you away from me.” you pout, knowing rafe is taking his aggression out right now, but he’s also working through his worry and anxiety about you being kidnapped again.

“i’m right here.” you tell rafe, placing your hands over his, helping him hold your legs up as his cock pushes in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace. “i’m right here.”

rafe lets out a half sob, half moan, wrapping his arms around your legs, needing to feel more of you against his body, even if it just is the back of your thighs and calves as he hugs your legs to him, continuing to push his dick into you, now touching at a new angle that has you crying out.

“rub your clit for me.” rafe grunts, throwing his head back, eyes making contact with the ceiling as he pants, trying to hold back from cumming until you’re ready as well. “need you to cum for me.” “yes, gonna cum for you rafey.” you push your hand between your tightly held together thighs, rubbing at your clit while his cock brutalizes your pussy.

your breath catches in your throat when your legs move slightly to the side, allowing to to see rafes face, chin still tilted slightly upward, his mouth ajar and his eyes glazed over with lust, looking like an angel despite all the devilish acts that he’s done, but everything he’s done today has been for you, and you certainly won’t forget the blood on his hands only there to protect you.

“i love you.” you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks, your fingers moving faster on your clit, needing to cum for rafe and rafe alone, not caring about the pleasure you’re going to receive yourself, just getting yourself off so rafe can feel your cunt squeeze around him, so he can release inside of you.

“i love you more baby.” rafes voice is hoarse as his hips snap into you, a loud slap every time his hips touch your skin.

you let out a scream when your orgasm hits you suddenly, entire body tightening as rafe releases inside of you, your cunt pulsating as you slow your rub on your clit, milking everything out of rafe that he has to offer.

“fuck.” rafe sighs out, a coy look on his face as he lowers your legs down, rubbing over your thighs to make up for the position he put you in as he slowly slides his cock out of you.

rafe moves carefully to lay down next to you, not just wanting to flop down, considerate of his movements when you’re around anyways, but especially since you just went through something traumatic.

“come here.” rafe reaches out for you, and you slide into his embrace, your head coming to rest on his chest.

“you know you’re going to have to stay here in the house for a few days while i get this mess sorted out?” rafe asks, but it’s more of a statement.

“i know.” you say. it’s not like you’re happy about being locked up, but it’s for your safety. “i’m sorry.” rafe sighs. “when all of this is over, i’ll take you on a nice long vacation-”

“i’m not mad.” you say, picking your head up to look at rafe. “i knew exactly what i was getting into with you, with your business. i understand. you don’t have to apologize for keeping me safe.”

rafe smiles at you, his thumb rubbing over your cheek, wondering how he managed to get such a perfect girl before bringing you in for a kiss.

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blossom-works · 7 months

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Dad Duties

» Kylian is thankful for his niece and nephew because they prepared him for fatherhood. He knows how to change diapers and how to be patient. Kylian likes to think that he has always been good with kids, but taking care of his own child is something new and grand.

» His time as an uncle did not prepare him for the other things though. Did you know that a baby's first poop when they come out of the womb is called meconium? Cause Kylian certainly didn't know. He freaked out when he saw the tar-like substance in the tiny diaper. You were a bit freaked out too so you asked your nurse.

» The footballer did learn how to change a diaper fast and efficiently. Seriously, his son is like a squirt gun. You have no idea when he chooses to fire it.

» As a joke, you put Matthew in a ninja turtle beanie and turtle shell blanket. Kylian found it so cute that he took a picture and set it as his new wallpaper.

» The first few nights were horrible though. Kylian thought that all Matthew needed was a new diaper and some milk to go back to bed. Oh, how wrong he was. Babies apparently like to stay up for a while before going back to sleep.

» Since you chose to breastfeed Matthew, Kylian feels bad that he can't really do anything during the night. When you're up feeding your son, you might as well change his diaper too. Kylian does tell you to wake him up to put Matthew to sleep, but sometimes you don't listen.

» Baby's first bath went horribly wrong. In Kylian's mind, he thought that he could bathe Matthew as he did with his niece and nephew when they were little. Kylian did not realize that Matthew's first couple of baths needed to be sponge baths because of the umbilical cord. The leftover part needs to dry so it can basically pop off. When you told Kylian this, he kind of just froze in a "Oh shit" type of way.

» Kylian also had no idea how to do a sponge bath for a baby. Help.

» You and Kylian tried breastmilk for the first time too. Don't ask how that happened.

» It takes you and Kylian about two weeks to find some kind of a routine for Matthew. After that, parenting got easier.

» Matthew grew a lot after his first month of being home. He got longer and weighed a little more. It astonishes Kylian at how fast his son is growing. He wishes he could go back to when he first came home with his baby.

» Kylian's family came climbing into your home when Matthew was three weeks old. They were practically fighting to see who gets to hold him first.

» Wilfriend ends up winning and he doesn't let go of his grandson. Fayza has to scold her ex-husband to let everyone else get a turn...Then she hogged Matthew.

» Malisa gave you a lot of pointers as a new mom. Your sisters are back in America so it's good to have someone with you to guide you. Even if they live in the country next to you.

» One time when Matthew was five months old, Kylian asked you to bring him over to the club to meet his teammates. None of them have seen Matthew in person, so imagine a bunch of dudes leering over a baby. Kylian stood on the sidelines with his chest puffed with pride.

» One of Kylian's teammates held Matthew up and aided the kid in making a goal. It was all fun and games until Kylian got upset that he didn't assist with his son's first goal. He got over it eventually when you told Kylian that he could teach Matthew how to score goals better than anyone cause his dad is Kylian Mbappe.

» When you were pregnant with Matthew, you and Kylian agreed to raise your family as humbly as possible. Similar to Gordon Ramsey, when they get to a certain age, your kids will have to either pay for themselves if they want to travel or just not travel at all. They will also be prohibited from using Kylian's private jet when they reach a certain age too.

» Allowances are allowed but to an extent. You really have to be the enforcer on this. Allowance is earned when the kids do their house chores. No chores done, no money given. You forbid Kylian from giving his kids more money than they should be given. Really, you have to be strict on this with your kids and your husband.

» Oh, and as soon as the kids are legally allowed to work, no more allowances. No argument. If they really want something they better work for it. You and Kylian had a similar upbringing so you know the value of money and how to use it responsibly. You want to teach those same values to your children.

» You have to limit Kylian's options for presents though. Sure it's their birthdays and it's Christmas, but don't give the kids a freaking life-size playhouse. Presents are always reasonable and a few of those presents are name brands. If Kylian wants to give the kids something name-branded, it has to pass through you.

» To say Kylian is excited to teach his son how to play football is an understatement. When Matthew was only a couple of months old, Kylian bought a kid's football net and ball. He really wants his son(s) to love the sport and have at least one play professionally. If they don't then so be it. Kylian at least wants to plant the seed.

» At some point, Matthew becomes fascinated with ears. He is either touching his or someone else's ears. He will pull and rub his hands all over the body part.

» His first Father's Day was an emotional one for Kylian. In Spain, Father's Day is always celebrated on March 19th. Matthew is only seven months old so you came up with a cute craft. Using paint you made a shoeprint on one of Kylian's shoes and another on top of it with Matthew's footprint. Next to is a sentence that says, "Following in your footsteps".

» You did all of that while Matthew was napping so he wouldn't be fussy and mess everything up. Smart mom brain.

» Kylian refuses to let the media see Matthew until he is at least one. The first time the world got to see Matthew's face was when Kylian brought him to do the traditional player escort. Matthew stayed with you in the stands after that.

» Matthew was certainly scared when he entered the pitch with his dad. The loud cheering and flashing lights were overwhelming to the boy. He cried on Kylian's shoulder. Kylian was able to calm his son down a little by distracting Matthew with his hands.

» Kylian loves being a father. He has always wanted to be a father and now he is one. It has been a great joy to witness his son grow from inside of you to outside of you. There are certainly things Kylian can do better about his parenting skills. Maybe he can convince you to have another one so Kylian can perfect his parenting skills?

#fanfiction #x reader #football #kylian x reader #mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #football imagine #reader insert #dad!kylian mbappe

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spacy-snail · 5 months

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Parts of the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie that did the book dirty

Spoilers!!

…

• Snow is the one to suggest feeding the tributes, not stumbling across Sejanus already doing it

• The downgrade of the whole rat problem/rat poison thing

• Grandma’am is nice now???

