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kitten4sannie · 2 months

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ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ

ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ꜰʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

pairing: enemy emperor! yunho x empress! reader x scribe! yeosang

genre: historical au, smut

summary: you have another tension filled meeting with the stubborn man that wants nothing more than to conquer and own you. your new dedicated scribe records everything.

w.c: 4k

warnings: hard dom! yunho, bratty pillow princess! reader, bricked up witness! yeosang, monster cock alerttt, cnc, light mxm, exhibitionism/voyeurism, name calling/pet names, degradation, dirty talk (this man…he’s so nasty in this i’m not even sorry…), lots of manhandling, spanking/flogging, dacryphilia, half dressed kink idk, spit, hair grabbing, threesome elements, some cucky vibes, a little dash of praise, rough wall sex, creampie, yeosang licks everything up… AHEM, oral (receiving), fingering, cum eating, squirting

a/n: i was extremely high when i wrote this and i am down bad astronomically for yuyu and yeosang so yeah something religious happened to me during the writing process !! i mostly blame it on jackson wang bc that song is sooooo…. rfhhehwh it turns me into a rabid animal ngl anywaysss i hope you enjoy lovelies xx

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ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ʙʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

As the empress of your country’s land, it’s always been up to you to partake in the anointed trivialities that required your royal attention. Aside from drawn out, traditional ceremonies to endless horse riding and archery lessons with a seasoned member of the congregation, you spent most of your time having meetings with your supposed suitors, having to listen to their boundless, self-important monologues about their days in battle, coming to know just how much knowledge they held in combat and war strategies, and fighting the urge to pull your hand away when they would hold onto it, pleading you with their eyes for your approval. It all bored you to tears.

Though, there was a particular individual that you couldn’t seem to keep your mind off of, no matter how hard you tried. Jeong Yunho, an emperor from the land that bordered yours. A man from a bloodline that your family had gone to war with many times over the years. Despite that you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, you couldn’t help yourself. You had never met anyone like him before. Instead of asking and pleading for your attention, time, and body, he simply took it. Took what he wanted from you without a care in the world. He wasn’t even bothered by that fact that your dear scribe still sat in the meeting room with you, hazily scribbling down everything that occurred and what was said, spilling bottles of ink onto his scrolls due to how flustered he was from witnessing the way Yunho forcefully conquered his dear empress with a domineering smirk plastered on his sweaty face, the panting emperor’s cock routinely disappearing underneath your disheveled ceremony garments and into your willing cunt.

“Your Highness, Lord Jeong should be here any second now,” your fresh-faced scribe began from across the meeting room, setting up various sized brushes in a line, smoothing out a few creases he found embedded in the elongated sleeves of his ceremony robe. He suddenly looked up at you, concern present within his widened honey brown eyes. “Should I make more tea?”

“That won’t be necessary, Yeosang, but your intention is very sweet, thank you,” you replied softly, making your way across the room in your heavy garbs, taking the time to run your fingers through your newest scribe’s hair, offering him a smile that made him drop one of his brushes. “Lord Jeong doesn’t drink much tea. He…prefers to get straight to business.”

Yeosang’s smile dropped slightly when your hand left his hair, his eyes traveling your form as you sat on your knees in front of the meeting table, watching you take a sip from your steaming celadon cup and nod your head in approval of the flavor. “Have you considered his marriage requests? I’ve read some of the letters he’s sent to you…” The young scribe blushed suddenly, his eyes lowering to look at the blank spaces on his scrolls. “They’re quite intense. Does that sort of thing interest you?”

You rested your chin inside the palm of your hand, your gold bracelets dangling from your wrist, squinting your eyes at Yeosang, your lips curling up ever so slightly. “It does, very much so. Lord Jeong is one of the most interesting men I’ve come across thus far…I’ve greatly considered his offers, despite him being the enemy.”

Yeosang tilted his head, a few locks of his hair falling into his focused eyes. “If I may ask, your Highness…What’s stopping you from accepting?”

You ran your finger around the rim of your celadon cup, looking at your reflection within the black tea, your smile fading. “I don’t want the excitement to end, Yeosang.” You looked back up at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling gently at his confused expression. “Marriage, as beautiful as it is, brings monotony, which brings contempt…”

“Ahh, I see now,” Yeosang nodded slowly, giving you a sad smile back, feeling like he understood his empress a bit more in that moment. He squeezed his fingers around the intricately carved wooden brush inside his grasp. “Your Highness, may I ask you a question?”

Just as you were about to respond, the large, jewel-encrusted doors of your meeting room opened with a groan. A tall, handsome man dressed in an extravagant, hand-sewn traditional robe came strolling in like he owned the place, holding an expensive mahogany box within his large hands.

“Oh, princess, I’ve brought you a present,” Yunho called out teasingly, walking up to the table. He acknowledged Yeosang’s presence with a nod, who bent over to bow. The confident emperor sat down across from you at the table, his eyes hooded, his lips quirked up perversely as if he was reminiscing about your previous meetings. “Hi. Did you miss me?”

You rolled your eyes, pretending as if you didn’t care about the emperor’s arrival, despite your heart and core throbbing rhythmically from him simply sitting there across from you. “What did you bring me, Yunho?”

“Something that’ll have your little scribe here pulling at his robes when I’m done using it on you…Maybe he’ll even spill his ink all over himself like your last one…” Yunho’s eyes shifted from Yeosang, who gulped, to you, who simply sipped on your tea, his long fingers rubbing along the smooth edges of the mahogany box.

You tilted your head to the side, idly biting at the tip of your manicured nail. “Is that so? Well, get on with it. I’m a busy woman, as you know, and I don’t like when my time is being wasted with nonsense.”

Yunho simply scoffed, shaking his head slightly, sitting there silently for a moment, the only sound in the room being Yeosang’s wet brush expertly sliding across the scroll and your nails tapping against your tea cup.

All you registered was the sight of Yunho swiftly getting up onto his feet and heading in your direction, his feet thumping against the mat below. Before you even realized what was happening, you were laying face down on the table, watching your tea pool out onto the sleek wood, your intricately crafted tea cup now split in individual pieces. Yunho had you held down by the neck, his fingers closing around it, his warm body pressing against yours, able to feel his stiff cock against your ass, even through your thick robes.

He chuckled at the gasp you let out, bringing his lips near your ear to purr huskily, “Am I still wasting your time, princess? Or is getting your little cunt all nice and wet for me something worthwhile?” Instead of letting you answer, Yunho simply reached past you, flipping the boxe’s lid open, bringing it closer for you to take a good look at its contents. Inside the box sat a hand-woven flog, the edges of it decorated with a silver finishing, making it glisten in the light. “Do you like your present? I got it made just for you.” He rubbed his cock along your ass, his free hand roaming over your upper thigh to the curve of your ass. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you…”

“Oh, please.” As you tried to get up, Yunho pushed his body weight down onto you, holding your wrists down with ease. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use your little toy on me in front of my innocent scribe, Yunho? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m simply a man who’s head over heels for you, Y/N…Take some responsibility…” Yunho quickly reached past your neck and down to your chest to rip open your garments, tugging on them while you continued to resist until your bare body was revealed underneath the many layers.

Yeosang dipped his brush inside the bottle of ink with a shaky hand, his cheeks flushed, unsure if he should speak up, his eyes fixated on you, never having seen you in such an indecent state before. “Sh-should…I keep going, your Highness?”

When Yunho forcefully bent you over his knee and pulled your disheveled robe up to reveal your ass, his large hands squeezing into it, you nodded your head weakly at Yeosang, feeling a bit dizzy from being treated in such a way with your lovely dedicated scribe watching on. “Please, don’t let us stop you from doing your job, Yeosang…you’re doing so well…”

“Thank you, Your Highness…” Yeosang blushed from the praise, dipping his brush back into the ink, before pressing it to the scroll, thankful that his garments were thick enough to cover his stiffening length.

You weren’t able to reply to Yeosang when Yunho abruptly slammed his open palm against the curve of your ass, a moan leaving your lips instead of words. He smacked the other side of your ass to watch it bounce and groped along it, squeezing your sensitive flesh between his slender fingers. “That’s it…just look at that color…Wish you could see it, princess. Shall I add some pretty shades of purple and pink too? You’re my canvas, Y/N…I’m sure you’ll let me paint you with my cum next, right? Just like every time, yeah?”

“Fuck off, Yunho,” you grumbled, attempting to climb out of his lap, throbbing at the feeling of him grabbing you by the waist and holding you still, knowing you couldn’t get away even if you tried.

“You weren’t saying that last time, princess. You were begging me for more…” Yunho picked up the flog, running his fingers along the woven leather, before he cracked it in the air, making Yeosang and you jolt from the sudden loud noise, bringing joy to the emperor. “Take a deep breath for me, Y/N…”

Just as you did so, Yunho brought the flog down onto your ass, watching the individual leather straps leave pretty red marks on your skin, groaning, “So pretty… you’re so pretty for me, princess…” and repeating the motion, lacking the proper self control to stop himself, even when you began to cry, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle.

“F-fuck…! Stop!” You kicked your legs and thrashed around until you were able to wiggle out of his grasp, just barely making it over to Yeosang’s large scribing table, before Yunho slammed you down onto it, knocking over one of the ink bottles with his rough handling of you.

“Crying just for me, princess? You’re making me so hard,” Yunho sighed into your ear, moving closer to your face to lick one of your tears away, his hot breath hitting your cheek, your ass stinging more when he grabbed it roughly, bolts of pleasure shooting into your core.

“You fucking asshole…” you choked out, about to pull yourself up when the emperor pinned your hands painfully behind your back, feeling his knee press in between your thighs.

Yunho tugged more of your garments off without a care in the world, huffing and as he shoved his hand in between your thighs from behind, rubbing two fingers along your clothed cunt, before tearing it off with ease. “Ahh, that’s what I thought…You’re so wet for me, Y/N.” He looked to Yeosang, who was blushing wildly, still just sitting there and haphazardly recording the chaos that was occurring right next to him, knowing it wasn’t his place to interact in any way unless either of you allowed him to. Yunho continued to rub at your cunt, enjoying the noises you and your gushing slit were making. “Hey, scribe, make sure you make a note about how fucking soaked your empress gets from getting manhandled by an enemy emperor. That’s an important detail, isn’t it, princess?”

You struggled underneath the man, starting to feel ink soaking into your expensive garments, some of it staining your cheek. “Yunho, get off of me, or so help me–” You suddenly found yourself gasping for air, having been flogged again, though this time some of the leather straps reached your cunt, feeling it sting pleasurably in between your trembling thighs.

Yunho looked over to Yeosang, who had his fingers clenched around his brush, his free hand in between his clenching thighs. “Hey, Yeosang, do you know why the previous scribe quit?” When he shook his head, Yunho grinned, admiring the pattern of bruises he left on your ass, running his fingers lightly over them. “He couldn’t handle watching his beloved empress cry and take what I so graciously gave her, but you can, can’t you, Yeosang?”

He bit his bottom lip, feeling conflicted, not sure if he should nod or not. He instead looked to you, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. “Your Highness…” Yeosang whispered softly, hesitantly placing one hand on top of yours, holding it tightly.

You looked up at him, smiling gently, blowing a bit of hair out of your hazy eyes, reaching your other hand over to rub the top of his knuckles. “It’s okay, Yeosang…I want this…”

Yunho grabbed you by the hair, forcefully lifting up your head so that he could get a good look at you, practically drooling at this point, his cock throbbing against your backside. “Say that again…Let me hear it…”

You turned your head to look at him, smiling sweetly, before you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit onto his cheek, satisfied with the way it dripped down along his tightening jaw. “If you hurry up and fuck me instead of continuing on with this bullshit, I’ll think about it.”

Turned on beyond measure, Yunho grabbed your own jaw, forcing it open so that he could send a wad of spit straight down your throat, chuckling darkly at the moan that escaped your parted lips. “This is why you’re my favorite, princess. You’re such a bratty little thing, just aching to be put in your place, huh? You want me to do that? Fuck you into submission in front of your sweet little scribe? Just say the word….”

This time around, Yunho could see the desperation on your flushed face, your lips forming a pout. “Please…” you whined, surprising yourself and the two men watching you with your sudden act of obedience.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking it right there…” Yunho groaned, pulling at the sash wrapped securely around his slim waist and pulling it loose, so that he could gain access to his undergarments, quickly tugging his stiff, leaking cock out. “Do you draw portraits too, scribe? This slut’s pretty face should be kept in the history books…”

Yeosang nervously shook his head, starting to spread the ink across his scroll from watching the way Yunho pushed you up against the wall, so close to Yeosang that his garments spilled into his lap, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist, just as he fully sheathed himself inside you, your soaked panties pushed to the side.

“No? That’s too bad…Well, at least jot down the fact that I conquer your Highness’s tight little cunt every time I give her a visit…” Yunho huffed out, smiling at you with his canines showing, his hands cemented tightly around your bare waist, bringing himself down to one of your tits to suck it into his open mouth.

“God, will you just–aaah–shut the fuck up and…nnngh…fuck me properly?” you asked in between pants, barely able to take the emperor’s thick, oversized cock without feeling like you were going to break, your nails digging into his straining upper back through his garments, one side of his robe starting to drape off one of his broad shoulders.

“Yeah? You want it rough just like every other time, don’t you, whore?” Yunho groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue up over your spit-laced tit to attack your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving your skin in various shades of red and purple. “Write this down too, scribe. The people should know that this pretty princess can’t cum unless she has a horsecock ramming into her cunt. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”

You couldn’t even speak at this point, from the way Yunho lifted one leg up onto the scribe table, using the leverage to fuck into you as deep and hard as he could, about to cream yourself from the way he kept you pinned down, just using you like a doll made for his pleasure.

Now almost directly underneath his empress and the enemy emperor’s rapidly joining bodies, Yeosang couldn’t help but look up, fixated on the way your cunt spread open each time Yunho slammed himself inside your clenching hole, feeling a few drops of your mixed arousal drip down onto his face and roll down his warm cheek. He gingerly opened his mouth and held his tongue out, now pressing his brush directly into the soaked paper, leaning his back against the wall behind him, his hand beginning to rub at his pre-cum soaked cock that was still trapped underneath his heavy garments.

“God, you’re so fucking wet, princess…I think I might…slip out…” Yunho sighed heavily against your ear, roughly nibbling it with the aid of one of his canine teeth, slowly sliding his cock out of you and slapping his heavy cock against your abdomen, smearing his pre cum onto your skin.

The feeling of being completely empty just as you were about to cum almost sent you into a full-blown rage, practically ready to start another war with Yunho if he didn’t stick his cock back inside you. You abruptly grabbed him by the hair, clutching a tuft of his damp icy blond locks, leaning in so that your lips ghosted his. “Fuck me, you goddamn bastard. Make me cum.”

This time Yunho didn’t play any games, simply rubbing his cockhead back and forth over your throbbing clit just to make you shudder against him, before he slipped back inside, immediately pounding himself into you, essentially leaving you breathless. “Look at you just taking it, princess… I know it’s big…You’re doing so well for me…taking it so good, princess…I’m so proud…”

The sudden bout of praise coming from the enemy in such a sickly sweet tone, especially while he began to pump hot loads of cum into you, sent you barreling over the edge, not doing your dear scribe any favors when you began to babble nonsensically, tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body.

“Yeahhh, take it, princess…I’m gonna knock you up so you have to marry me.” Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers squeezing into your hips, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, biting at your bottom lip before he pulled away.

“You’re disgusting,” you huffed, grimacing at him, despite the fact that your thighs were still trembling.

“Don’t say that, princess,” Yunho whined, leaning his forehead against yours, slowly pulling out inch by inch. “You know how hard that makes me…” He looked down to Yeosang, who was breathing heavily underneath the both of you, his mouth agape, splashes of arousal decorating his pretty, flushed face and damp hair. “Hey, scribe, you’ve been a good boy just sitting here and watching the whole time. You want a taste of your Highness’s used cunt?”

Feeling sufficiently dizzy, Yeosang looked to you for approval, feeling his cock pulse at your slow dazed nod, bringing his hands up to your thighs to caress them, bringing his lips up to kiss and lick at the wetness around your cunt with a gentleness that would’ve had you collapsing if your legs weren’t securely hooked over Yunho’s shoulders.

“Make sure you get it all…” Yunho murmured softly, completely pulling out of you with a wet, shlick sound, dribbles of his cum beginning to gush out of your gaping hole, allowing Yeosang to collect it inside his drooling mouth. Yunho brought a free hand to Yeosang’s head, holding him against your cunt, finding great joy in the desperate, sloppy manner in which he ate you out, like a delirious, thirsty man that had just found a hidden oasis.

It was when Yeosang slipped his slender fingers deep inside your pulsing cunt, his hot mouth closed around your sensitive clit, that you began to whine and whimper, one arm hooked around Yunho’s neck for support, your free hand going down to grab onto Yeosang’s hair when Yunho let go, gazing down to find him already looking up at you with half closed eyes.

“It’s so good, you’re so good for me, Yeosang, I’m going to…oh my god…”

Yeosang clutched one side of your bruised ass with one hand, curling three of his fingers inside you and rubbing them against your clenching walls, lapping at your clit, his thighs closing together, his cheeks bright red from the praise.

All the while, Yunho simply watched on, his chest swelling with pride, occasionally leaving kisses and licks on your straining, marked-up neck. “Cum for him, will you, princess? Won’t you soak his pretty face with your squirt?”

Having your lovely scribe in between your legs, eating your cunt like it was his assigned job to do so, having your sworn enemy pressing his heated, sweaty body against yours, more filthy words leaving his lips for your shared pleasure was all far too much. “Yeosang…!”

Yeosang found himself being covered in a warm spray of liquid, tasting your squirt on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment to bask in the pleasure of it all, opening them back up just in time for you to pull him into your arms, your bare body against his half-dressed one. “Your Highness…”

“I didn’t mean to do such a dirty thing to you, Yeosang, I’m so sorry…” You used your sleeves to wipe some of the wetness away from his face, blushing more than you had during the whole night.

“Your Highness…” he repeated, softer this time, giving you a shy smile, pulling his robe apart until you could see what he had done to himself.

Your eyes widened at the milky stains of cum splattered across the insides of his ceremonial garments, looking back up into his eyes, returning his shy smile. “If I had known you had such an affinity for me, I wouldn’t have looked for suitors this long. Who needs them when I have you?”

Yeosang reached up to hold his heated cheeks, dumbfounded by the string of events, unable to believe that his beloved empress could feel such a way about him. “It’d be an honor to always be by your side…”

You giggled, reaching up to place a hand over his, your thumb brushing over his pretty birthmark.

Yunho cleared his throat, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, his robe already wrapped ornately around his body, looking like he did when he first entered the meeting room, besides the afterglow he was now sporting. “I’d love to stay here longer and experience this beautiful moment with you both, but my job here is done.” He patted both of your heads, as if he were a proud father, before heading taking a few elegant strides towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you, his tongue poking into one of his canine teeth, giving you a shit-eating smirk. “Until next time, princess.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes, your arms still around Yeosang, watching your smug enemy leave the room with a soft chuckle.

Yeosang chuckled softly, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, feeling confident enough to share his thoughts with you. “Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Your Highness.”

“Heyyy,” you whined, giving him a pout, watching him pick up his drying brush up from the table. “Don’t you dare write that down.” When he motioned to dip his brush into the spilled ink, you hugged onto him from the side. “Yeosangggg, I’m still your empress!”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “By the way, what was that question you wanted to ask me?”

Yeosang gulped, studying the ink-stained table below for a second, before turning his head to look at you, your faces just centimeters away from one another. “Will you replace me one day, Your Highness?”

Your eyes widened slightly, taking in your scribe’s vulnerability, wanting to return the same energy to him, as he was deserving of it. “Never, Yeosang. You’re here to stay.”

Yeosang blushed fervently, dropping the brush back down to hug you into his arms, nuzzling your neck gently, his hair tickling your skin, about to melt inside his empress’s grasp. “Promise?”

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, pressing your lips to his cheek, waiting for him to look back into your eyes to whisper, “Promise.”

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the-fluff-piece · 10 months

Note

Hello! For your event, I would like to request, please! Its a mix of the rules I guess? I got inspired by the prompts, hope that's ok!

Gifting Law a coin he did not have - sweet fluff.

Thank you!

Hello Anon,

It's always ok to get inspired by the prompts, that is a great request, I had a lot of fun with it ❤

This is part of the follower milestone event

If you like this story check out my masterlist

Here's

A coin for your thoughts

You use your alone time with Law to give him your newest find: a very rare coin with a rich history. His infodump can only be stopped with lots of kisses!

Sweet, fluffy, comforting

You found it in an antique shop - a rusty, small coin with peculiar pictures on it. One side showed a single lighthouse and a banner reading "mist island", the other showed various scientific tools engulfed by swirling tendrils of smoke - or mist?

As you looked at it the clerk gave you short information about the heritage of the coin, confirming your suspicion: the island, said to be situated in the new world, is shrouded in a mysterious mist that never lifts. Scientists from the world government tried to research it, a city was built, people moved there.

But after about 10 years, everyone on the island vanished without a trace. This coin was really, really rare. You employed all your skills to check for its authenticity, and went to great lengths to get it at a good price - eventually settling for a trade where you gave up a souvenir from your journeys in exchange.

With a big smile, you returned to the Polar Tang - what would Law say to it? Will he like it? Will he recognise it? His knowledge of the coins and their stories was vast, surely he knew more about it than the clerk.

You waited all day until it was time to retire to your shared room. Law sat down on his desk to "just read a little bit more" as he promised, but he wouldn't get the chance. You had cleaned and polished the coin until it looked brand new and the copper and silver alloy showed its beautiful colours.

Standing behind him, you looked over his shoulder - anatomy. He read the same books again and again and never got sick of them. You watched him trace the line of a muscle on the page with his finger, letting him finish following the inked picture to its end. When he was done, he looked behind and smiled at you, just breathing your name as he always did to tell you he was now there for you.

Without a word, you slipped the small trinket onto the page and prepared for his reaction. His blue eyes widened and his whole face changed to that of a little boy who just got the present of his life. He created a small frame with his thumb and index finger to hold the small coin to the light of his desk lamp.

"Mist island!" His voice was not the deep and sensual velvet you were used to. Instead, he sounded more boyish, his voice a higher pitch and with a vivid inflection of happiness.

Turning around the silvery object in his long, nimble fingers, he watched the light play around the edged lines, his thumb regularly brushing over the surface to feel the smoothness of the coin and follow the small pictures on it. He spent a long time studying the swirling mist, doubtlessly feeling every detail with his sensitive finger tips.

His mouth stood open in a silent smile as you watched him lovingly, seeing how much joy your gift brought him.

"Ah!" A short noise escaped him. "An impurity!" He pointed to the smallest imperfection in the material.

"You know this happens when the temperature changes to fast in production" he explained to you for what must the millionth time. But you didn't mind, he just loved talking about alloys and metal production. It was heralding the spill of information that was to follow.

Law pushed the chair back from the desk and collected you onto his lap, putting his arms around you so that you two were looking at the coin together. He rested his chin on your shoulder and pressed his cheek to your face. His beard tickled you as he spoke:

"The island was a scientific research centre to lift the mystery of the mist!" He explained close to your ear in his best nerd-voice, leaving a second to chuckle at his expert joke. He held up the side of the coin with the curling mist.

"Because the mist never lifted, it never even got thinner, the island was shrouded in darkness all day, all year. It was unusually thick. The lighthouse" - he turned the coin around - "was the strongest the marine ever built, but it could hardly penetrate the thick soup. Many ships broke on the perilous coast. The great marine scientist Prof Voltan tried to get to the bottom of it all and he vanished alongside his crew of scientists and all the inhabitants of the island in one night. The speculations are outlandish!" He laughed.

"There were even rumours about pre-existing structures on the island, full of unknown symbols and pictures..." his voice trailed off.

"But that's all nonsense!" He concluded, although he couldn't hide a bit of excitement in his voice. He was so adorable when he nerded about his interests. You couldn't help but to kiss his cheek and he smiled, but he didn't stop talking.

"You know they used a special tool to catch and analyse the mist" he explained, not letting your kisses down his jaw distract him. You turned around on his lap to straddle him and reach his kissable areas more easily.