• The almost total removal of Clemensia’s character, her being a weird suck up instead of her making a normal teen lie, and the fallout showing the absolute apathy Dr Gaul has (and also making Snow realize he can’t even trust the Capitol)

• Dr Gaul literally spelling out what the snakes do and Clemensia still sticking her hand in that stupid snake tank

• Not having Snow calling Lucy Gray “mine” in a creepy way even once to show how he feels he has ownership of her from the very beginning

• The EXTREME downgrade of Snow and Sejanus’ relationship, and the weird bond he has with the Plinths in general

• Ma Plinth erasure

• Tigris erasure

• Getting rid of Arachne’s funeral

• Snow not going out of his way to get Lucy Gray a guitar

• Having a blink and you’ll miss it throwaway line of the tributes and Academy students that died in the explosion

• Not showing the other tributes that did the interview

• Not showing Mama Snow’s compact until Coriolanus deciding to give it to Lucy Gray

• Lucy Gray and Snow didn’t kiss before she went into the games??? I feel like that added and extra layer of her wanting to survive but idk

• The erasure of the iconic “it’s not over until the mockingjay sings” line

• The drones never being fixed was a super weird choice and I’m not sure if I liked it or not

• Snow being super suspicious and running out to put something with Lucy Gray’s scent in the snake tank instead of just getting lucky and putting it in there on the off chance instead of it being predetermined

• The Games ending with the snake scene instead of Lucy Gray having to be clever to outwit her opponents, like I get it’s dramatic but that scene with Dr Gaul was just so weird to me

• Highbottom TELLING Snow to sign up for the Peacekeepers instead of just implying it and also telling him to keep his identity anonymous instead of Snow doing it out of pride

• Sejanus not telling Snow about the diploma he literally bargained for for him

• Sejanus showing up on the train instead of after Snow gets to District 12 and has to wallow in what his life is now before having finally having someone that actually knows him

• Snow not having IMMEDIATE beef with the mockingjays

• Snow not calling Sejanus his brother until the moment he betrayed him

• Them playing the Jabberjay audio at the hanging instead of Snow having to sit with his guilt and finding out via the commander was so so SO cringy omg

• Snow finding out he was going to District 2 BEFORE finding out about the hunt for the guns and who killed the mayor’s daughter was so so weird like why did they choose to do it in that order I feel like it took away all suspense of wondering when the other shoe was going to drop

• Lucy Gray looking that man in the eye and calling herself a loose end while he has a gun in his hand and not getting shot then and there was the most unrealistic part of the movie istg

• Not showing the Plinths in the apartment with them at all and just kinda having a throwaway line about where the money’s coming from

• Dr Gaul never says that she destroyed all evidence of the 10th game because of everything that happened with Snow, Lucy Gray, Sejanus, and the other dead Capitol children

• Snow not throwing away the morphine and Highbottom digging to get it, and instead just leaving it on the desk, idk it takes away the agency of the murder to me, less like an accident and less thought out (and on top of that, not showing how meticulous he was with poisoning the morphine so it couldn’t be traced back to him)

#i liked the movie for the most part #especially the music and pretty much every scene with lucy gray #but these things irked me #i’m sure i’ll have more after i watch it again #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #tbosas spoilers #coriolanus snow #president snow #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #snail scribbles

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muddyorbsblr · 11 months

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the final Lady Sharpe part 3: unorthodox signals

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: The first night of your mission to put Lucille away finishes with an unexpected request from Thomas

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 5.7k [get a snack or a drink ready]

Warnings: ghosts; the McMichaels; the teensiest bit of steam [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; the start of pining

"Do you really think that this will be enough to put her away?"

Your first candle was just about to run out, telling you that over half of your first night in this possibly deadly operation in the hopes of putting Lucille Sharpe away for all the crimes she'd committed since Thomas was barely a young man was already over. Edith had guided you throughout the manner, finding the documents that held the records of marriages, deaths, money transfers and the like not too far from your shared bedroom with the baronet. A cursory glance through all the documents told you that alone they would barely have any leg to stand on and your hopes of putting her away would be significantly lowered.

You needed every morsel of evidence you could find.

Edith kept you company through the night, an invisible apparition of a lookout, talking with you while waiting for ink to dry so you could start copying the next line of the document. Mostly you two talked about her life before it came to a screeching halt courtesy of the business end of Lucille Sharpe's cleaver; how she wanted to be a writer and had made significant progress on her first novel that the murderous Lady Sharpe had burned to ash before ending her life.

If you survived this endeavor, you offered to pen down the novel once more at Edith's dictation to have her story published. So that her name may live on and her soul would live on in peace knowing that one of her dreams had been accomplished in a way.

"All of these together could build a strong enough case," you answered the spirit. "The only thing is it could build a case either against Lucille…or Thomas; there's nothing here so far that could undeniably present that it's her pulling these strings. What do the recording cylinders hold?"

"Enola's testimony that Lucille knows how to prepare the poison, the location of her cleaver, and that the money that has been inherited and co-mingled with the Sharpe estate has been used to complete the machine."

"Circumstantial," you mumbled, finishing up the fourth page for the night, leaving you a remainder of around five dozen sheets of paper along with transcribing the cylinders. "Anything else?"

"How about a spoken confession from Lucille?" That had your ears perk up, putting the pen down and allowing for the ink to dry before moving on to the next line. "Before she killed me she told me about how she made Thomas marry for the money. For the mines and for the machine and ultimately so they could find a way to make even more. But how all the horror that they dealt the world was for love."

"Lead with that next time, please," you breathed out, realizing that you now had the smoking gun. "What about a journal? A place where she kept track of all the prospects before ultimately choosing someone for Thomas to marry?"

"From what Enola has told me those get burned once the marriage certificate gets signed." Your ghostly companion sounded disappointed over that bit of information, almost as if she was apologizing to you for not being able to give you that. "Y/N if it's alright to ask…why did you decide to help Thomas? We could have helped you escape without his participation. In fact, everything you're doing now could have been done without his knowledge. Why tell him and risk betrayal? What if he's telling Lucille about your plan as we speak?"

"Good question," you blurted out a little louder than you intended. "Honestly when he explained to me what had been going on, part of me could see that in his own way…he was a victim in Lucille's plotting, too. I saw the remorse in his eyes as he talked about you…all of you. If he was being sincere and he truly wanted to be free from someone who had utilized him for her own selfish, hedonistic gain since he was but a boy, then I would be cruel to know all this and choose to not help him. Now, if he is betraying me and Lucille comes after me with her cleaver…or God help us something else…then that would be on his conscience if I die tonight. Or they do. In truth I wouldn't face any consequence upon their deaths because it would be an act of self defense."

You'd just finished copying the entirety of the fourth page when you were startled with a loud groan resonating from the attic.

"What in God's name was that?"

"It seems…it's Thomas. Maybe he's giving you a signal? How much of the second candle is left?"

You put the remaining candle next to your thumb. "Just a little over half a thumb's worth…" you trailed off. "I didn't tell him to give me a signal…"

A murmured second voice seemed to have joined Edith, which you surmised was most likely Enola. "She's asleep," Edith spoke after a few moments of less than whisper quiet tones. "Perhaps he hedged on the side of caution and made sure you wouldn't be navigating these halls without a light. How thoughtful of him." The slight teasing tone in her words didn't escape you, but you chose not to question it and instead gathered the original documents and placed them in the order which you found them earlier tonight, rushing over to the dresser in the hall near your bedroom and stashing them back in the drawer.

"Edith…do you think we'll actually succeed in this?" Throughout the night, you kept on inwardly voicing your doubts, wondering if perhaps you'd planned too meticulously, or maybe even not enough. That somewhere along the way in the next few weeks, you would have missed something and instead of tasting freedom at the end of this, you would instead be joining your newfound apparitional friend haunting the corridors of Allerdale Hall.

"You will," she answered you as you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, finding a journal for sketches that you could sneak the copies you'd finished into. "It's too late for me to succeed in something like this, so really all I can do is help you -- and Thomas -- so that you can live your life free from Lucille."

"Our lives," you corrected. "If we make it out of this with our lives intact, he deserves to be with someone he actually loves."

The sound of water filling the bathtub greeted Thomas once he stepped into your shared bedroom, his brows knitting together in confusion once he stepped into the bathroom and spotted you standing beside the faucet in your sleeping gown. He couldn't help but to stare at how the moonlight shone through the window and hit your features in a way that he could only describe as celestial.

As if you were an angel sent his way, about to hold his hand and guide him out of the dark path he walked for most of his life.

"I drew you a bath," you said softly, shutting off the tap and already shuffling your way toward the door when he began to close the distance between you two. "Figured you'd want to clean up after…" You motioned your hand toward the ceiling, vaguely toward the attic where Lucille currently laid asleep. "…all that."

He held you lightly by your elbow to stop you from passing him. "You didn't need to do that."

"I know…" You gave him a tight-lipped smile, so far off from the one that he'd gotten to know before you were married. So distant that you may as well have been standing on the other end of the room instead of mere inches away. Almost as if you'd viewed him as no more than a stranger.

The thought alone made his heart grow heavy, a desperation clawing at him to know what he must do just to see that smile of yours again. The type that could light up a room and draw everyone's attention to you. The kind that dimpled your cheek and reached your eyes and all he could do in response was give you a smile of his own. Or kiss you.

"But personally whenever I had to do something that didn't sit right in my soul, I found it best to wash it off of my body at least before going to bed," you offered, placing your hand over his and easing yourself out of his hold. "Goodnight, Thomas."

Just before you completely slipped from his reach, he wrapped his hand around yours in a delicate hold. "W-Wait…Y/N, please," he stammered, tracing his thumb along the length of your fingers just as he once did even yesterday in the carriage ride as you two made your way to the decaying house.

We should have stayed in the city. The words begged to be uttered, weighing uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue. We could have been happy together.

"What is it?"

"I…I don't wish for the last thing I do before I sleep to be a—a distraction," he mumbled, heart hammering away at his throat, fearing what you would answer to what he wanted to ask of you. "I-If it would be alright with you, the last thing I wish to do before I go to bed tonight would be…a kiss."

Your expression went unchanged, remaining as distant and…almost defensive, as your eyes roamed his features. The silence from you was near deafening to him, the only sound that he could register being the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

"You don't need to say yes--"

"Wash your mouth first," you said in a rush, a tiny tentative smile twitching at the corner of your mouth. "Because I refuse to kiss the same lips she kissed."

Thomas stayed where he stood for a good few moments after you slipped out of his hold, stunned that you'd given only that simple stipulation and that ultimately, you agreed.