He continued his lesson: "they called it the nebuloscope! It sucked in the mist" your mouth made a sucking sound as you worked on the soft skin of his neck " and the great problem was to build a container from where it couldn't..." he couldn't end the sentence, since you nibbled at the soft patch of skin on his neck that made him loose his mind without fail.

"It couldn't...i mean the couldn't...it wasnt...", he tried to continue a few more times but failed, his speech slurred into a pant.

"Babe stop that..." he panted as you mercilessly held his skin between your lips. However, you were in a good mood and stopped, for him.

He exhaled and shifted beneath you, as his little nerd brain whipped him to tell you even more of the island mystery: "the coin itself is made from ore found on the island, it's not exactly common silver and copper." You let him explain for a short while before kissing trails down his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt.

He leaned back with his brows creased and a whimper, and continued to dump all the info in his head onto you.

"The ore...had strange properties...marine...tried to harvest it...but..." the small movements you made with your hips seemed to steal the blood from his head and you opened his shirt to marvel at your boyfriend's chest. His eyes were pressed close as he struggled for control. He knew he would eventually lose but he held on bravely. He was just trying to get into iron smelting as you pressed soft kisses to his mouth, stopping the flow of words gently.

He put the coin on his desk and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to carry you to the bed. As he laid you down and came to rest next to you, he began to repay the favour, nibbling on you ear.

"Thank you babe, I love you" he whispered into your ear and stopped talking for the night as he cuddled you happily. The rest of his speech would come tomorrow at breakfast .

__________

This one was really fun and inspiring to me. Maybe Law and y/n will find a misty island one day and have a spooky mystery adventure?

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x y/n #law is a nerd #law loves coins #odp follower event #the fluff piece

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auroravictorium · 1 year

Text

snow on the beach (pt. 2) (k.b.)

Summary: while snow falls over ketterdam, kaz wins a fight against one of his worst enemies with the reader's support.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker & reader (mostly established relationship) Word Count: ~2.8k Warnings: kaz battles his touch aversion, very minor mentions of drinking, mentions of drowning, mentions of death of a sibling, and lots of inner turmoil but it does get better Genre: angst w fluff at the end!

Author's Note: hello hello! sorry for the delay on this part. i meant to have it up yesterday, but i got busy w work and uni assignments. i was screaming while i wrote this, and i hope you guys love it <33

part one grishaverse masterlist

You examined the new tattoo on your forearm as you exited Amalia's parlor. The frigid air stung against your skin, but you didn't pull your sleeve down yet. The sight of the tattoo entranced you. You'd given your blood, sweat, tears, and almost your life for this; seeing it made the pain worth it.

Kaz had been silent since the almost-kiss. Aside from rolling up his sleeve for Amalia to reference his tattoo for yours, he was perfectly still and quiet the whole time she added the ink to your skin. He seemed lost in thought, and you weren't sure whether you should ask about it.

He mutely led you out of the alleyway and onto the street, then crossed the uneven road onto the sidewalk along the harbor. You trailed after him and took your spot at his side. Once next to him, you put the six inches of space back between you and snuck a glance at his face.

"Don't do that," he said quietly, just for you to hear. The city was awake once more, and he didn't want anyone listening in. He didn't need you in even more danger if someone figured out who you were to him. It was bad enough that you were passing through disputed territory next to him. He was sure there was at least one Dime Lion nearby, salivating at the thought of taking both of you out.

He picked up the pace, eyes sweeping the streets. You sensed the sudden urgency sweeping over him and jogged to keep up.

"Do what?" you asked, rolling your sleeve back down. You knew not to question the urgency. That was just Kaz. But what was it that he didn't want you to do?

"The distance." Because I failed to kiss you, he silently added. Because you know I want to be close to you but can't. He felt like a failure of a... whatever he was to you. He didn't like 'boyfriend.' It felt like a word he would use if he didn't feel so damaged. It felt like a kind word, and he wasn't kind. He didn't want to pretend to be, and he didn't think you wanted that from him either.

You looked down at your boots, curling your fingers into your palms. A blush crawled up your face. "I'm sorry," you said softly. You stepped closer and brushed your elbow against his as you walked. "I didn't mean it that way. I assumed you... wanted space."

He nodded tightly to accept your apology and kept walking. His cheerful mood from earlier had entirely disappeared, but not because he was upset at you. He was angry with himself. He felt like he was losing the war on his fear, and he wondered what you saw in him. Why did you want to be with him when he struggled to touch you? He was also moody and violent, and he choked whenever he tried to open up. He was the kind of person he didn't think you wanted to be with, and his failed attempt at kissing you had only confirmed that fear. At any moment, he expected you to open your mouth and end... whatever this was, and he would lose another person he cared about to the harbor.

The two of you walked in silence until you reached the Slat. As you turned to say something, anything to break the silence, Kaz went inside. You stood still for a moment, surprised by his easy dismissal of you after spending the entire morning together. You stared after him, heart aching, as he limped past a few Dregs waiting for his attention and up the flights of stairs to the attic.

Suddenly, the warm breakfast you envisioned upon your return to the Slat didn't seem all that appealing.

You went to your room and flopped onto your stiff mattress, squeezing your eyes shut and digging the palms of your hands into your eyes. Maybe that would block out the thoughts of the almost-kiss so that you could think coherently about what you could do to repair this. Unfortunately, trying to avoid it only made you think about it more.

You were worried about Kaz. He didn't like to talk to anyone about what he thought or felt, and he was also impossible to read. You had no idea where his mind was. He was upset, but that was all you could gather from the suffocatingly silent walk back to the Slat and his disappearance into his room.

Maybe you had pushed him or made him feel like you needed him to touch you to be happy with him. Maybe you had gotten too close and made him feel like he had to try to kiss you. Pushing him was the last thing you wanted; if that did happen, no wonder he needed space.

You were happy without much physical contact. You were content with the brushes of hands and secret gazes at the Crow Club. All you wanted was his occasional smile, reserved just for you in the seclusion of his room, and the tap of his cane against your shoe to tell you that he cared. You wanted him for who he was and wouldn't change anything about him. He'd taken you as you were two years ago, bloodstained and a shell of a person. It was only with time that you'd gotten to where you were; Kaz had done nothing to force that transformation, and you would never try to force him either.

You only wished you could ease the pain of whatever had happened to him when he was young. Kaz didn't deserve to be fighting all the time. Nobody did.

The next few hours passed in a blur of reading a book Kaz left in your room a few weeks ago, tidying up your room, then working your shift at the Crow Club. It was your unlucky day to deliver drinks around the Club while men gambled away their life savings at the tables and leered at you as you passed. Usually, you didn't mind their boisterous laughter and foolish behavior (after all, it put kruge in your pockets), but today it irked you. Maybe it was the early start to the day or the fact that you skipped breakfast and lunch. Or maybe it was because Kaz was watching you from wherever he was in the room, surveying the action and monitoring the behavior of his patrons. No matter where you moved, those piercing blue eyes were on you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

As you ducked behind the bar to prepare another tray of drinks, a cane thumped behind you and made you jolt in surprise. Per usual, you hadn't heard him coming.

You turned to face Kaz, a bottle of watered-down liquor in your hand. He'd changed into all black; instead of a black vest lined with gold thread, he wore an all-black vest over a black button-up. And, naturally, a top coat even though it was sweltering in the Club.

Your mouth went dry with nerves. "Hey," you said. You started to pour more drinks, awaiting a response. Kaz didn't speak and instead gently tapped his cane against your boot, turned, and marched off toward the back exit of the Crow Club. At least he was clear he wanted you to follow him this time.

"Cover me?" you asked one of the newest Dregs tending the bar whose name you hadn't learned. You grabbed your folded coat from a shelf beneath the bar and slipped away after Kaz.

After pushing through clusters of gamblers waiting for seats, you made it into the crisp air. Kaz leaned against a wall, his pale skin standing out starkly against the grimy bricks. His eyes settled on you as you emerged into the night, but you weren't looking at him. Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at the sky.

Snowflakes had started to flutter down over Ketterdam. They caught the moon's light, making them glitter as they swirled through the air and landed on buildings and the East Stave. The canal had frosted over sometime during the frigid day, and the snow created a sparkling coating over the usually murky waters.

Time seemed to slow as you took in the strange but beautiful sight of snow falling over the city you'd come to call home.

You nearly forgot that Kaz was there until he shifted his weight and unhitched himself from the wall. Your attention turned to him, and you were surprised by the anxiousness you found on his face.

"Hey," you repeated. You stuffed your hands in your pockets. The fear that you'd pressured him to try to kiss you nagged at you from the back of your mind, so you kept your distance.

Kaz clutched his cane so tightly that his gloves strained against his knuckles, and he exhaled a slow breath that clouded in the air. He nearly suffocated from the words in his throat. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. I'm sorry I can't give you what you deserve.

"Earlier," he started, settling for saying something else while he battled the habit of keeping his feelings sealed away. "You didn't do anything wrong." It was me. It was Ketterdam, which damaged me beyond repair. And I know you resent me for it.

A weight lifted from your chest, but you still hesitated before stepping closer. Only a foot between the two of you now. You fidgeted with your coat, absently brushing your fingers over the forearm where your tattoo lay underneath. You admired the flecks of snow on your sleeve before they melted into the fabric while you considered your words. "I worried I pushed you," you admitted. "Getting as close as I did. And made you feel like you had to try to kiss me."

Kaz closed his eyes and inhaled the smoky city air, tinged with sweetness from the snow. "I wanted to," he breathed, letting the words out with another cloud of air. His breath smelled like the good liquor hidden from view behind the rows of cheap stuff. He'd taken one shot for courage and one because he was nauseous at the mere thought of trying to tell you this.

His words drew you in, and you fought to keep yourself from stepping too close. Eight inches between your chests now, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. Your breathing stuttered as you looked up at him, searching his face. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

He didn't open his eyes as he continued. "I wanted to kiss you. Today. Yesterday. The day before. The day I helped you put the necklace on." His lungs burned as he forced the words out. But I'm broken. I'm weak. I don't know how to fight my fear, so I hide it, and I hide from you.

His thoughts were almost too much. He wanted to turn away, to take back every word he said and protect his heart. Seal the cracks in his armor. The shots had done their job too well.

Kaz opened his eyes and found you standing only six inches from him. It was always six. Six inches was a safe distance, agreed upon by the two of you five months ago, before you started to threaten the defenses he'd thrown up around his heart. You hadn't even done so deliberately. You'd been cautious and respectful and maintained those six inches even when he wished you wouldn't.

Those six inches suddenly infuriated him. He hated the terror that burned within him and kept gloves on his hands. He hated how it kept you far away. He hated that he'd been working himself up to do this since that morning when he sensed the snow in the air through the ache in his leg, and he was still terrified. He hated that despite knowing that you loved the snow and that the first snow of the season would be the perfect opportunity for this, he still struggled to take those steps forward.

It nearly startled him when his rage obeyed his summons and flared up so brightly that his terror cowered.

Kaz took the chance.

The air shifted, and you were unprepared for the sudden fury in Kaz's eyes. You wanted to shrink under that look, but you held your ground and his gaze. Kaz stepped forward and closed the distance. He paused when you stood chest to chest, his neck craned so that his lips were mere centimeters from yours. He paused, hesitation flickering across his face in a display of uncertainty.

It was the same look he had earlier, except with the addition of snow landing in his hair and on his eyelashes. The sight would have made you laugh if you hadn't been entranced by his closeness or waiting with bated breath for his next move.

You didn't dare move closer or further away.

"Kaz," you breathed, intending to ask if he was okay, if he wanted this, if he was doing this because he thought it was what you wanted. But his eyes had you spellbound, and you forgot what you wanted to say.

"Can I?" he said. His voice was rough, raw with desperation. He could do this. He needed to prove to himself that he could fight his fear and win.

You nodded, a slight dip of your chin. You understood. Kaz didn't tell you everything, but there were some things he didn't need to explain to you. Especially after five months of something.

Another beat passed. Another. Another.

Kaz took a deep breath. The water was there now, rising as he hesitated. It lapped at his calves and rose to his knees. It threatened to jerk the cane from his hands and sweep him to the bottom of the harbor.

Before it could take him, he kissed you. His nose bumped against yours, his hands were fisted on top of his cane, and he hadn't a damn clue what he was doing, but he did it. The harbor swirled violently around him, tugging, soaking his clothing. It did not approve of his disobedience.