The shameful memories of Lucille's touch would not be the haunting lingering thought that plagued him before sleep would overtake him tonight. For even just a fleeting moment, he could convince himself that tonight he would go to bed having only kissed his wife goodnight. He could allow himself to picture what life with you would be like if you both succeeded in this plan of yours.

How you two would live out your newfound freedom together.

The mere thought brought tears to his eyes, envisioning what it would be like to wake in the morning contentedly holding you in his arms, your only concerns in the world paling in comparison to what he worried of now.

Warmth couldn't find you as you sat on the bed waiting for the sound of the water draining from the tub, no matter that you were on the side of the bed that was closer to the fireplace, or that the windows were closed and the wintery wind could not enter the room. The cold was coming from inside you, all stemming from the question of why did you agree to Thomas' wish so quickly.

Were you honestly so desperate to have a semblance of the marriage that you'd thought you signed your life off to that you were willing to instigate a sense of intimacy with a man you found yourself questioning if he was worthy of your trust? Could you even bring yourself to sleep in the same bed as him after all that had been revealed today?

How come the answer to both those questions was not a clear and resounding 'no'?

"I've never felt so stupid," you whispered into the quiet, wondering if Edith was present in the room with you now, the faint pang of disappointment prodding at your mind tauntingly when you heard nothing in return. "Too handsome for me to even have thought of knowing better."

The sound of water rushing into the drain jolted you out of your thoughts, having to make a conscious effort to take steadying breaths when Thomas stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a thin bathing towel quickly becoming translucent from the water covering his lithe form. Suddenly you were conspicuously interested in the pattern of the flaming embers of the fireplace, keeping your gaze fixed at the blazing corner of the room until you felt the bed dip beside you.

It confounded you more when he shuffled closer to where you sat on the bed, fingers resting gently atop yours as he tucked his fingers under your chin to turn your gaze to him. "What did you gather from tonight?"

You had to fight against your urge to breathe out audibly in relief, your nerves over his request from earlier easing off somewhat at the much simpler turn the conversation had taken. "There are about sixty-five sheets worth of documents. I was able to fully copy four pages, but I think I can go faster if I can make the ink dry quicker…possibly up to seven or even eight pages a night, which would give me more time to work on transcribing the photograph cylinders."

"Would I be able to help you? About the ink?"

You shook your head slightly, shaking his light grasp on your chin only to have him cup the side of your face, fingers weaving through your hair, thumb stroking along your cheekbone. "I need to find a way to warm the paper and also procure thinner ink, so I'll go into the city tomorrow morning and see what I find."

"I could accompany you, make a day of it." The furrow between his brows visibly relaxed when you nodded, accepting his offer. The air around you felt thinner once more when his gaze flickered to your lips. "You truly are ethereal in this light," he breathed out as he leaned in close enough that you could hear his staggered breaths. "Brilliant," he whispered, barely audible, before he pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

A faint whimper escaping you seemed to spur him on, each kiss becoming less restrained than the last, causing a near violent fluttering in your stomach the moment you felt his tongue tracing along the parting of your lips. There was a split second when he pulled away from you that you instinctively leaned toward him, chasing his kiss, before you caught yourself.

The sight of him giving you a tender smile greeted you when you opened your eyes, him seemingly content to stay right where he was, faces inches apart with his thumb tracing along your bottom lip. "Thank you."

"It's the least I could do," you said on instinct, assuming he meant what you'd done and agreed to tonight once he walked back into the bedroom.

"Y/N…" he breathed your name, his warm exhale grazing your skin from his closeness. "You're putting an end to the horror that has plagued most of my life. That is more than enough. More than I could ask for." He took you by surprise when he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips. "More than I deserve."

You immediately felt the loss of his touch when he scooted away and laid down on his side of the bed, moving you to follow suit as you wrestled with your thoughts and the outright diabolical turn your life had taken since stepping through the doors of his manor. How now you feared even sleeping only to wake with the maniacal Lucille standing over you with cleaver in hand.

Or perhaps you would not wake at all. Perhaps you would open your eyes and suddenly you would know the face of your apparitional friend Edith, because you were now cursed to haunt the halls of this possessed manor right alongside her.

What puzzled you the most was that if that were to happen, you would miss Thomas. And feel a sense of guilt about you that you were unable to deliver on your promise to end his sister's horrendous ways.

"Y/N, would it be too much if I were to ask for one more thing?" Thomas spoke into the quiet of the room. "You can say no I would completely understand."

"What is it?" You tried to keep your tone even, to not give it away that you were restless as well.

"May I hold you?"

The air left your lungs at his request, your thoughts racing with what his reasoning behind wanting to form this sense of intimacy with you when you knew that after all this you two would be little more than strangers. You tried to weave a sense of rationality into your decision. "Would it help you sleep?"

"Perhaps," he breathed out, already moving his arm to make space for you. "Since we met I always felt I could…breathe easier when you were near. I would sleep easier knowing that when I woke the next morning I would see you again. And now that you're here—"

You moved in the bed before he could finish his answer, shuffling into the space right beside him and settling against his side, grateful for the shadows cast upon your face from the fire now facing away from you, hiding the way your eyes widened and your brows knit together when he let out a sigh and visibly relaxed. When your head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

"Goodnight, darling," he whispered into your skin, wrapping his other arm around you as well and pulling you into a full embrace, half of your torso laying atop of his bare chest.

"I'm just saying, Y/N, things around here the last few days have just been a few touches too bleak for my taste without you coming in to request some obscure ingredient or equipment for one of your experiments for Scotland Yard. It's so good to see you again, and married! You've no idea how jarring it was to hear it from Jeffries and Rhodes that you hadn't taken on a case in nearly two months and then so casually mention that they'd last seen you when you dropped by the station to tell them you were taking an indefinite break from cases for your wedding!"

You'd spend the last few minutes catching up with the owner of the assorted goods shop you frequented, Suzanne, a woman that seemed to be able to work miracles and find whatever it was you needed for investigating your cases throughout the years. The moment you walked through the doors of her shop, she dropped everything and pulled you into a tight embrace as if it had been years since you two last saw each other.

Considering the coldness of Lucille back in Allerdale and the bizarre mix of comfort and trepidation you felt this morning waking in Thomas' arms, the familiarity of your years long acquaintance's warmth and hospitality was such a welcome change. So welcome that it threatened to move you to tears with how it nearly overwhelmed you with relief.

"It's so good to see you, too, Suzanne." You picked up the parcel of parchments and a bottle containing a more thinned out ink compared to the one you used last night. "This'll help a great deal. Also…any chance you have a few long candles laying around?"

"Absolutely. How many?"

You did a quick computation in your mind, adding a few for contingency's sake. "Five dozen?"

She didn't even seem surprised by your request. "Is this for another case? None of the detectives I've crossed paths with mentioned you're working on something from their board."

"More a…personal project," you offered, a half truth considering that this would eventually become a case when the station received the copied documents. Or when they investigate your mysterious and untimely demise at the hands of your demented sister in law. "You know me, always have to make sure I have a little more than enough in case mistakes are--"

"Lord have mercy," she gasped out, her attention completely taken by whatever or whoever was at the door. "What a sight."

You suppressed the grin threatening to split your face in two when you caught sight of Thomas walking into the shop and making his way toward you, his overcoat swaying gently with each step. "I've placed the order. Parts should arrive in three weeks," he spoke, all the while keeping a hand behind his back as he approached you. "And as I made my way here I came across this and thought it would be a welcome spot of color in our room."

He brought his hand around to reveal a small bouquet of sunflowers, a bright smile stretching across his face as he saw your own smile playing at your features once you caught sight of the brilliant yellow.

"It complements your eyes," he said softly, holding the flower up next to your face, effortlessly keeping you captive under his steely blue gaze.

The sound of a throat clearing brought you out of your trance, turning to face the shop owner once again. "Suzanne, I'd like you to meet my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe." Her jaw had gone slack staring at the two of you, giving him the slightest nod and a small wave, all the while the awe never left her expression.

"Have you got everything you need, darling?"

You nearly blurted out that all you needed were the candles when another item crossed your mind. "Nearly everything." You turned to address Suzanne once more. "You wouldn't happen to have some magnesium pills on hand, would you?"

"I'll see what I can find." She gave you both a curt nod before walking into her stock room. "Is everything alright? These are usually a last resort when all you do is toss and turn in the night."

"Just…some trouble sleeping," you called out into the direction of the door, holding up a hand in Thomas' direction when he opened his mouth to question the order. "Might just be the adjustment period after moving and all. Unpacking and familiarizing myself to a new environment."

"Oh! You've left the city?"

"Yes. I moved in to Thomas' home just outside the city. You know Allerdale Hall?" The sound of her stumbling on something raised your concern. "Are you alright in there? Do you need some help?"

"Forgive me for sounding like a dolt, but I've heard that that manor is condemned. Haunted, even. Everyone that had ever stepped foot across those doors swears they hear voices coming from the walls."

You shared a look with your husband, raising your eyebrow at him in a playfully taunting expression before answering the shop owner, "It's just the East Wind." He held a hand against his mouth to stifle the chuckles that escaped him. "Write it off as nothing more than an old wives' tale, my friend." You quietly shuffled a bit closer to Thomas before finishing in a more hushed voice, "Because what they're hearing are quite literally old wives…"

That had him shaking from the laughter he was holding back, moving his hand to wrap around you and pull you to his side, pressing a kiss into your hair and causing you to slightly shake as well from his barely restrained chuckling. When Suzanne had stepped out of the stock room with a box in hand along with a small tin of what you assumed were the pills you asked for, this was how she saw you two, a warm smile gracing her lips as she visibly melted at his gesture.

"I've never seen a husband so smitten with his wife," she commented as she placed the items on the counter. "It's so refreshing to see a couple so beautifully in love."

The sound of a sharp chime of the bell distracted you from the slight ache you felt from Suzanne's words, a tinge of guilt mixed with what you could only speculate was longing threatening to consume your thoughts. A group of three walked through, two ladies dressed in bright colors and frills with matching hats as a garish show of their affluence, and a gentleman in a definitively more muted business suit.

Recognition dawned in the eyes of each new visitor as soon as they spotted Thomas, the older woman's lip slightly upturned into an unsubtle sneer, while the younger woman straightened her posture, the swell of her breasts nearly bursting from the tight low neckline of her dress. Meanwhile the gentleman a few steps behind them shifted his attention quickly to the small collection of antique photographs by the front of the store.

"Thomas!" the younger woman sighed in a completely unnatural breathy tone that you recognized as an attempt in being flirtatious. "It's so good to see you again. We haven't seen you back in town since Edith's funeral. Honestly I feared that I--" The older woman lightly swatted her arm, both admonishing her and showing you that this was most likely her mother. "That we would never see you again."

It was almost as if the two women were making a conscious effort to disregard your presence, the daughter's eyes constantly flickering away from you the moment her gaze traveled in your general direction, and the mother staring right through you, as if the wall behind you was more interesting. Perhaps it truly was.

"Eunice was so eager to see you again despite the tragedy." The mother's tone reeked of cold calculation, a near mirror to Lucille's back in the manor. As if she were trying to sway his attention to her daughter.

You vaguely remembered something Edith had mentioned last night about pompous women back in her hometown filled to the brim with backhanded compliments and thinly veiled threats of putting others they deemed 'unworthy' in their 'rightful place in society'. This must be who she was referring to.

"It truly did not occur to me you would find yourselves back in London, Mrs McMichael." There was an obvious restraint in Thomas' tone that reminded you of how he questioned Lucille's suggestion for tea when you arrived in Allerdale yesterday afternoon, as if in his own way, he was trying to tell the woman across from you to take a step back. "What brings you back to London?"

"Oh, well Alan is here for a conference and Eunice was absolutely beside herself to return to the city and…all it had to offer." You unsubtly raised a single eyebrow at the poorly veiled weight behind those words. The younger woman, Eunice, had come to see Thomas. And it seemed that her brother was doing a poor job at feigning indifference judging by the way his head slightly moved along with the motion of rolling his eyes. It was only then that this Mrs McMichael looked directly at you, her gaze so cold it was clearly accustomed to being able to cut right into a lesser woman's insecurities.

You…were no lesser woman.

"But I see that certain sights have already become a touch too crowded," she sighed, her tone so condescendingly derisive. "Who might you be?"

"Mrs McMichael, this is--"

"Y/N Sharpe," you cut your husband off, extending a hand towards the haughty woman. "Scotland Yard." The muted 'oooooh' from Suzanne had you fighting off a smirk. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The older woman took a look at the items before you on the counter. "Seems an odd place for Scotland Yard to send off their secretary on a run for supplies." She then scanned your attire from head to toe, the feel of your husband's hand making its way from your waist to the pocket of your skirt quickly distracting you from the irritation beginning to worm its way into your expression. "Quite odd for them to make you dress in such an erudite manner, too. Don't secretaries back home dress a little more…simply, Eunice?"

You placed your hand over Thomas' inside your skirt's pocket, trying to discreetly pry his fingers away from the handle of your blade while answering the woman no more than a stranger patronizing you over the way you dressed. "Actually I'm an investigator. These aren't supplies for the station, they're for me. For a case." When his hand was no longer closed around your blade, his fingers intertwined with yours, you brought up your joint hands to press a quick kiss to the backs of his fingers, stifling back a chuckle at the seething glare that colored both women's faces. "I have everything I need. Let's go home."

"I wasn't able to ask you while we were in the store," Thomas spoke a few minutes after the two of you had hopped on to the carriage back to Allerdale Hall, the entire time his fingers interlaced with yours, refusing to let you go. As if a part of him was fearful that if he let you slip away for even a few inches, even for the briefest moment, that you might not return.

He wouldn't blame you if that had been the case; being married to him seemed more a dangerous struggle than the blissful, romantic affair that poems and novels were written about. That was the marriage you deserved, and it weighed heavy on his heart to know that he could not give that to you.

Perhaps if you both survived this effort to put an end to Lucille's plotting, and if somehow Fate was kind to him and would not see him suffer too great a consequence for aiding in these schemes, then he could start to craft that picturesque, love-filled marriage that he had longed for his own life. The kind that would have built a home full of warmth, laughter, and comfort even in the icy chills of the country.

With you.

"What is it?" The way your thumb was absentmindedly rubbing circles on the knuckles of his fingers had him itching to pull you closer. To kiss you again like he had last night. And perhaps even test the waters into having it progress into something more.

"The magnesium pills…Why did you get them? Did you truly have trouble sleeping last night? I sincerely apologize if I--"

"No no, Thomas. You did nothing wrong." Your hold on his hand tightened slightly, as if pulling him out of his own head, bringing his focus back into reality. Back to you. "I erm--I actually slept quite peacefully," you mumbled, ducking your head down moments after he swore he saw your cheeks becoming tinged with pink. "They're for you."

Confusion overcame the baronet. Last night had been the most peaceful sleep he had in years, despite his participation in this possibly perilous endeavor you'd both signed yourselves up for. Painted a beautiful picture of what your life together would be once it was truly only just the two of you, and you would both come home after a day's work and settle into a more relaxed, intimate routine as husband and wife. "I don't think I need them, darling."

"I mean, should there ever be a night that you…can't stomach your part in this whole…" you trailed off, your free hand moving about as if you were trying to grasp the right word. "Situation…They're for that." You leaned in closer and spoke in a more hushed tone. "Take a pill, crush it into a powder, and stir it into her tea. They shouldn't give off a telling taste, but you can mask it with sugar if it helps. Put her right to sleep so that you won't have to--"

Your words were cut off in an adorable little squeak from the back of your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart awash with warmth when he felt you relaxing against him and heart a soft sigh right before you began to kiss him back. "You are a godsend," he whispered against you.

"Well, it is a wife's duty after all to lighten her husband's load as best she can," you retorted, chuckling lightly as you pulled away from him. He had to fight the urge to pull you closer once more. "It feels only but right to do what I can while I still hold that title."

Thomas felt his blood go cold, the chill spreading even to the tips of his fingers. "Wait. Y/N, what do you mean while--"

"Would I really be so cruel to help you escape one gilded cage just to put you in another?" Your eyes shone with a sincerity, an earnest to simply help with fulfilling a shared interest. "Thomas, when this is all over and if we both survive, the outcome I'm aiming for is that I get to live my life back here in the city. Keep on doing what I'm good at and solve more cases. As for you? You get to be free. To do with the manor what you wish, meet someone new, court them, and marry them by your terms."

He felt his whole body go numb as he tried to make sense of the words coming out of you, watching the images of the life he planned to build with you start to crumble in his mind. The image of a life as a free man without you to hold and kiss at the end of the day held little to no appeal for him.

I might prefer incarceration, he thought to himself bitterly. "Do you mean than when this is over what comes next would be--"

"Dissolution," you finished his question for him, effectively turning his heart into lead and dropping to the pit of his stomach. "You'll be free from me, too."

He could see from the smile on your face that you probably expected him to be relieved with this news. Ecstatic even. But every ounce of him screamed to tell you there was no need. That he didn't see life with you as a gilded cage. That your words felt as if you'd taken your blade and stuck it right through his heart before twisting it.

We should have stayed in the city.

A/N: I don't think he likes that outcome very much… 🥴🫡

everything taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee

the final Lady Sharpe taglist: @lady-rose-moon @sassanoe @smolvenger @annoyingsweetsstranger @bombcitymiss22 @ladyloki3 @cakesandtom

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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square-coconut · 3 months

Text

Okay, so, I just finished Yakuza 3, and I have many, many mixed thoughts and feelings. I'm sure someone has said this before but I want to talk about the "parallelism" between Mine and Daigo (in Yakuza 0), because I just realized it and I'm okn't. If they did this on purpose, they are sick.

I'm sure we all understand the ending of Yakuza 3 by now. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. Not being able to establish any genuine relationship was creating a void within Mine that was getting bigger and bigger.

In his childhood he was unable to make any friend because for other people he had no value. This must be very hard for a child's development, but during adulthood it didin't get any better. He earned a lot of money so more people started approaching him, obviously in a interested way. That must have really hurt him and so his "beliefs" solidyfied and he didn't even try any more to connect with people. We know that, he literally says so.

So, in the "Family Heir" substory (Yakuza 0), Daigo talks about how he's experiencing something similar. It's more like what Mine experienced when he was an adult; everyone approaches him out of interest, for his money or his status, but the conclusion is the same; two children incapable of forming genuine relationships/friendships with the people around them.

The difference? Kiryu Kazuma threatening to beat him up (will work with me to, not gonna lie). I choose to believe it's on purpose. RGG really like their connected by fate gays, don't they?