He focused on you. Your lips were soft and warm against his, and your fingers found the lapels of his jacket. He could feel your chest rise and fall against his and your heart thundering away through the layers of clothing separating your bodies.

You were alive. The water wasn't there. It was only you and your breathing and your pulse. The thought kept him from spiraling right then.

You tightened your grip on his lapels before you pulled away, not wanting to push your luck. Your breathing came a bit faster, and blood rushed to your face. Kaz looked like he wasn't quite sure what happened, but he didn't seem to regret it. That you could tell, anyway.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, taking a step back to put some space between you. Reluctantly, you released his coat and dropped your hands back to your sides. Concern bloomed in your chest when Kaz didn't respond immediately, and you worried he'd pushed himself too far.

He nodded slowly. The rage that fueled him to kiss you was gone, replaced by an ache in his chest and the sensation that he couldn't get air into his lungs. He leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, looking up a the sky. He could feel your eyes on him, and he forced himself to speak. "I.. need time. Before I can do that again." He didn't regret it, but he recognized the weight on his lungs as a sign that he couldn't do it again anytime soon. There was too much residual panic that he wanted to work through first.

You leaned against the wall next to him and gently nudged his boot with yours. "Kaz?"

He looked down at you, expecting disappointment on your face. There wasn't any disappointment or anger to be found, and his shoulders loosened.

"I'm proud of you," you told him. You brushed your fingers across the hand on his cane and offered him a small smile. He won out against his fear, and you couldn't be prouder of him. "And you've got snow in your hair."

Kaz's lips quirked, and he tapped his cane against your shoe just so you knew he appreciated your words. He needed them more than he could admit. "Shouldn't you be back inside by now?"

"Shouldn't you be running your gambling house instead of kissing me?" you taunted, flashing him a grin and slipping out of the alley and back into the Club.

Behind you, Kaz tilted his head to face the sky and allowed himself a moment of the peace he'd seen in you when you saw the snow falling. His eyes slipped shut, and he breathed in the cold winter air.

It was the first time in a long time that Kaz felt like he wasn't drowning.

(part 1, if you missed it) TAGLIST: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @tonberry-yoda

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bae04xx · 7 months

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Cam you write a yandere dream sans x reader please

im a little rusty with the undertale aus so sorry if this is out of character 😭 i tried my hardest xx

this is so shit man i’m sorryyyy

kinda yandere dream sans x reader

fluff ☁️

dream lay in between my legs, his head resting up against me as he read. some new book he had been raving about, i’d been struggling to focus, or even listen to anything for the last couple of days- it’s been getting on my nerves. after being cooped up in this.. space? i’m not really sure what it was called, you get a bit stuck in your own head. too conscious of your own thoughts, i get like that. it gets worse when dream is off doing god knows what for hours at a time- he doesn’t tell me much, never has, you just get used to be in the dark, doesn’t make it any more bearable but it makes you expect it.

“y/n? y/n?” dream calls out to me, breaking me from my mental rant.

“huh? yeah sorry,” i reply sheepishly as i hear a sigh from him, he places his book down.

“what are you thinking about?” he beams, i can feel him smiling despite not being able to see.

“nothing much, just wondering what you’re reading,” i lie, i know he can tell but he goes along with it anyway.

“you feel quite tense for just that,” he chuckles, “i’m going to have to meet blue and ink soon, we’ve got some things to figure out,” he massages my thigh as i lean back, exhaling softly before i decide what to say.

“..why don’t i come?” i speak, just above a whisper, my question makes him go slightly rigid.

“well, y/n, um. i’ll have to think about it,” he stammers, unsure of what to say. dream is one of the most positive people i know, i never usually see him looking for his words.

“it’s alright, i just thought it’d be nice to meet your friends, considering you spend so much time with them,”

“trust me i spent a lot more time with them before i met you, and they’re starting to have a few questions about that. maybe it’d be good if you met them,” he announced, jumping up and dusting himself off.

i quickly followed, letting him guide me to where we we’re going.

after a strange way of transportation, we arrived. there were 2 other skeletons like him, one with a paint brush and another with a blue bandana- they suited their names. who i presumed was blue jumped up when he saw me, cocking his head at dream, while ink stayed seated, his eyes narrowed at me.

“WHO’S THIS!?” blue demanded, attempting to rush over to me, only to be pulled back by ink. dream had spoken very little of them both beyond their names but i could guess ink was in charge by his demeanour.

“this is y/n, she’s been living with me for the past couple of months. i thought she should meet you two,” he smiled, his arm firmly around my waist.

“and you bought her to a meeting?” ink questioned, a slight bite in his voice.

“HELLO HUMAN Y/N, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” blue almost screamed, i didn’t really know what to say.

“it’s nice to meet you y/n,” ink said, a forced politeness to me, i could tell he didn’t mean to be rude but there was something beneath the surface. “can we speak to you alone dream?” he asked, tapping his bony fingers rhythmically against the table.

“of course you can, y/n would you mind going into the other room?” he asked, pointing to a wooden door to my left, i walked off, ignoring the goodbyes from the 3 skeletons.

there i tried to drown out their argument, i heard my name being thrown around like a game of piggy in the middle. dream drastically trying to defend not only me but myself, ink interrogating him about where i came from, who i was, if i was dangerous and how much of a risk i made them. and blue was just joining in, asking so many questions about me. i desperately tried to ignore it, wishing for some headphones, or at least to be put in a room far, far away from them.

after an hour of being on my own, dream burst into the room, a tired, forced smile on his face.

“y/n! come on, we’re going,” we sighed, trying his best to keep his normal bubbly energy up.

“what even happened?” i asked as he dragged my arm lightly.

“we’ll discuss this next time,” ink spoke calmly, clearly with ruffled feathers.

“there’s nothing more to discuss.” dream said sternly, ending the conversation- you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.

when we got home i was still very confused, as always.

“what was that all about?” i asked, while dream held me, he had told me before that my presence alone can calm him down, so i think that’s what he needed right now.

no response.

“dream?” i questioned again, waiting for an answer.

5 minutes of silence went by before he stated,

“they want to take you away from me.”

“what?” i didn��t know how to feel, or what to say, dream was trying his hardest to stay calm and remain in a happy place, yet the way he was acting was eerie.

“but i’m not going to let them do that, you’re never leaving me. i promise.”

#undertale au x reader #undertale x reader #dream sans #dream sans x reader #fanfic #x reader fanfic #undertale #undertale au #i struggled with this #yandere #yandere sans x reader #yandere sans #yandere dream sans #yandere dream sans x reader #sorry if this is bad

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Hiiiiiiiii hdisjxksjdj I have 2 ideas for the fic writing request! Feel free to choose whichever one you'd like to do or both! 💝💝💝 love youuu

1: Steve's parents meet his new friends and are shocked at how happy he is. + they see that Steve and his friends all wear a similar-style friendship bracelet made by the kids.

2: platonic stobin with the song lyric (brother by Kodaline: I took out the chorus bc it doesn't match here):

When we were young we were the ones

The kings and queens oh yeah, we ruled the world

We smoked cigarettes, man, no regrets

Wish I could relive every single word

We've taken different paths

And travelled different roads

I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old

And when you're in the trenches

And you're under fire I will cover you

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea

I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

we'll go deeper than the ink

Beneath the skin of our tattoos

Though we don't share the same blood

You're my brother and I love you that's the truth

We're living different lives

Heaven only knows

If we'll make it back with all our fingers and our toes

Five years, twenty years, come back

It will always be the same

ANOTHA ONE (BUT ACTUALLY TWO)! This first one for some reason got me fucked up. I wrote so much, then 75% of the way through, I hated it and deleted it and started over. The second one was a lot easier, but I did get a little carried away (could have gotten MORE carried away if I didn't have a tiny bit of self control left). ANYWAYS YAY FOR FINISHING ONE OF MY CLASSES WITH A 94 AND BEING ABLE TO POST THESE! LOTS OF LOVE BABEYYYY - Mickala ❤️

------------------------------------------

PROMPT 1

“Where is it?”

Steve was panicking.

Okay, panicking might be dramatic.

It was just a bracelet.

But it wasn’t just a bracelet, actually.

El made them for everyone. They all matched, but she’d added everyone’s initials to theirs so it was still special for each of them.

When she gave Steve his, he hid in the bathroom and cried.

Despite being the King for years, he’d never had any friends like the kids and Robin.

Eddie either, but he’d already passed the line of “friends” into “love of his life”, so he didn’t count.

So when he looked down while he was cooking and realized it wasn’t wrapped around his wrist the way it had been for months, he started to worry.

When he couldn’t find it in the kitchen or the path from the kitchen to the car or the car itself or his bedroom or his bathroom, he started to feel a weight settle in his chest.

He wouldn’t give up yet though. He’d gone outside to check the chemicals in the pool this morning, maybe it had fallen off there.

Just when he was about to go look, he heard a car door slam. Then another one. Then keys at the front door.

Of all the times for his parents to decide they live here, they choose now? When he’d abandoned the casserole he was making on the counter and turned most of the place upside down in the last hour looking for his bracelet?

He took a deep breath, ready to try to brush aside the panic to make sure they didn’t find his behavior unacceptable or suspicious.

“Oh good. You’re home.”

Anne Harrington’s voice used to make Steve relax. She wasn’t ever a great mother, but she was at least here until he hit middle school. Her presence, her voice usually made his dad remain calm.

But when she started going away with his dad, her voice became a dreaded sound.

Instead of it easing the tension he held in his back and jaw, it caused the tension to arrive faster.

Richard Harrington was the root cause of all of that tension, though.

“What’s going on in here?”

Steve tried to make himself appear smaller, that’s what his dad liked from him, and that’s what kept him safe.

“You caught me as I was making dinner. I haven’t been able to clean up yet.”

“Is that a casserole?”

Anne was walking up to the counter, peering down at the casserole dish as she spoke.

“Yes. I’m having friends over later.”

He was at least. Before his parents made a surprise visit.

Just as he checked the clock to see if he had time to call everyone to cancel, he heard more car doors.

Fuck, how late was it?

6:30. Shit.

Of course the one time Eddie gets everyone here on time is the one time his parents decide to show up.

El had joined this campaign at the insistence of Eddie and Will, so he knew she’d notice his bracelet was missing.

He couldn’t let her close enough to see.

No hug hello. No sitting in the room while they played. No hugging goodbye.

He could do that.

El barged in the house first, excitement palpable before she even made it into the kitchen.

“Who the hell is this?”

The voices of the others could be heard walking through the door as El froze with wide eyes.

“Mom, Dad, this is El. She’s Chief Hopper’s daughter? I babysat her.”

They looked at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Steve! Tell Dustin that I’m supposed to be the fun parent!”

Steve’s face paled. Eddie.

Every possible reaction his parents could have ran through Steve’s mind as he actually did start to panic.

Suddenly, everyone from Hellfire was standing in his kitchen. With his parents.

And an uncooked casserole.

He reached for the bracelet on his wrist, then remembered he lost it, and then he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He couldn’t cry in front of his parents.

He walked out of the room, ignoring the confused stares and murmurs from everyone, including his mother.

He walked up the stairs, to his bedroom, then fell on his bed.

No tears fell, but they were there, waiting. For what, he didn’t know.

He could hear footsteps outside of his room. A pause. A gentle knock.

“Steve?”

His mother.

She opened the door slowly, probably just as nervous as he suddenly was.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he managed to choke out.

His mom sat on the edge of the bed, leaving enough space between them that he couldn’t feel any warmth from her, which is how it’s always been.

“We probably should have called.”

It wasn’t an apology, just a statement. More for her than him since she was feeling just as awkward about this as he was.

“Those kids are the ones you babysat?”

“Yeah.”

“They’ve gotten quite big, haven’t they?”

Steve had no idea what she was doing, but he could answer her questions.

“Yeah. Don’t really need me anymore.”

“They’re here, though.”

“I’ll send them home,” Steve started to get up, but his mom’s hand on his shoulder kept him from standing.

“Don’t. We just dropped by to grab a few things. We have a flight in a few hours.”

Ah. So they weren’t staying. If he hadn’t been home when they got here, he probably never would have even known they were here.

For some reason, that hurt. Even after all these years, all these times being left alone.