The speech he gives to Mine is similar, a little faster but I mean, Mine was pointing a gun at him lol

And he proceeds to beat him up! That's Kiryu's love language I guess

The sad thing is that in the end he got it, the seed to change was there. It really seemed like he wanted to change but the feeling of "not deserving something real" won, especially after betraying one of the few persons he ever loved. I went into this fight hating this man and ended up crying.

Mine was right, I wish he had met them a little earlier in his life (difficult with both Kiryu and Daigo in prison lol).

And to be honest, I think it worked better with Mine than Daigo because if you look at Kiwami 2, it didn't look like he had any friend (does he have any now? Majima and Kiryu don't count, they're his parents)

In conclusion, being gay in Japan (2009) must have been hard enough to justify going to therapy, I can't imagine dealing with this on top of that.

#mine yoshitaka #daigo dojima #minedai #kiryu kazuma #rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #yakuza 3 #like a dragon

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moongothic · 2 months

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To be honest I can kinda see how having a hook instead of a hand prosthetic has its benefits

Hook is easier to mantain than a hand with lots of small moving pats, especially when you don't know shit about it. If something happens to it and it gets broken, it's much easier to replace a hook, even with all layers and poisons

And depending on when in time Crocodile lost his hand he may have just got used to it already

But also yeah, Crocodile is just the type of guy to choose a hook instead of a new hand because looks and aesthetics lol

(sorry for typos btw)

Crocodile's hook is kind of fun because it's a reflection of so many things in the story. Like there's the in-universe lore and character stuff we can look at, but also we can look at it from a meta perspective

Like we know Oda wanted to give certain important characters in the story the Iconic Pirate Traits; the peg leg for Zeff, the hook for Crocodile and an eyepatch he has seemingly been saving up all these years for a special someone (my money's on Mr Burns but that's a different subject). And so Crocodile having the iconic hook is a part of an old pirate-y "vision" Oda wanted to fulfill with One Piece, an OG "goal" from waaay back in the day

But another thing is that Crocodile is very much from The Olden Days of One Piece, more specifically, very much pre-what I'd call the sci-fi era of OP. I'd say One Piece started truly dwelling deeper into that genre and its tropes during Punk Hazard, but Oda didn't even really dip his toes into it until the CP9 Saga (with the introduction of Franky and the namedropping of Doctor Vegapunk). Sure, Oda did already hint at the existence of Vegapunk and his scientific developments back in Alabasta (when Miss Merry Christmas explained that Lassoo was a gun that had eaten a Dog Dog Fruit, this being "the Latest Science from the Grand Line"*), but One Piece was still very much in its more classical fantasy element/genre at this point in the story, so the science fiction that was to come years and decades later was not even present at this point

*(Thinking about it, honestly, how the fuck did Mr 4 get his hands on Lassoo if Lassoo was created by Vegapunk?? Was he a gift from Vegapunk/the WG to Crocodile, maybe????? That Crocodile just secretly gave away to Mr 4????)

In other words, in hindsight it might seem odd Crocodile wouldn't have taken advantage of his position as a Warlord and gotten a prosthetic arm to replace his hook. But Crocodile is a One Piece character from a different era in the story, when advanced prosthetics, cyborgs, robots, clones and so much more were nothing but a twinkle in Oda's eyes. So expecting Crocodile to have lived up to the sci-fi future One Piece wasn't originally going to even get to would be unreasonable.

But the fun thing is that we can actually look at Crocodile and his silly little hook, and spin it in a way that does actually complement his character. We can find in-universe reasons for him to have stuck to a hook over an advanced prosthetic, and they make sense. The most obvious would of course be that Crocodile does not trust anyone. It would be very much unlike him to go to Vegapunk and/or the World Government requesting to be given a prosthetic, because that would mean 1) Leaving himself vulnerable for a period of time so that Vegapunk could actually give him a prosthetic (dangerous) 2) Knowing the WG they would not just give out something like that for free, surely they'd want something from Crocodile in exchange. And, while we know what would become of Kuma eventually (a fate so cruel I'm sure even Crocodile could not have imagined) I'm sure he could have suspected the WG could want to use him for a science experiment or two, something I'm sure Crocodile would never have agreed to. Or maybe the WG/Vegapunk would've wanted Crocodile to pay them an obscene amount of money in exchange for a prosthetic, and/or have him do some other favors. Whatever the case, I'm sure none of these options would have seemed worth it in his mind.

And yeah, what you said.

Maintaining and taking care of a hook would be easier, like if Vegapunk's prosthetics ever broke or malfunctioned for any reason Crocodile would have to make a horrifically long hike all the way from Alabasta to Marijoa, cross the Red Line (to be fair his Shichibukai Status would allow him to go over which would be more convenient than passing through Fishman Island), go to Punk Hazard (or Egghead later on), and then hike aaall the way back to Alabasta again. And Vegapunk's inventions didn't always work as intended, the man had to refine and develop his creations to get them to work the way he wanted them to.

So if the option get a prosthetic was ever brought up to Crocodile by the WG like 10+ years ago, he might've been far more cynical about Vegapunk's ability to actually create a decent prosthetic that worked and wouldn't malfunction/have issues etc. And as you suggested, by that time he probably would have become used to his hook, to the point that he didn't mind keeping it.

And yeah, it would be just a big ol' Luffyism if he preferred the giant, golden, gaudy-ass hook

#Moon posting #Asks #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #To be fair as a sharp pointy thing the hook IS good for intimidating people.#Like the size of it is pretty inconsistent as is the height of Crocodile in the actual art but in theory #Like. The size of just the base of that hook is fucking massive (and indeed the base is great for pludgeoning people too)#It just. Like the hook just works for Crocodile (because it's Crocodile) and I love that. Like the writing is so good there

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celaenaeiln · 7 months

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(Cracks fingers)

Okay now it’s time for a relatively big question. Between these two, who would say defined Dick’s true persona the best?

Marv Wolfman (New Teen Titans) or Chuck Dixon (Robin Year One, Nightwing solo book)?

noooooooo how can you be so cruel as to ask me 😭😭😭😭 I love them both so muchhh

Okay you might hate me for this but I'm the type of person who accepts everything written about a character unless that comic has glaring inconsistencies that completely contradict what other writers have written.

So for me these two are some of the absolute best writers and you're making me choose! 😭

Robin Year One is one of my all time favorite comics but at the same time Marv Wolfman wrote Silver Age: Teen Titans and I loved that comic.

However I'm more interested in Chuck Dixon's work because he retained Dick's psychotic quality that he was known for from his robin days. He writes Dick as a happy, intelligent child with extraordinary abilities and accomplishing daring feats. He writes Dick with all the daring and brilliance that the world's greatest acrobat and genius prodigy of Batman should have.

Dixon's portrayal of Bruce and robin Dick is heartwarming is the most accurate representation of their relationship.

Furthermore he gives Alfred's perspective on how Dick made Bruce's life so much better. Some which I talked about in my previous post.

The little things he does like juggling with batarangs

Being popular in school

Being an ace basketball player

Being so overly competent that he can kock out people and guns three at a time with pool balls-

All of this is the essence of Dick Grayson. While Marv Wolfman does a good job, he doesn't quite emulate who Dick Grayson is a person, more specifically robin.

I like Chuck Dixon's Nightwing better.

Chuck Dixon's Nightwing run IS the BEST Nightwing run ever written. For one, he makes Dick come alive as a person.

"I've only been here two minutes. And already I want to shower with clorox and sandpaper."

He's the one responsible for bringing back Dick's jokes and laughter in Nightwing that Dick's robin is iconic for.

He's made Dick the caring, lovable person that Dick was as robin but with the maturity of an adult.

He saves a woman, protects her from being raped, gives her his money and ticket, and sends her on her way to a safer place with no questions asked, just kindness in his soul.

He writes Dick to be the brilliant detective and extraordinary fighter he is.

Best of all, his craziness!!

DICK!! CRAZY ALERT?!

Chuck Dixon's Dick Grayson is funny, brilliant, wild, and loving. That's why I like him so much and this is who I believe Dick Grayson is.

But Marv Wolfman did a fantastic job writing Dick's maturity and his relationships with other people. He focuses on Dick's detective side and how Dick interacts and engages with other titans.

While not as funny, his Dick is also extremely intelligent and loving. He created Dick to love with his full heart and upright morals.

He invests in people, he's loyal, loving, and faithful. It's just another part of him.

So I can't say one person wrote him better than the other. Wolfman and Dixon combined create the whole picture of Dick Grayson. But I can say I prefer Dixon as a personal choice because I just happen to like those particular traits of Dick's he emphasized more even though all of them are equally important and make Dick who he is.

#dick grayson #nightwing #robin dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #teen titans #thanks for the ask!

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lheautontimoroumenos · 10 months

Text

gonna try to keep this quick (sorry i did my best but it's still pretty long), but i feel like people are not aware enough, even in France.

so last week, a 17y old boy was killed in Nanterre (what we call the "banlieue", so in periphery of Paris) by a cop. they made him stop on the side of the road and threatened him violently asking him to open the door. on the video, we can see the cop duo at the driver side window. one of them has his gun drawn to the boy's head. the other one says "shoote le" (shoot him) and the cop with his gun drawn says "jvais te mettre une balle dans la tête" (im gonna put a bullet in your head). the boy whose name is Nahel is logically scared so he speeds away. the cop shoots him in the car, bullet in the thorax and the car hits a wall. Nahel is dead and the video is quickly relayed on twitter to mass outrage.

most left leaning people condemn this and ask for justice, but the media keeps asking them to ask for calm and order (which some do, looking at Roussel) but some don't, which alienates them in the political landscape (the favorite word of the right rn is islamogauchiste aka islamiclefty).

but the right, god the right. first they said Nahel deserved it because he was driving without a license. then it was saying he was a criminal that had already been convicted (the cops leaked a fake criminal record). so not a criminal, but he was an Arab so he would've become one, right? and he should've just obeyed the cops and he would have been ok, that's the behavior of a criminal. I think you get the gist, fascist and fascist adjacent justifications for a cop murdering a boy.

since then, there have been riots in Nanterre and all around France, and the State, Macron (President) and Darmanin (Interior Minister) have sent cops galore. Now, the last time something like this happened was in 2005, when we had less social media and the only pictures and videos we had were from the media (opposed to the riots). Today with Snapchat and Twitter, we can see the pov of the rioters and people are realizing that amidst the anger people feel, they find joy in community, and the vibes in the riots are good and joyful at times (a guy asking another guy to go take a yop for him in the market they're breaking and stealing from comes to mind). They can't say just as easily that they're angry and irrational animal because they see the humanity in the riots (they shouldn't need it but well).

now there is a debate amongst both the rioters and the left who stays mostly outside of it. Are they being useful? breaking and burning the right things? should they go to Paris and take the risk of fighting against cops in streets that they don't know as well as their own? factually, they are mostly burning cars, trash and big companies' shops. But people are choosing to only see the rare schools and libraries being burned downed (who were, for a lot of them already falling down because the State doesn't give money to the periphery). Now, it seems logical to say that burning down your middle school is not going to help against police violence. But it feels like the same people who praise the revolution any chance they get refuse to understand that it comes at a price, with violence and at least a bit of destruction. And the right is using this to discredit the whole movement.

back to fascists. First, the cop "unions" Alliance and UNSA Police published a press release calling the rioters (so mostly Arab and Black people, but also poor white people living in the periphery) "nuisibles" (pest, the word used for animals harming the ecosystem). They wrote that the cops will resist, that they are at war, that they will bring order back. In short they want to kill POC. And they have help. Fascists groups have taken advantage of the situation to walk around blocks during the day and beating up people with bats and at night to illegally arrest rioters before tying them down with zip ties and giving them over to cops. and these people arrested who are sometimes barely older than 18 end up with 18 months of jail for burning trashcans and 10 months for stealing a can of Monster (and those are not suspended sentences).

and while these people end up in jail (thus making it more likely that they will end up with shitty jobs and shitty pensions), Jean Messiha (far-right guy) created a gofundme for the cop and his family that has already gathered more than 1.5 million euros. A cop kills a child and wins the million.

so is it violent? yes of course it couldn't be otherwise. but violence is sometimes necessary, especially when you have to fight back against cops, their fascist friends and the State that allows them to keep existing. The rioters deserve full support, even if the criticism of some of their actions should exist. The danger is for this criticism to overcome our support. It shouldn't. Because if they are alone like they were in 2005, the right and the far-right will take advantage of the situation. Last time Sarkozy was elected and the risk is greater this time, with Les Républicains (the republicans) being basically dead and leaving their spot to Marine Le Pen's fascist party Rassemblement National (national gathering).

so if you're french, don't let the people around you talk shit about the situation. and if you're not, be careful still, fascism is rising and they're not as scared as they were 20 years ago.

#upthebaguette #justice pour nahel #i know i forgot some stuff so if anyone want to add anything pls do

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yanderes-galore · 11 months

Note

Yandere (TFA) Swindle with a human mechanic darling that tries to fix him up after a run in with the autobots? Darling has no idea he's a robot and just thinks hes a neat, beat up, car

Sure! Using his alt-mode without the huge gun because... well... that gives it away, doesn't it? As always I hope I get the character right ^^

Note: I struggled with the ending yet I think it turned out okay despite that :)

Yandere! TFA! Swindle Concept

Yandere! TFA! Swindle with Human! Mechanic! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Transformer/Human, Forced partnership, Kidnapping, Stalking, Manipulation/Threats, Violence, Attempted murder/implied murder.

As a mechanic the opportunity to see different models of cars always excites you.

It's not everyday you see an armored vehicle to fix up.

Let alone one in such strange colors.

Do these types of cars typically have purple windows?

You assume it must be a custom.

Even then, the vehicle looks so beat when you come across it.

What's even weirder was it was just left for you to find at your mechanic shop (or house if you decide to work from home).

There was no owner in sight.

Just a broken down car, sitting in front of you, as though it was waiting.

You had no idea about the concept of Cybertronians.

To you this was just a rare armored vehicle custom model.

One that you were excited to attempt to fix.

You have no idea that this car is a Cybertronian Decepticon named Swindle.

Swindle thought there might be a chance to use a human like you to fix his scuffed armor plating.

Those Autobots really dinged him up.

When Swindle saw you in his vehicle mode he thought you were such a small thing.

All humans were small and weak yet part of him found it cute.

He tucks away this thought as his only concern was using you to help himself.

He didn't think a human like you would know what to do at first.

He can tell you've worked with vehicles yet he hoped you didn't notice much of his Cybertronian biology-

Swindle also wasn't sure if he should feel disgusted or think it's funny at your excitement with fixing him.

He isn't entirely put off by humans touching him.

The thought of disgust actually starts to fade when he notices how soft you are with fixing his parts.

It actually feels... pleasant when you study his parts and try to find new ones to fix them.

You get rid of the dents, swatch some paint colors, and crawl over him to look for any other damage.

It... tickles, honestly!

It only takes you a few days to fix him up.

Although you nearly get suspicious a few times at the strange tech he's armed with.

This vehicle doesn't feel normal....

You expect it to disappear after you've fixed it, just like how it's mysteriously appeared before you.

As you expect, the car's gone the next day.

Meanwhile Swindle marks the location of your business/home for later events.

If he's injured again then he'll come to you.

As long as it isn't anything too serious as of now.

This meet up kick starts a strange series of growing thoughts in Swindle.

Out of every human he's met you're probably one of the most useful.

He actually feels pretty good after your work.

The new paint job feels nice, too.

He actually wants to go back.

In fact, he does!

He goes back many times, much to your confusion.

It's not even just to get fixed up, either.

He just... pops by, sometimes.

Maybe he circles around the block at times...

Maybe he sends you letters he gets other humans to write by making a deal (he would do it himself if he could).

He shows gratitude for what you do for him.

He actually enjoys you checking up on him.

You, on the other hand, are beyond confused and a bit frightened.

The more you work on him, the more you notice things you shouldn't.

Why is this vehicle so armed with weapons?

Is it military?

Who does this belong to?

Why did they choose YOU to fix it up?

You may be thinking, are you doing this all for free?

At first you were just out of interest... but now money just shows up at your damn door.

Swindle respects you and gives you currency to pay for his repairs.

He is one for deals, after all.

There will come a point you get suspicious of the car to the point you try to call the cops about a suspicious vehicle.

Swindle realizes he needs to rush his obsession over you at this point.

For the past few, what is it on Earth, months...?

For the past few months he's been watching what you do.

At first he planned on taking you with him because you're so useful.

Now he wonders if his intrigue is more about keeping you as a human pet than your useful traits.

Which is why when he has human cop cars following him everywhere he realizes he should probably hurry.

As much as he hates the idea of it.

The cops can't stop Swindle.

He'd most likely blow them up with one of his many weapons.

Again, humans are weak to him, it's funny how they TRY to be a threat.

His next stop is picking you up.

Which occurs when he drives into your shop, making a disgruntled you come out to take a look.

Just who is this guy!?

Then he snatches you up like a toy, shoving you into his vehicle mode and speeding off.

His seat belts ensnare you into his seats as you cry and scream.

Finally, it is done.

"I know it's jarring, trust me I was going to properly introduce myself later but you forced my hand." He'd say to you, tracking a location to bring you.

"The name's Swindle, the armored vehicle you've been working on? Got to tell you... you do some nice work. I feel great whenever you finish. So great I thought I'd take you with me!"

"What the hell!? What are you? Where are you taking me!?"

"So many questions, let's take this slow. I'm a Decepticon, an alien to you. As for where I'm taking you..."

The belts squeeze you tighter when you try to reach around the vehicle for a chance to escape.

"I'm taking you to my ship. Out of all the fleshy humans here, you're the most useful in my eyes. An arms dealer such as me gets into trouble at times. Plus... you could say you've grown on me."

"Let me out!"

"Or what? You'll call more of those cops? They didn't help you before."

"I have a family, please..."

"Let's make a deal..." The Decepticon says bitterly. "You come with me willingly and I promise to leave your family be! It should only be just us anyway. Haven't you spent more time working on me than with your family anyways? I thought I made you excited, dear!"

You stay silent at that, tears pricking your eyes as your breathing grows uneven.

"Don't cry, baby... I promise you'll get much richer with me. I'll even provide you great company...!"

Swindle can try to comfort you all he wants but it most likely won't work.

Even when he takes you onto a ship he managed to barter for and shows you his robot form, you still close yourself off.

Swindle is willing to wait for you to open up.

Sometimes you have to be patient when making a deal, right?

Swindle thinks with time you'll be happy with him.

Why stick to such a boring human life when you can stay beside him...

Business awaits, dear... quite possibly in more ways than one.