“They must really love you.”

Her voice sounded different, shaky. Like she was actually trying to show an emotion other than passiveness or disappointment.

She was holding something, he could see her rubbing her fingers along whatever it was.

And then he caught the bright pink.

His bracelet.

“Where did you find that?”

“It was on the ground by the front door. Your father didn’t see it, but I picked it up. Thought it may have belonged to a girl you brought home. Then I saw what all those kids were wearing and saw your initials on it.” She handed him the bracelet and he felt relief wash over him. “You’re lucky to have them.”

He looked at her. Her lips wobbling, her eyes watery, like she was actually happy for him, or maybe a little sad about something else.

Regret. That’s what that look was.

“I wish I had known that you had so many people who love you. I wish I had been here to see you find happiness. You didn’t have any for so long.”

She’d seen it then. She’d seen the way he had to fight loneliness despite being surrounded by people at school. She’d seen the way his face dropped every time they told him they were going on another business trip, how he started to hate that they even bothered to come home at all. She’d seen the way he filled his home with idiot teenagers who barely respected him or the house, who just wanted a place to drink away from their parent’s prying eyes.

She’d seen it and let him feel that hurt anyway.

She still didn’t say she was sorry.

But he thought about if he even wanted that now. If he could even believe it or accept it coming from her.

Probably not.

He took the bracelet from her and wrapped it around his wrist, tightening the string until it was snug.

“I didn’t have anyone for so long because you didn’t seem to think I needed anyone. I don’t know who I would be without them. They’ve done more for me than you or dad ever have, and that’s why I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” Steve sighed. It was exhausting that he even had to say this. “You’re right, though. I am lucky to be loved by them. This bracelet is just one of the physical reminders of that. Thanks for finding it.”

A single tear fell from her eyes, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself feel bad. She could have done this years ago when he needed it most.

Now he had those kids downstairs. He had Eddie. He had Robin. Joyce and Hopper. Claudia. Even the Wheelers.

Suddenly, Eddie was standing in his door, a panicked look on his face.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt.” He wasn’t. “You may need to come downstairs. Erica’s kind of doing that thing she does with your dad.”

Steve’s eyes widened while his mom just looked confused.

Then he heard it.

He jumped up and ran down the stairs, Eddie close on his heels.

“...and another thing! This house isn’t even decorated nicely! You have all this money, right? Why don’t you spend it on things that actually look good? Or a couch that’s actually comfy. How am I supposed to sleep on a piece of plywood with itchy fabric on it? Have you ever tried to sleep on that couch? Probably not since you can’t be bothered to come home.”

Steve put his hand on Erica’s shoulder while he glanced over at his father’s red face. He obviously wasn’t going to do anything to a child, but he didn’t want to take any risks, not with the kids he loved so much.

“Alright, everyone in the dining room! Get your game setup while I put the casserole in the oven.”

Erica glared up at him, but relented when everyone started moving towards the dining room.

Eddie watched as she left too, but he remained next to Steve.

Steve turned to face his father, who was certainly going to have a lot to say to him, but would probably wait until he was alone.

“The neighbor told me you had kids coming and going from here all the time, but I thought they were losing it. Especially when they said that the Munson van was parked in the driveway most nights. I guess they aren’t losing it, after all.”

His tone was outwardly calm, but Steve was well-versed in the silent rage boiling underneath.

He was also well-versed in how his father refused to make their family look bad, even if it was just a bunch of kids.

“They needed a place to play their game. I have plenty of room. It keeps them out of trouble and happy. I get to have people in the house. It’s a win win.”

Steve wasn’t usually this bold with his father, but he knew he was fine with Eddie next to him and his family in the next room.

His dad grunted and looked down at the bracelet wrapped around Steve’s wrist, and the matching one wrapped around Eddie’s.

Steve could feel his brain trying to figure everything out. He didn’t say anything to help.

“I’m sure your mother mentioned we’re just grabbing some things and leaving,” Richard finally said.

“She did.”

“Make sure the house is clean before we get back.”

“Which will be…?”

“Within the next few weeks.”

“Sure.”

They weren’t gonna be back in a few weeks. They probably wouldn’t be back for months, if ever.

Steve noticed that they barely had any of their personal belongings left in the house. He noticed that they had been slowly moving out of the house since his senior year of high school. He noticed that they rarely got mail delivered anymore, and that they didn’t send the gardener or pool cleaner by unless they were coming home.

He knew they had another house in upstate New York, one he’d never even been to and only found out about because his dad’s secretary mentioned it the last time he’d called looking for them.

He figured if they were coming back in a few weeks, it would probably be to tell him they were selling this house and he had to leave.

Which was fine.

He looked down at his bracelet as his dad left the kitchen, tugging on the end of it to make it even tighter.

He had people who would help him if he got kicked out. He had family.

-------------------------------------------------------

PROMPT 2

In 1987, Robin Buckley leaves for college.

They knew it was coming, her gap year truly could only be a year, after all.

Steve tried to put on a brave face.

He was proud of her, of course. She got into Purdue on one of the hardest academic scholarships to get. They’d let her, even encouraged her, to take the gap year, postponing her scholarship for her new start date.

She was leaving tomorrow and Steve didn’t know how to say goodbye.

Eddie was helping with some of the last minute packing she had to do, but he was trying to stay out of their way, give them time and space to enjoy what time they had left.

Suddenly, Steve knew what he needed to do.

“Eds?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got supplies for tattoos right?”

“Tattoos, plural? Going from none to multiple in one go may not be a great idea, sweetheart.”

Robin was watching their interaction with curious eyes, but wasn’t saying anything.

“No, just one for me. But maybe one for Robin too?” He pointed the question at her, giving her a small smile.

“What? A tattoo? Now?”

“If you want. Just something small for us to have before you go.”

Maybe it was a stupid idea.

It’s not like she was leaving the damn country. He’d probably see her once a month at least.

But he was scared that she’d get to college and find a lot of smart friends who could keep up with her and find fewer reasons to visit here, and then Steve wouldn’t be able to convince her to stick around and he’d be alone.

A tattoo would at least ensure she was thinking of him, too.

“What would we get?”

“What about an ice cream cone?”

“Or a scoop?”

Eddie laughed. “You really want me to tattoo ice cream scoops on your bodies? Forever? You know these are permanent.”

Steve and Robin giggled together and nodded.

So it was settled.

They finished what they had to, waving a quick goodbye to Robin’s parents and letting them know she’d be back late. They reminded her they were heading out early in the morning and she ignored them. When they got to Eddie’s trailer, the nerves sunk in for both of them. Not enough to avoid getting the tattoos, but enough to make them hold hands while Eddie prepped the tattoo gun and ink for Steve.

“Alright, where do you want it big boy?”

He pointed to his ankle and looked at Robin, who nodded back at him in agreement.

So Eddie began.

Steve flinched at the first few lines in his skin, but got used to it quickly.

Robin held his hand and watched, talking to him about random things that she thought of that they could do when he visited her on campus.

Eddie finished quickly, smiling up at them both.

When he cleaned up and set up the new needle and ink for Robin, Steve held her hand and talked about all the things he was excited for her to do when she left. He even joked that she’d probably find a girlfriend in her Women’s Studies course.

“I mean that class is just gonna be a bunch of queer women, you better make a move.”

“You don’t know that!” she exclaimed while rolling her eyes.

When Robin’s tattoo was done, they smiled at each other. Robin kissed Eddie’s cheek in thanks and Steve kissed his lips, whispering a quiet thanks against them.

Even if Robin moved on, they’d always have this.

—-------

In 1991, shortly after Robin managed to graduate from school, Steve and Eddie had a massive fight.

They’d never had one before, not like this.

Not one that led to Eddie walking out and staying with Wayne.

Steve’s first call was to Wayne, making sure Eddie was safe.

His second call was to Robin, begging her to come stay with him for a few days so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

He hadn’t been alone in his house since the fall of 1986 and it was suddenly bigger and quieter than ever.

She quickly drove to him, knowing he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t struggling.

When she arrived, Steve sobbed into her shoulder for hours, not even saying anything, not really able to. She let him, didn’t offer any words of comfort, just running her hands through his hair and making sure he kept breathing in and out.

Eventually, she asked.

“I thought you guys were doing great. What happened?”

Steve shrugged, but he knew. He knew that for a few weeks now Eddie had been working a lot more, that Steve had been working a lot more, both of them trying to save money to buy a house that wasn’t a constant reminder of everything bad in their lives. He knew that neither of them were giving each other the attention they deserved. He knew the tiny little snippy comments they both were giving each other kept adding up into a form of resentment he didn’t think either of them could’ve been capable of. He knew when he missed their date because he forgot to call when he found out about the overtime he was scheduled for, it would lead to a pissed off Eddie.

“We’re just under a lot of stress right now.”

“Worse than the literal end of the world?”

“No. Just. Real life is kind of harder sometimes. Is that crazy to think?”

“I guess not. But you guys love each other more than anything. This is just a bump, right?”

“I dunno. He’s staying with Wayne for a bit.”

“How long is a bit?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say. Wayne said he’s barely seen him.”

“Maybe he just needs to cool off. Bet he’ll be back tomorrow.”

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t back that week at all. Robin had to go back to campus to pack before they locked her out permanently, so he was left to work and come home to an empty house.

It sucked, point blank.

But Wayne called him every night before he left for work, and Steve knew that at least Eddie was safe, still going to work, still eating.

The day Robin was supposed to be back, Eddie showed up. He let himself in, which was a good sign. He sat down next to Steve on the couch, another good sign. He sighed, not a great sign, but maybe not a bad one.

He looked at Steve with tears in his eyes.

“I wanna come home.”

Steve let out a sob and folded into Eddie’s chest, Eddie wrapping his arms around him and kissing the top of his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Sh. I’m sorry too, Stevie.”

When Robin arrived, she saw them asleep on the couch, thankfully fully dressed, and smiled to herself. She made her way up to the guest room that was basically hers and went to sleep, content with knowing that she’d gotten Steve through.

—--------

In 1997, Robin lands her dream job offer. Things move quickly. She’s supposed to fly to Italy in three days, but she’s stuck on how to tell Steve.

Steve and Eddie moved to Boston when she did, insisting that they wanted to live a city life. Now that the kids were all gone, they had no reason to stay in Hawkins.

They sold the Harrington mansion, then their own home, and found a nice two bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city. Steve worked in a bakery, so his hours were a bit all over the place depending on the season. Eddie worked as a sound mixer at a record label, which wasn’t his dream job, but close enough that he was happy.

Robin had been working as a tutor for years, enjoying the one on one with teenagers who needed the extra help in their high school foreign language classes. It didn’t pay much, but it was enough.

But she applied to be a teacher, part of a study abroad project for prospective Boston University students that reached 24 different countries. She didn’t really expect to get it, her experience and education level not quite where most of the other applicants were.

But she’d impressed the interviewers with her knowledge of multiple languages, not just fluency in one. They expressed immediate interest and asked her which country she’d prefer.

She told them she preferred Italy, but hadn’t expected to get her first choice.

She did.

And now she had to tell Steve she was leaving the country for at least a year.

She called Eddie first to warn him. He was excited for her, of course, but nervous about how Steve would react.

They frequently joked that she was the side chick in their relationship because Steve would cancel plans just to hang out with Robin. Even as grown adults with grown adult responsibilities, Eddie had to remind them to get some sleep during sleepovers like they were teenagers.

He thought it was adorable.

He told her to come over for dinner, she could talk to him then and he would be there as backup.

So she did.

And it went okay at first. Steve was so excited for her, he kept talking about how she could send real Italian chocolate like he got on a vacation with his parents when he was young.

But then it seemed to slowly sink in what this meant.

No more random meetups in the city for coffee or drinks, no more dinners here at their apartment, calls would have to be scheduled in advance because of the time difference. No hugs or cuddling for a year.

“Maybe we could try to come visit in a few months?” He looked at Eddie hopefully.

“Maybe, sweetheart,” Eddie responded with a small smile.

He knew their finances weren’t bad, but a trip to Italy certainly wasn’t something they were prepared for. Plus, taking that much time off of work would be difficult. They didn’t have another sound mixer right now, which meant if he missed more than a day or two, they’d pretty much have to close up shop.