#yandere transformers #yandere transformers animated #yandere tfa swindle

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dalekofchaos · 6 months

Text

If Arthur Morgan never got Tuberculosis

Hypothetically speaking. Arthur doesn't get TB. This is how I see the story going.

Short version.

After the countless unhinged murders throughout chapters 4-6, Arthur sees that Dutch has lost his mind and that everything that he believed in was a lie and that Dutch is not the man who he thought he was and Micah is just poisoning his mind. High Honor. Arthur leaves a brutally beaten Micah to the point of death and as he leaves Micah makes one last attempt to kill him, Arthur gets out of the way and Micah falls to his death. Arthur leaves to find Mary. Arthur and Mary build a farm for themselves and a family and get the life Arthur always wanted with Mary.

Low Honor. Arthur brutally murders Micah and just leaves Dutch looking at him with nothing but shame "We gave you all we had and you let him damn us all. Arthur takes the money, splits it with John and goes their separate ways. John lives in Beecher's hope and Arthur becomes a bounty hunter. Eventually Arthur is found by Ross and is given the offer he gave John in canon. Kill Bill, Javier and Dutch. And after he kills Dutch, Ross forces him to tell him where Marston is. Arthur would rather die than give John and his family up, so Ross kills him.

Long version.

Thomas Downs refuses to take Strauss's loan so Arthur doesn't risk getting TB in the first place and absolves the loan because he remembers Dutch's old philosophy. "Kill folks who need killing and save folk who need saving." Arthur absolves the debt and the Downes family lives in peace.

Skip to Chapter 6 and Dutch still makes Micah second in command due to Micah never doubting Dutch and seemingly always allying himself with Dutch. This said, Dutch listens to Arthur more often than in canon RDR2. Dutch leaves Arthur to die at the oil fields and Arthur more furious than in canon RDR2. Otherwise, Arthur and Eagle Flies manage to escape alive after Eagle Flies kills Colonel Favours. Arthur shares his experiences with the other gang members which sparks doubts in the ears of Javier and Bill.

The robbery on the patrol train still occurs and Abigail gets kidnapped. Arthur and Sadie go into Van Horn to save Abigail with both of them storming in the town. When Sadie heads in the fence, Milton holds Sadie with a gun to the head and demands Arthur turns himself or Sadie will die. Arthur kills Milton and cuts Abigail free and finds a letter indicating Micah had been sharing information on the gang. Arthur is still furious with Dutch and Micah so he tells Sadie to get Abigail to Jack and Tilly. Arthur heads back and shares the letter to Dutch. This makes Dutch confused but still deciding to side with Micah after John reveals to be alive. The gang is torn apart between Arthur, John and Javier since Javier has witnessed John being left for dead and hearing about Arthur's experience at the oil fields. They are disrupted by the Pinkertons and Arthur, John and Javier run off. Javier suggests they go back to get the money, John has a family so Arthur has to choose to go after the money with Javier or help John escape.

If Arthur decides to go with Javier, Micah will shoot Javier with his last bullet and Arthur and Micah will fight. Arthur would fatally stab Micah and Dutch would walk away like in the canon. Arthur would live as a bounty hunter. Until one day Ross and Fordham come a knocking. Offers him the offer he made John. Kill Bill and Dutch and he can be a free man. Arthur kills Bill at Fort Mercer because he doesn't have Javier to run to. "You were always a weak minded fool." Arthur kills Dutch. He looks at him with disgust. "Hello Arthur, my son." "Oh, I'm your son, am I? That didn't mean a damned thing to you all those years ago when you chose the rat over me." "I....I did no such thing, you and John BETRAYED ME and now you're working for them." "It's either work with them to kill you or I die" and look at you, using another tribe of Indians like you used Eagle Flies. You're pathetic." "If it's all the same to you,I'd rather kill you Dutch." During the shootout on the mountains, Arthur is mocking him for allowing the once great man to be reduced to his shell of his former self. Dutch telling Arthur he should have left him on the streets to die. Arthur mocking his lack of plan and just telling Dutch to "have some goddamn faith" When he has him on the cliff of Coachinay, Arthur just mocks him. "The great Dutch van der Linde, the man with a plan!" For the first time in his life, Dutch shows an ounce of humility and takes responsibility. "Arthur, I let him damn us all. If I had just listened to you, Hosea and John, we would've made it." "If I had just let him hang, we would be in Tahiti" At the end of the mountain, Arthur and Ross are by Dutch's corpse. Arthur demanding to know if he's finally free. Ross tells him one more mission. Kill John Marston and before Ross can say anything more, Arthur grabs Dutch's gun and kills Ross. Fordham sees what transpires and mocks Ross "Oh trust me, it'll look better in the report" Fordham telling Arthur what makes him think they won't kill him. "You know why? I know too much. See, I know why you used me. Your governor Nate Johns election is coming up and he needed you and you needed me to clean up the state. Lets just say I told some folk and if word gets out I'm dead, then mr Johns won't get reelected. You leave me and John Marston alone and no one talks. And just like that, Arthur and John live.

If Arthur chooses to help John, Javier will go after the money and escape while Arthur and John will try to escape. Arthur notices that they are outnumbered so Arthur sacrifices himself to get John to Abigail. Micah runs after Arthur but Arthur tosses him down the edge. Arthur beats the shit out of Micah and kills him. Dutch would return to see Micah's body laying there. Arthur returns to Mary and they live their life in peace.

Arthur would return to Mary with a bunch of money and eight years later, John, Arthur, Charles and Uncle will help build Beecher's Hope. After John and Abigail's wedding, Arthur, John, Sadie and Charles parts ways, and with no Micah leading Ross to Beecher's Hope, neither John nor Arthur are forced to become Ross' puppets and they live their lives in peace.

#Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan #John Marston #Javier Escuella #Micah Bell #Dutch Van Der Linde #Charles Smith #Mary Gillis Linton #Arthur x Mary #Marthur #Sadie Adler

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targaryenismuses · 1 month

Text

Martha Wayne

DCEU, DC AU, DC Comics

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION

We all know the tragic story of the Wayne's. A gun, leaving a little boy named Bruce an orphan

. Well what if instead of his parents being shot that night it was just Martha that survived?

That night in the alley changed her life forever.

The gunman shot down her husband first then ask he aimed for Martha. She jumped forward grabbing the man's hand trying to push it down. But 'BAM' the gun fired off, she heard a cry. Both their eyes widen. The robber ran off with fear in his eyes.

Leaving Martha holding her son on his last breath next to her dead husband. She begged Bruce to stay with her then Thomas. But there was so much blood. All she remembers is tears and blood from that night. Fear living her in guts keeping her still as she sobbed. The next thing she heard were police cars showing up to the scene...

Martha Kane - Wayne grew up as the princess of the city due to her family having money. Her family name help build this city, she was treated like a princess by everyone else but her own family.

There was bad things that happened in her house. All of it was a nightmare for her. The nightmare became worse the night her mother killed her father. then herself. She was eight years old. Just a girl who watched both her parents die. That soon led her to being an orphan, along with her brother.

The two children were sent to live with her mothers sister. Since then she wanted to be the prefect child. Straight As, class president, and a prefect dancer. It seemed she did it all.

Until over the summers when she was on 'vacation', she really was sent to therapy because her brain would be cracked like sheared glass. This was kept hidden due to mental illness not being spoken about at the time.

Martha found a love for dance and writing. She was an excellent ballerina.

Preforming in local shows in Gotham. She lost her self in dance. It almost seemed to heal her. She found herself wanting to be a a journalist more, wanting to share peoples stories.

Bringing attention to things no else did. Give helpless people a voice. So that's what she did but danced in her free time.

Due to choosing that path she met a man named Thomas Wayne. The two worked together a few times and fell for each other fast.

That night in the alley was the night she lost her soulmate and son.

Martha never ever understood why it happened. Thomas had been involved with some organised crime. One night while looking for more wine to drink her pain away, she discovered a wing of the house she had never seen before. Her husband who never told her a thing of what really happened. She found their murders. This whole time Alfred knew. That's why he was looking around after her.

She made him take her how to fight. She was already strong since she danced in her free time.

Martha became a justice.

The city gave her the name

'The bat'!

By day the widow by night the Bat.

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alijwriting · 5 months

Text

Broken Britain

Here comes junky Johnny

He’s come to score

He’s brother said their mums a whore

He drives around a broke old van

He’s mother lives in a caravan

Their kids are wretched

He’s wife is blue

He’s eldest son is on the glue

He lost his job years ago

The drinking problem did ever grow

Two bottles of whiskey to pass the day

He’s poor old wife would always pay

It’s grim round here lass

You should make a move

Folks round here got things to prove

There’s gobby Debbie at 73

And her old man with the dodgy knee

The fight each night like cat and dog

The police come round on the dot

Come on you two call it a day

Some of us have bills to pay

The council house is damp and poor

Not a stitch of carpet on the floor

You wouldn’t choose it ..the life of despair

But it will get you if you don’t care

Learn your sums now

Go to school

So your be no bodies fool

It’s no good though

The genes are bad

You’re do nothing worthwhile with that lad

He’s fit for nothing

His parents poor

If you see him coming best bolt the door

He’ll steel your purse

Right out ya bag

And use your change to buy some fags

His sister sarah

Didn’t take the pill

She had a baby

But the babies illl

Or that’s what the neighbours thought

But the babies mum was up in court

Well try again sarah said

As she wearily laid on the bed

Her tummy rumbled her tears they flowed

How will her baby grow

Tomorrow’s another day

But to leave this place she’ll have to pray

Nothings good here ..days are hard

Maybe she’ll buy a scratch card

dream of money and feeling well

Instead of this god dam hell

Not a winner not this time

Oh well it’s another night of crime

When will it get better on this estate

Some bastards smashed her garden gate

No one gives a shit round here

She wishes she could disappear

She’s had enough now

She’s need a break

Get her out of here for fucks sake!

She never stood a chance

Poor sarah

She was brought up by a carer

Her mum left years before

Sarah heard her shut the door

In the cold and dark she stood

Alone and frightened but understood

Her mum had run to get away

She couldn’t do another day

The depravity it gets in the bones

And eats away in silent moans

If you do not leave this hell

That’ll be your life as well

Come on kids there’s gangs to run

At eleven you can have a gun

It’s easy money selling gear

It’ll make your problems disappear

It’s bad round here

Just like they said

Any aspirations put to bed

Get that bullshit out ya head

And get your arse upstairs to bed

There’s no hope for boys like you

For there’s fuck all to do

Wishing is pointless and dreaming’s mad

You’re always end up like your Dad

Ali J 💙 (copywriter)

#writing #poem #thoughts #poverty #it’s hard #broken #brokejnbritain

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trashiewrites · 1 year

Text

MW Halloween HCs

Happy Spooky day yall! Here are some HC’s i cranked up for the boys plus Farah 👀 spending time with you of the fateful day!

Price:

+No....

+you tried to do something at least decorate the house. He shut you down so fast.

+Plus, He doesn't believe in it and thinks it's a waste of money.

+You told him "THiNk AbOuT THe CHilDrEn JoHN" and I shit you not his response was "Sure I'll give them a good scare" As he pulls out his gun he carries.

+ You then make him aware of the potential lawsuits for you know BRADISHING A GUN TO CHILDREN

+He proceeds to put the gun away "No decorating"

+You ignored him, you bought small decorations anyway with your own money so he couldn't complain. Your favorite is a skeleton bowl that you placed on his nightstand one night after he fell asleep, woke up, and yelped because he woke up with a skeleton in front of him.

+Proceed to laugh in his face. To be honest, he laughs too cause it did get him pretty good.

Soap:

+ Wouldn't be surprised if Soap signed up for a decorating contest cause I feel he would love to decorate these types of things

+He even makes custom stuff

+you help him OFC, mainly by going out and getting supplies when he needs them.

+ He takes such pride and you as an extra touch Help Soap Get costumes that help match the theme of the decorations for the wear so that way when you guys hand out treats together you guys look in character and can trick a few scared in!

+Soap loves interacting with the kids. Honestly seeing the kids walk up amazed at his work on the house is why he does it.

+DadTavish energy vibes are especially high. Like he is so close to having a full-on baby fever episode.

+He gets really sad the day after because he knows he's not gonna be able to keep his props. But you guys sell the props online because they actually have a big market for this kind of stuff. Saves up money for next year's theme!

Ghost:

+He tries so hard...

+He usually doesn't pay any heed to such a holiday but he wanted to try it

+TBH the only reason he never did is that kids are normally scared to talk to him due to his mask. He's always been marked as intimidating.

+he bought simple decorations for the outside of his house and a silly little skeleton bowl for the candy he was gonna give out.

+He asked you to help him set it all up. But it was really just for the nerves

+ Day of Halloween, he didn't really dress up per se. He just kinda wore the uniform.

+Halloween became his favorite holiday that day :)

+ "Wow Mister! I love your Skull Trooper costume!" He doesn't know where exactly it's from but it meant so much to him

+ After that night he was so silently happy. Whenever it happens, he looks over at you every time with a glow in his eyes. It is so fucking cute

+Now he looks forward to Halloween every year!

Gaz:

+COUPLE COSTUMES AND YOU KNOW IT!

+He spent the entirety of the month chatting with you about different duos you both could be. This is the heaviest debate every year cause you two can never agree.

+you want to do a duo from your fav show while he would want to do the cliche couple ones like Peter pan and Wendy; just some Disney.

+You guys compromised this year by doing a duo from your favorite animated movie. (For example, Chihiro and Haku from spirited away, but you choose whatever)

+ Once the whole costume problem ends, you can finally decide what you guys go do for the holiday itself. Which is something you guys luckily can easily get behind each other's ideas. At least, you guys have civil conversations about it.

+ he usually tries to bring up doing a haunted house and then heading to a party. This year Shut him down on at least the haunted house. Why you may ask, well Gaz doesn't do haunted houses very well... Like horribly.

+ It's either he gets too on edge and almost kills an actor, or he panics and passes out. Two years in a row... So you really don't want to deal with another hospital bill. Despite him saying He'll be okay and he won't do it... You highly doubt that... Cause he has always been pretty jumpy.

Roach:

+He wanted to go trick or treating... REALLY BADLY.

+ Yeah you didn't believe him at first when he asked you about you, "Aren't you too old for that Gary?" You wouldn't believe how loudly he gasped.

+ "YOU'RE NEVER TOO OLD FOR FREE CANDY!" Gary shed a single tear as he ran to your shared bedroom. You couldn't hold your sigh as he went off on his dramatic antics again. Every time, this happens every single time...

+ When you finally agree to it, he celebrates and does a little happy dance. God the shit this GROWN MAN does that makes him the world's oldest 5-year-old.

+ That happy dance stops when you ask one question, "So, what are you going to be?" He stops right where he is and stays for a bit before looking back at you... "u h h, shit... I don't know."

+ He dragged you to the Halloween shop with him so he can try out the costumes, which might I add, took about 3 hours of your day.

+ He couldn't pick between being Michael Myers or some other creepy monster you didn't know the name of. Of course, he asked your opinion, aka you choose which one he picks cause he's so damn indecisive.

+ On Halloween, he was practically jumping off the walls in the evening!

+For you, enjoying a nice stroll in the cool breeze but seeing Roach so happy is nice too. Even better when you two stop for a break and he reaches into his candy sack and hands you your favorite candy cutely. "Thank you for coming with me (y/n)."

+ Before anyone asks, yes, yes, he does get really weird looks because he is semi-tall... Like they aren't going to say anything cause he's wearing a mask and even if he wasn't wearing one, he has a baby face so he still would get his candy.

Alex:

+I'm going to be completely honest with Ya... He seems like the guy that likes true crime.

+ SO, instead of typical Halloween stuff like Horror movies and cobwebs. You both are watching true crime documentaries while making little knife cookies!

+Honestly you two get really sad at the end because you can't help but feel horrible for the victims of these killers you had watched. So, after the documentary binge, you both just relax and watch normal things.

+Honestly Alex forgot it was Halloween until someone came to the door for a trick or treat. Sadly, he had to bear the bad news to the kids. He didn't have candy but offered a knife cookie.

+ With the consent of the parents, he put them in a little sandwich baggie and gave it to them.

+You looked back at him with a small glare at him giving the cookies, "what you want me to leave them empty-handed?" You nodded, "Oh come on (y/n), not like you're going to eat them all anyways." You took that as a challenge.

+ you got sick the next day :D Alex was also mad that you legit ate all the fucking cookies. He only got to have like 3 out of the 14 or so.

Farah:

+ So, Farah doesn't really get the purpose of Halloween. But she gets one thing. It is the one day she can scare the living shit out of you all day and you can't be mad at her for it.

+She hinds in the most obscure places and somehow knows where you are going to go at all times.

+ Honestly, it freaks you out how many times she can scare you in one day... Her record is 20.

+ Poor you get so anxious and somewhat competitive cause you want to catch her before she can scare you. Have you done so? no, currently you have zero points on that front...

+ "Boo!" you screamed and fell backward, "Haha! got you again (y/n)!" she lends you a hand as you proceed to tell her that this isn't what Halloween is supposed to be. "Well, it is this for me and I quite like this holiday. Keeps your senses sharp, doesn't it?"

Alejandro:

+ You two don't really celebrate Halloween, the most you two do is buy decorations and make little Halloween snacks. Also, Alejandro has a weird obsession with candy corn...

+ You guys also watch Horror movies but that really is for Halloween, nothing special.

+ You guys celebrate Dias de Los Muertos, which is really big for him! You guys have an ofrenda in your house and his family usually hosts a big party to celebrate the day which you are happily welcomed to!

+ If you have ever been to a Mexican party, you can probably expect what it's like. If you don't know, just know its fucking amazing! fresh food of all kinds, all kinds of booze, and top that with a loud stereo or a live band!

+ Personally believe that Alejandro would bust out a guitar and play a song or two! Aka, I believe he has a killer Spanish singing voice, English... He's okay with it.

Graves:

+Take this as you wish, But I'm telling you right now this man is way too fascinated with slasher films... I MEAN IT, HE LOVES THEM SO MUCH!

+ Legit you guys prob had a bucket that you would handle the trick-or-treaters because he won't leave that screen. HE'S SO FOCUSED!

+ It honestly shocks you how many of these types of movies this man can watch in one sitting cause honestly it prob gets boring after about 3 of them. I'm sure he watched maybe 14 movies throughout the entire day. MIND YOU, THIS ISNT A FLEX!

+ Cheers and makes comments about the character deaths, "That girl totally deserved to die, like who the fuck is that stupid to go that way like honestly dear fucking god..."

+ One character's head got, you know, smashed and I SWEAR, the first thing out his mouth was "Haha! Pop!" LIKE IT WAS NOTHING!!! not even a flinch... I refuse to believe this man isn't a walking red flag

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