“I mean, I’m sure with what they’re paying me, I could probably come visit during the Christmas break,” Robin added, though she didn’t sound so sure.

Eddie squeezed Steve’s knee, sensing the tears he was trying to hold back.

“We’ve got time to figure it out.”

Nothing got planned for a while though, because Robin was busier than expected.

She worked six days a week, and on the seventh day, she was usually still grading papers or setting up meetings with the other teachers in the program.

Steve felt like he was fighting constantly for her attention, which wasn’t fair to think because she was just doing her job.

Eddie knew he was getting into a depressive episode about a month in.

He called Robin while Steve was asleep, coming up with a plan to get him out of it before it got bad.

“I’ve got enough money for the flight, but we need somewhere to stay. I think I can swing five days off for both of us if I tell his boss what’s going on. But I can’t do it for at least a month.”

“Okay, just stay with me. I have a pull out couch. My neighbor brings me so much food all the time, I’m sure she’ll wanna feed you both too. I still have to work, but you can explore while I do. Have you guys even taken a real vacation before?”

“Does visiting Dustin count?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

The plan was in place. Steve remained sad, but Robin tried to call as often as she could.

But almost exactly one month later, Steve came home to Eddie packing luggage. His heart stopped for a moment.

“What are you doing?”

Eddie smiled at him, walking over to wrap his arms around him.

“Packing for our trip.”

“What trip?”

“To Italy.”

Steve’s heart started racing.

“What?”

“Gotta get you to see your girl, don’t I? She’s got a couch with our name on it.”

Steve cried for the next hour, leaving wet kisses on Eddie’s cheeks and lips as he helped pack.

When they arrived in Italy, Robin was at the airport holding the chocolates Steve so desperately wanted, but he didn’t care about in that moment.

He was back with his platonic soulmate.

—------

Being engaged wasn’t that important to Steve or Eddie. They couldn’t legally get married anyway, so what was the point of the whole song and dance of asking and wearing a ring?

They’d belonged to each other for so long, it wasn’t necessary.

But in 2003, Eddie changed his mind.

It happened because Robin said something about how marriage equality was looking more likely, like maybe she could actually marry her girlfriend who followed her back from Italy.

And Eddie couldn’t have Robin get engaged before him.

So he found a ring, just a simple gold band with a single diamond. He got it engraved to say “scar on my heart” which was the title of the first song Eddie wrote about Steve for Steve.

He made plans. He called the kids and made them swear not to say anything.

He called Robin and asked if she could be there.

But he should have known Robin couldn’t keep a secret.

“I’m just so excited!”

“For what? It’s just ice cream at the park,” Steve said curiously.

“It’s not just ice cream! It’s a big moment!”

And then she realized what she said. Eddie glared at her.

“What’s the big moment?”

Eddie sighed. He could just say Robin was being dramatic, but Steve wouldn’t buy it, not with the way she looked guilty of murder now.

“I have something to ask you.”

Maybe Steve would leave it.

“What is it? Why does Robin need to be there? Just ask me now.”

Guess not.

“Since I can never have plans that work, fine.” Eddie pulled the box out of his pocket, sending one more glare at Robin, who already had tears in her eyes. He started to drop to one knee but felt hands on his arms.

“Wait! Are you proposing to me?”

“Uh. Trying to, yes.”

Steve started laughing. Not really the reaction he was hoping for.

Then, he pulled a box from his pocket.

Robin clapped and cheered from the side while Eddie just stared in disbelief.

“What?”

“I called Robin to come this weekend so I could propose!”

“But. I called her to come!”

“You both are dinguses! Eddie called me an hour before Steve did if it matters, but you both are ridiculous.”

They looked at each other and laughed as Robin’s words sank in.

“I guess I know your answer then,” Eddie said.

“Ask me anyway.”

“Yeah, I came all this way to see proposals, give me a show!” Robin exclaimed loudly.

“You just need ideas for your girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

Eddie turned to Steve, got down on one knee, and smiled up at him.

“We’re living in a time where we might be able to actually get married and there is nothing I want more than to be able to call you my husband. I’ve loved you for nearly 20 years, and I know I’ll love you more in the next 20, and the 20 after that. What do you say, big boy? Wanna marry me?”

Steve was crying and Eddie could hear Robin sniffling to the side.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eddie placed the ring on Steve’s finger and kissed him so hard, Robin groaned.

“Okay, my turn.”

Eddie stood up with a smirk as Steve got down on one knee.

“Eds, I’ve never been that great with words, but you’ve loved me anyway. Even when I may not have deserved it, even when it may have been hard, even before I was ready to love you back. I’m not going anywhere no matter what the law says, but I want you to wear this so you know I’m all in. Will you be all in too?”

Robin was crying harder now, but Eddie didn’t care.

He nodded and let Steve place the ring on his finger.

Then they both pulled Robin into a hug, all of them crying into each other’s shoulders.

It made sense that she was here for this. She was Steve’s other half, Eddie was just an addition, and he was fine with that.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steve's parents suck #hellfire club #el hopper #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #will byers #future fic #time skips #requests

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aghhtdraws · 1 year

Text

Happy late holidays! A Leosagi/Yuinardo holiday doodle from 2 weeks ago with inks from new years! sfsdf I had a lot of fun figuring this one out. I'll have to return to the animated parts at a later time to properly finish it. A little preview GIF for that for now :3

Sketch + progress below!

the og sketch on my phone notes app! the poses are based on what I think they'd do during holiday prep. Usagi would end up carrying the presents (and would get distracted by many things) while for Leo I thought it would be funny to have a frog pose. So I thought he would prob try to close a gift box (something I find difficulty doing sometimes lol)

Redrawing the sketch in Blender. I really wanted to emulate the feeling of the markers and pens I have in my notes app, so I tried making the default pens as comfortable to use as possible. I like many things about blender greasepencil, but if there's one thing I would like to be a bit more comfortable to use, it's the custom brush creation/pens and pencil in GP in general.

added the gifst and more details....

give it a nice grid and.... basically done!

I'll try finishing the video part of this later this or next week! lol super late holiday card, but I hope u all still like it, haven't done something like this before in blender (with the transparent brushes all-around) so this was exciting :>

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camels-pen · 1 year

Text

a solution like clock repair

Summary: Nothing does the soul good like the ticking of a clock.

based on @modordracena's prompt "Soft and cozy body horror. (Yes borrowing that phrase from Rivers because it’s good and I always want more.)" and @jackdaw-sprite's prompt "Danny discovers some of his insides have become, or been replaced with clockwork." and @five-rivers' prompt "Horror, but soft and cozy with lots of sensation."

also inspired by jackdaw's The Horologist's Paradox

warning: vivisection/dissection, body horror, suicidal thoughts, gore

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1: grandfather clock

They drew the final dotted line up the boy’s stomach, slow and unhurried, smiling at the slight tremble in Daniel’s abdominal muscles with each consecutive mark. They used just enough pressure to press the ink onto skin while also consciously brushing their fingers against their canvas. Once they reached the bottom of the breastbone, they shifted the marker in their hand to leave their index finger free and reached up to poke the tip of a slightly tan nose set above quivering lips.

A giggle escaped the boy, but he quickly pursed his lips. Little irregular breaths huffed out of his nose as he tried to compose himself.

Clockwork smiled. They’d only told Daniel to stay still during the procedure, but it seemed the boy was determined to stay quiet as well. They thought it endearing how he attempted to hold in his laughter, despite Clockwork’s best efforts.

They capped their marker and set it aside. “Comfortable?” they asked. The boy responded with an affirmative hum. Clockwork fluffed his pillow and adjusted the blanket at his waist anyway.

His trembling subsided, so when Daniel spoke it was with a clear, stable voice. “So, what’s this for anyway? A fitting?”

“In a sense,” they said. “Just a little something to take your hurts away.”

“My hurts?”

“Yes.” Those pesky hurts that had always ailed him. Clockwork would take them all away, leave his body better, more durable. Not for the first time, they asked, “Daniel?”

“Hm?”

“Do you trust me?”

And Daniel, he smiled. “Of course I do.”

That last confirmation was all they needed.

Clockwork put a hand over the boy’s eyes. “It’s time for a rest, don’t you think?” They could feel the boy ready to protest—out of a feigned desire not to seem rude, out of a real desire to avoid his nightmares catching up with him—but Clockwork was patient.

They waited until the boy’s excuses ran dry—until the comforting smells of watch oil and metal shavings, and the faint ticking drifting out through their chest started to slow his beating heart. Waited until finally, the boy’s eyes stayed closed.

They pulled their hand away from his eyes, dragging it up to comb through his white hair. One moment longer, to indulge themself on the imperfections littered throughout the precious child laid before them.

They smiled fondly. Each one would be missed, but in the end, Daniel’s quality of existence was more important. They could always revisit this moment—or any of the previous ones—later, after they’d completed their work.

Clockwork pulled the edges of their cloak aside and opened the door in their chest. The brass pendulum swung soundlessly a moment before folding up to the top of the case with a soft click. They reached a hand inside, pulling out a bundle of tools. Brand new and set aside just for Daniel.

They closed the glass door, careful to lock it slowly so as not to wake their charge, and readjusted their cloak. They set a hand on Daniel’s cheek, gently rubbing their thumb in circles across his soft, vulnerable skin. “Thank you,” they murmured.

---

When Daniel appeared in their lair last night, quiet, curled in on himself, and partially transparent, Clockwork did as they always did.

They led the boy to the kitchen, set him down at the table and turned on the stove. Set down a pot. Put in just enough oil. Pulled some chicken thighs from the pantry. Patiently waited for the boy to speak.

“Cutlet?” he murmured, voice hoarse and muffled from where his head laid in his arms.

“Soup.” Because the boy would awaken in his other home a few nights later, with a stubborn cough and a stuffed nose. And because he loved bowtie pasta.

Silence returned as Clockwork seasoned the meat and set it down in the pot. The sound of sizzling oil and the smell of cooking chicken filled the air.

“Does it ever get easier? Being—” The sudden silence made Clockwork look back. Daniel shuddered. “Being—” His breath hitched.

Clockwork moved to set a hand between the boy’s shoulders, rubbing at his back through his thick sweater. They mulled over words that told the truth and words that didn’t hurt. “It is… a unique experience,” they settled on.

“What if I don’t—” Daniel lifted his head, just high enough for his eyes to rise above his arm, a wet sheen across the delicate surfaces. “What if I don’t want to experience it?”

And Clockwork, for all that they’d planned and pondered and predicted, had hardly entertained the thought that Daniel might get rid of his hurts himself, at the expense of his existence.

It was an oversight, one that may have cost them their grandson had he not spoken until now.

Or maybe it was solely their selfishness, for avoiding using their powers so thoroughly. Wanting to cherish each moment they spent with the boy.

They must’ve waited too long to answer, Daniel had sat up higher in his chair, put on a facsimile of a smile, and waved a hand. His shoulders tensed as he became a bit more opaque. “Sorry to get all emo on you. I’m fine, just… tired trying to adjust to some new changes at home.”

It stung a bit, the choice of words, but nonetheless they said, “Of course. It’s no trouble.” Wishing for all the Realms that they could make sure he never returned to that place.

They returned to the stove, pulling the chicken from the pot with a pair of tongs and filling it with chopped onions and garlic.

“So, were there any new games at the arcade?”

There were, of course they knew there were, but Daniel humoured them anyway, talking about swift blue hedgehogs with two-tailed yellow foxes and a gluttonous being seeking pellets and avoiding ghosts at all costs.

Throughout the evening, Daniel struggled to stay opaque, always a little transparent no matter how much he tensed.

The warm meal in his belly had clearly helped, but by the time Clockwork had laid him down into bed, they could still see the palm of their glove through his chest.

---

Clockwork took to their project with absolute precision. They carefully peeled away the flimsy canvas, gently pinning down the edges and simply stared, in awe of all the unfamiliar pieces native to the human body.

They cracked open the delicate green-white shell and watched the strange balls of… flesh? Yes, flesh. They watched as each little inefficient process was carried out, paying no mind to the red-green liquid trickling down the pale skin. They would need to clean the workshop when they were done anyway.

They shifted aside a sac of air, one that inflated and deflated in an even rhythm with an identical sac nestled against the left side of the shell. They used their thumb to pull it away from a smaller sac, this one in a much less symmetrical shape and directly opposite the boy’s frigid ice core. Curiously, however, the small sac was warm.

They hovered their other hand over the open bundle of tools placed on a side table. They hummed to themself as they dragged their hand back and forth. Daniel’s wires were different from their own, and much more different than anything they’d worked on before. They rubbed a rather large wire, feeling that same red-green liquid from earlier warm them up through the material of their glove. They felt how easily it gave to pressure, squishing it slightly between two digits.

Perhaps, a case knife? A medium-duty seemed a bit much for a soft, hollow wire. Yes, that should work then. That should work nicely.

It was a simple matter of slicing through the casing, though the abundance of red-green liquid spilling out was quite bothersome. It just kept pouring and pouring, obscuring Clockwork’s vision of the other wires. They huffed, amused. Where did Daniel manage to keep it all?

They grabbed a small cloth, patting around the area. The liquid welled up again and they sighed. They may need to speed this up if the boy kept deciding to unconsciously tease them like this.

Clockwork smoothly cut through the smaller wires connecting the sac to the other balls of flesh, feeling the squishy, wet thing in their hand pulse and pulse and pulse as they held it down to keep from shifting too much.

Once the last wire was cut, there was a faint exhale from Daniel’s lips, but when they looked up his face was still set in peaceful sleep. Daniel’s face was a bit paler than before and the identical air sacs were moving at a slower tempo.

Clockwork peeled off a glove and set the back of their hand on his head. He didn’t feel any warmer and they had seen Daniel become ill during the following night—and how strange that discovery had been, that his hurts were sometimes inflicted by his own body in some misguided form of protection; that his very core, his core made of and with the power over ice would allow his body to reach such high temperatures. It was as amusing as it was baffling.

Had his illness come early? Maybe it was the dry scent of metal filling the workshop? Or perhaps the tang of copper that had found its way under their tongue—the one Clockwork forgot to put away after dinner—was significantly affecting the boy. As he was now, Daniel might be more susceptible to the taste and find it unpleasant.

Or, Clockwork thought, perhaps the boy was still battling his hurts even in his dreams. The thought brought a wave of sadness with it and, despite the risk of losing their place, Clockwork set a hand on each cheek, rubbing them softly. Some of the liquid staining their glove smudged against Daniel’s pale cheek.

They’d hoped after his fairly uneventful day, the boy would be able to avoid nightmares tonight, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. A few more moments passed like that, Clockwork simultaneously wanting to give comfort and being enamoured with the flimsy membrane Daniel called skin.

They should continue. The longer they delay, the more Daniel would continue to endure his hurts.

So, with a final indulgence, Clockwork leaned down and pressed a kiss to Daniel’s forehead.

---

One more day, they thought as they gave Daniel their goodbye in the morning. One more day before they could set him free.

There would be a few miscommunications in the day ahead. The heart in the boy’s chest would likely suffer more hurts, but, comparatively, it would be an easy day. Nothing worthy of worrying thoughts plaguing his mind, hopefully.

It was hard, letting the boy go after their decision.

It was hard, but it was necessary.

Daniel would return, as he always did, and this time Clockwork would be prepared to see things through.

They left their lair, dawning a human disguise and entering the Living Realm to search high and low for the perfect tools. They went to as many stores and tradeshows as they needed—time was no object, after all—choosing tools of the finest quality for this realm. Choosing tools only from this realm, the realm of Daniel’s birth, to give significance to Clockwork and a, hopefully, instinctual comfort to their grandson.

When they returned, they wiped down their worktable, set out a clean white blanket and one of the spare pillows from Daniel’s room, and sat themselves down with some tea, awaiting the young call of their name from the entrance.

---

Clockwork pulled the small sac of flesh from the boy’s chest, the piece absolutely covered in that warm liquid and still spilling more. With great care, they set it aside on a clean towel next to a set of tall glass jars. They would keep each of Daniel’s pieces as intact as they could, just in case the boy wanted to keep them as a memento. And if not, well, there was always room in the workshop and they wouldn’t mind a reminder of Daniel’s little oddities.

Daniel made a small sound in the back of his throat, his brows furrowing slightly and his core starting to ice over the nearby flesh sacs. Clockwork frowned, sympathetic to the boy’s suffering. They needed a quicker way of going about this.

Clockwork moulded their shape, splitting the singular pair of hands down the middle into two, then four, then five. Additional fingers grew in mirror to the ones in their gloves, emerging from the palm side of each first knuckle.

Ectoplasmic skin pulled tightly to the false bone and short claws grew from each nail. Perfect for precision work and opening tiny containers.

Clockwork hummed. It wasn’t often they did this, since it wasn’t particularly comfortable, but the more helping parts, the better.

The glass door in their chest swung open on its own, the pendulum pausing mid swing. Instead of folding up, it stretched out, creating new joints with each click until it was long enough to reach Daniel and their tools. The brass bob hollowed itself out until only the edges remained, then came apart to resemble pincers.

No, no. That was certainly not enough.

More pendulums, more hands, they needed more.

The new limbs formed out of their chest, for ease of movement, growing one at a time, with the hands growing bone then skin then claws at a rapid pace.

And, goodness, they needed better senses than just two eyes and ears. Slits in their face appeared—eye sockets—followed by newly grown eyeballs. Human ears were much more noticeably flawed, and though their comfort to Daniel was invaluable, Clockwork needed to hear everything.

Thus, all along their arms up to the elbow as well as every free bit of their torso emerged single-jointed feathered wings, about the size of Daniel’s palm. Each barb and aftershaft more efficiently tuned to listen for any slight vibration in the air, any hint that Daniel’s sounds changed.

They could’ve added more, there was still much of their head they hadn’t used, but—

But they wanted to keep it as it was; Daniel worked hard on their braid and they adored the boy’s desire to take care of them and make them feel loved.

---

“Your hair’s really nice, y’know?” Daniel had said earlier in the night.

“Of course, I grew it myself.” Daniel snickered, though Clockwork didn’t understand why.

“I mean, like, it looks really soft. Probably easy to comb through too.” Daniel hummed, pencil tapping on the kitchen table. “Maybe you could tie it up or something.”

They didn’t see much point to that, considering they could move it at will. Curiously though, they’d learned over time that Daniel’s was only affected by the gravity of whatever area he was in. “I’m not one for ribbons,” they settled on.

“It doesn’t have to be ribbons. You could just use a regular hair tie.” He shoved a hand in his pocket, pulling out something resembling a small black rubber band. “Here.”

They stared at the item. Wondered how they would be able to relinquish control solely to their hands to maneuver the white strands. It wasn’t something they were familiar with. “I don’t believe I could manage to do it myself.” They pressed on Daniel’s curled fingers, pushing his hand back towards him.

“I could do it for you,” he said, a sparkle in his eye. “I’ve done it for Jazz tons of times!”

The boy looked confident, sure in his skill. And how could Clockwork say anything except, “I would love that. Thank you, Daniel.”

He smiled. “Okay, sit down in front of me, with your back between my legs.” Daniel adjusted his chair to face out from the table and Clockwork did as he instructed, curling their tail into a cushion underneath them. He set his hand atop their head. “Do you want me to braid it too? I’m really good at that.”

“I’ve never had my hair braided before,” they said.

“It’ll look good, I promise.” The unwavering determination in his voice piqued their interest.

“Go ahead, then.”

They spent the next… however long it’d been, with Daniel running his fingers through their hair. Playing with it at first, they thought, but then splitting it into sections and doing something with them just out of their view. Every so often, Daniel’s fingers would brush through different spots on the sides of their head, grasping smaller strands and scratching slightly at their scalp.

It was a new sensation for Clockwork, one they hadn’t been expecting to feel, yet wondering how they ever existed before experiencing these small pleasurable actions. Were it not for the restrictions on their powers, they would scour their future selves’ memories for any kind of repeat of this event. To say they ‘loved’ the feeling would be a large understatement.

“Oh,”—Daniel said, surprised—“you really like it that much, huh?”

Clockwork thought they’d hummed a question, but they couldn’t be sure.

Daniel giggled. “You’re purring.” Were they? Clockwork could hardly tell, but they could feel vibrations running through their body and a rumbling sound emanating from somewhere.

It didn’t take long after that for Daniel to finish, much to Clockwork’s dismay. “All done. I don’t have a mirror on me, but you have a bunch.” They conjured up a mirror in front of them.

Their eyes widened. Across their left shoulder sat a long white braid tied at the end with the little black band. It looked… good.

“Thank you, Daniel.”

“Hey, no need for that. I did it ‘cause I love you and I wanted to show it.”

It was amusing really, that Daniel chose tonight of all nights to gift Clockwork this service. They anticipated returning the favour.

Daniel yawned. Perfect timing.

Clockwork floated up, a smile on their face as they scooped up the boy in their arms. “Aww, Grampa, I’ve still got homework!”

“I’m not taking you to your room.” Yet.

Daniel stopped his squirming. “You’re not?”

“I’d like to do something for you, if that’s alright.”

Daniel tilted his head. “So then, where are we going?”

“My workshop.”

---

They pulled open a few of their drawers, using a spare limb to pull out gears and springs and watch hands painted a stark light blue. They’d nearly finished emptying Daniel’s torso, careful not to touch the young core, and occupied jars lined up along the shelves.

It wouldn’t be long now. And were Daniel to ever ask what led them to act, they’d had plenty of time to think through words that didn’t hurt and words that told the truth.

---

At the crossroads between two doors, Clockwork paused. “Daniel?” The boy hummed, fighting off another yawn. “Do you trust me to have your best interests in mind?”

---

With a soft click, they closed Daniel’s new door.

It was simple, really.

They came to a choice—one they’d made many times over.

This time, however, Clockwork made a different choice.

---

“‘Course,” Daniel said, a lopsided smile on his lips and a head laying heavily on Clockwork’s chest. “You’d never hurt me.”

#danny phantom #phic #phic phight 2023 #lost time #phic phight #nemo the writing ho

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wordsinhaled · 8 months

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☔

☔ Is there a fic concept you have that you’d like to just explain and share because you’re not sure you’ll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Ah, yes!!! And I'll tag @sb-essebi here since you also asked this question!

I'll talk about the always angels AU! (Who wants to help me find a better name for it? lmao, but that's what I'm calling it in my head.) I don't know if I'll ever actually write it properly because it feels very Involved and my vision for it would involve it being a bit of an epic length, meanwhile I've never written a thing past like 2k words? But I do really love the idea of it.

So this is an AU where Crowley never fell: he's still an angel in Heaven. Of course, he still asks questions, but maybe he’s at a power level at which his interference can be deniable, or brushed under the rug if needed. Or, if he is higher up, he's considered to be a bit of an odd duck, too enthusiastic, too absorbed in his work, such that his capacity for influence isn't really taken seriously. Besides, he’s so genuine and well-meaning about things that he naturally gets underestimated a lot, which is how he has avoided getting cast out this whole time.

So he’s basically just prancing about being cheerful in Heaven’s offices in the outfit we saw him wear in the show, in all his tan tracksuited, gold nail polished peppiness. (Yes, I love that outfit; no, I will not take arguments. Heaven infiltrator!Crowley is a fashion icon <3) And also, of course, in lovely long flowing robes sometimes because why not, it's Heaven!

He gets to keep up his stars as his main role, and it’s been his favorite thing to do since always, which he tells to anyone in earshot. He’s forever asking if the other angels want to go on little field trips with him to see different star systems or nebulas whenever they need a tuneup, and the other angels are all, “Oh, you know, Crowley and his stars,” like his personal interest in them is weird, or quaint. They humored him at first, and have long since stopped going with him, and the ones of his own rank gossip about how odd it is, a bit, well. Crowley's enthusiasm is undimmed.

Maybe in this AU, Aziraphale has become an archangel by regular promotion - by toeing the line, mostly, but he harbors, secretly (very secretly) his own ideas about how the Supreme Archangel is running things, how Heaven could be made better. A large part of him still believes in the system, though. He figures, if he follows all the norms, goes through the proper channels he’ll make a true change one day. Especially in his new position, which he treats with great sanctity.

But he does have his foibles.

He's been to earth for several stints, and during those stints, however brief each one, he discovered things he likes. His Heavenly office is not blank and white and bare like the others; it has actual—gasp!—material objects in it that he's brought back from his travels on Earth. A plush Persian rug. A heavy oaken desk, complete with Tiffany reading lamp and writing inks and pens. An overstuffed armchair with a cream tartan blanket draped across the back (Heaven does get quite cold, after all). A dancing lady orchid in a hand-turned, hand-painted ceramic planter. A little rack of select Earth wines and aperitifs. An earthenware bowl of fruit. And... books. Books he tries to but occasionally fails to keep contained to one corner, and often rotates out for new ones, and categorically refuses to give up.

(The other archangels try not to go in there much. It gives them the creeps.)

Anyway, long story short, this archangel Aziraphale is... well, Aziraphale, more or less the one we know and love, but maybe with more of a ramrod-straight back, if you will. (And maybe some facial hair. He can have a beard for a bit, maybe, as a treat. But I'm still not sure on that bit.)

The other thing about the archangel Aziraphale is he actually talks to the other angels who are of lower rank than he is. He doesn't treat them the way the rest of the archangels do, at a remove. He wants to know about their goings-on, because he was one of them, once, and he remembers what it was like, and looks on them with a great deal of empathy.

So naturally this puts him into contact with Crowley! Who has absolutely no compunction about inviting Aziraphale (his superior! Crowley, you daredevil!) on a jaunt to visit another little corner of the stars that needs maintenance.

"Oh! A... field trip, you say? To the... the Cosmic Cliffs, you called them? Well! That does sound exciting! I don't suppose I've ever considered it."

"You don't want to," says Crowley, visibly deflating.

"No, no, no! That's not it at all! They sound positively lovely, I'm sure. It's only that I have ever so much work, you see, and so little time in which to do it all."

"The Carina Nebula's worth taking a break for," Crowley says, a little bit of pride edging into his voice. He puts on his best encouraging grin. "C'monnn, Archangel. No one has to know. I certainly won't tell anyone you skived off a day's work to see some stars - oh, they all laugh at me as it is. It'll be our little secret." (If an angel had spoken to, say, Gabriel this way - with such a level of presumption, such a level of intimacy! - they would have been demoted instantly.)

Instead, Aziraphale agrees.

"I say," he breathes, hovering side by side with Crowley and looking at the glittering, twinkling splendor of blue-gold-amber scattered across the vastness of space before them. "I say, this is really quite something you've got here. You've outdone yourself with this one, I imagine."

"Oh, thank you," Crowley says, positively beaming, feathers all aflutter, brown eyes bright with feeling.

"It's beautiful," Aziraphale says.

"It is, isn't it," Crowley agrees. But here's an important little detail: he's not looking at his own creation as he speaks. He's watching Aziraphale watch the stars. It's totally untoward. Totally not befitting their difference in status, or their relative lack of acquaintance. And he totally doesn't care. "Gorgeous," Crowley adds. It just slips out, almost an afterthought, almost under his breath.

And Aziraphale turns to him then, and catches him staring openly.

And there's the start of that.

Also would feature in this AU:

Archangel Aziraphale is the one to introduce Crowley to Earthly things! I think that is so, so fun, and I want to see angel Crowley discover his first bite of dark chocolate truffles or his first sip of Turkish coffee or his first time feeling silk, for example, yes

Enough tension to cut with a knife, we love to see it

Open-secret rendezvous in various corners of space to talk about philosophy!

Crowley dedicating specific stars to Aziraphale (Alpha Centauri!)

The other angels looking on in tacit disapproval but not quite being able to do much about it (...yet)

Archangel Aziraphale and angel Crowley take a vacation business trip to Earth! Includes Aziraphale showing Crowley some of his favorite places; them figuring out what sort of clothes they want to wear on Earth (and pining after each other in them, obviously); Crowley's first time riding in a car and subsequently falling in love with high-speed driving; charming B&Bs with only one bed (!); romantic stargazing from Earth; entirely too much faffing about and not enough Heavenly work getting done at all whatsoever because they're too busy realizing they're in love

A faction of angels try to depose Aziraphale because they think he's gone soft (and, well, he has... soft for a certain starmaking angel) and Aziraphale has to go on the lam on Earth to save himself. Cue romantic scene in which he asks Crowley to come with him and of course Crowley agrees

They go to Earth together and perform a combined miracle to hide themselves from Heaven. Maybe Aziraphale still operates his bookshop, but angel Crowley acquires a plant shop and works part time at a planetarium!

I could go on but this has gotten pretty long!

Thanks for letting me ramble about this AU which I love so much <333

#long post #good omens #good omens 2 #sort of #ineffable husbands

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sideblogformindtrash · 8 months

Text

Orfeu and Haru Ver. II.

Cw: Mentioned noncon (not too explicit this time); Mentioned starvation/food insecurity; pet whump; dehumanization; humiliation;

The pet wakes up in that man’s arms. Orfeu, if he recalled.

He has his hands resting over the pet’s hips, hands that look like they belong to a monster, ink black until almost the elbows, nails thick and curled like that of a beast. Pet still surprised those claws got inside him and somehow hurt less than Master’s soft fingers.

Turning to the side he sees Farlan’s up and getting dressed to go to his college lectures. He figures the guest is the only reason why he wasn’t kicked from the bed today as soon as Master woke up. He tries to get up by himself rather than wait for the man to wake and push him down…

“Stay”

He freezes staring dumbly at his Master. He rolls his eyes, his patience always too short for the pet.

“Stay. You’re allowed. At least while he’s cuddling you”

He lets the air escape his lungs, sinking back into the sheets and quite relieved. Still, he remains weary as he watches Master moving around the room, combing his hair and putting it on a ponytail, dressing up in his tailored suit and applying so much cologne the Pet has to bury his face on the pillows to hold back the sneezes.

Master always smells so good. His favorite cologne has tops of lemon and jasmine and a soft wooden background. It denounces his arrival before the master enters a room, and lingers after he leaves. It has also impregnated the sheets, the pillows and even the pet itself, sticking on his skin and leaving a trace where he was held.

After he’s done playing or hurting him, Master takes him to the bathroom and places him on a tub which he lets fill with mercifully warm water. He washes his back with milky soap and his hair with strawberry shampoo. Sometimes, he baths by himself too, making extra sure he’s clean and groomed to his Master’s liking.

Still, the Master's smell is stronger.

It stays, no matter how much he scrubs his skin.

Which is why he’s oddly glad about how much the guest just… stinks.

He stinks of sour cigarette smoke, candle wax and forest mold, sweat and booze and sex and asphalt. He stinks and for once, it overpowers Master’s lemony scent.

Once Master finally leaves, he sinks his head on the man’s chest and inhales, trying to pick apart all that makes his smell, nuzzling a little so his stubble beard scratches the pet's face.

Unfortunately that wakes him up, and they lock eyes, pearly blue in toxic green ones. He feels himself grow cold, afraid he’ll be hurt for waking him, but the man simply smiles, a row of creep teeth. He thought those were fascinating, but wondered how much it hurt to make them look like this.

“Good morning” he says, and Pet cringes at his breath. And Orfeu notices “Oh, guess I need to brush my teeth. And a shower-”

Two mistakes. It’s barely eight in the morning, and he’s made two mistakes with Master’s new guest. He’s shaking…

“I-I- nhh s-s-sorry, pet… dirty, pet is, is, not-”

“Shhh” he picks up one of Pet’s white locks, playing with it between his distorted fingers “Not a big deal. I have an idea. Why don’t you go get us some breakfast, while I wash, hm?”

He nods, nearly jumping out the bed.

He doesn’t bother getting dressed. He knows it bothers some of the workers of the mansion but… it’s nothing that they haven’t seen before. And he’s been through… so much worse, he hardly feels humiliated by the nakedness anymore.

“Good morn- Oh fuck. Please wear clothes” Ms. Lenora complains, as the pet runs into the kitchen.

He blushes a little and waves at the housekeeper apologetically, one of the few employees that work at the house. It’s a small task force and there’s always a lot of work to be done. The Pet has to help sometimes, and while most of them are either bothered or even hostile towards the pet, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“It 's alright. Go see if you can find something in the laundry room, I’ll prepare your food” She says, just smiling at him.

"G-guest" Speaking is getting harder and harder these days.

"Guest?” She frowns. Farlan must have forgotten to warn her, but she knows Pet wouldn't lie about "Fm. Guess you’ll need something better than oatmeal then. Now, please, get dressed-"

He nods, going past the kitchen and into the laundry room. People there glare, disgusted by his presence, his nakedness, the violence marked on his body. He quickly snatches a shirt from the clean pile. It’s Master’s, but he won’t mind.

He smiles when he gets back into the kitchen, seeing Lenora preparing a tray with avocado toast and eggs, cuts of meat and picked fruits. He hesitates for a second, then approaches to help her, which earns him a soft pat on the head.

“Good boy”

Something deep inside him says he should feel humiliated by this sort of affection. But it’s all that exists in his world, and oh, he’d take humiliating affection over pain any day.

Finally he carries the tray back upstairs, hoping this man Orfeu allows him to eat. He’s not good at starving. Farlan is not the most merciful of Master’s, but he’s generous about food, only denying it when it annoys him enough for a hard punishment.

But sometimes he’s left under the care of Master’s father, Gerard, the lord of the house, who is very prone to making him starve. ‘A petite little songbird’, the man says, feeding him nothing but what he can lick off of his fingers.

He remembers them fighting the first time his Master traveled and left the pet under Gerard’s care. After a week, when he came back, the pet went to welcome him and ended up passing out from starvation.

“Oh, that’s fancy” Orfeu says, coming out of the bathroom and throwing himself on the bed, a towel wrapped around his hair.

“Come on-” he taps the bed by his side, coaching the pet to sit by his side. He does it hesitantly. Master Farlan would be angry if they dropped food on the sheets… but he’d be even angrier if the pet denied a guest's request, so he obeys.

…He immediately notices the smell. He must’ve stolen the cologne because he smells exactly like Farlan now. He swallows, wondering why this makes him feel grief.

“Did you make the food?”

“H-h-helped” the pet mumbles, a bit thrown aback by how casually he talks. He must be used to pets. Maybe even have some of his own.

“Own, it's very good”

The pet just nods, hands crossed politely over his lap, trying not to stare at the food.

"You aren't much of a talker, are you?"

He flinches hard. It used to be so easy.

"I-I can, ifsir wamt. Msorry Sorry" he whispers, feeling the words roll and mix, his tongue too heavy to properly form them. Why speak, if no one wants to hear? "Hard. Msorry"

"It's alright, love"

He realizes the pet staring and chooses to be merciful, cutting a piece of toast and taking the piece to his lips. He parts them obediently and chews the food slowly, enjoying the taste. It also makes for a good excuse to stay quite.

“You don't have to. I'd like you to, if you can. But I don't mind if you don't want to"

It sounds like a mockery, if not for his genuine expression.

Pets don't have wants, or so they say. Of course it's a lie. The pet wants a lot of things. It's just that a pet's wants are meaningless.

He just obediently opens his mouth again, letting the man place a piece of fruit inside. So it seems that just like Gerard, this man likes to hand feed pets, enjoying the utter submission of the act. He does his best not to resent that, at least he's being generous with the portions, letting him chew a cut of strawberry.

"He said you don't have a name…" the pet struggles not to flinch with the way Orfeu toys with the knife.

Thankfully, he simply cuts a piece of the meat for himself.

"I kinda wanna give you one"

…Pet stares. This screams of a trap. He recalls him telling that to the master last night, and Farlan being very clear that the pet does not deserve one.

"Sir'angry" he replies, the best he can, in between the little bits of food he's being fed.

"Farlan? Nah, I'll handle him" Orfeu promises, seeming all too confident. Well, it's true the Master seems to forgive a little more disrespect from him than from most others… but this is a big thing.

"It's unfair to not be named. I'll think of something. You can help too" he offers.

The pet shakes his head shyly. It's not for him to decide. But… he kinda hopes this strange man can indeed get him named. He'd like to be someone.

tag: @whump-blog

#whump #whump writing #pet whump #bbu adjacent #haru is bae #whorfeu #orfeu and haru II

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toonjuiced · 1 year

Text

caregiver captain 3 🍏 [ x x x ] (REQUEST for @babyzapfish!)

adores you. flat out, that’s it. isn’t very verbal about that fact but shows it through their actions and a few choice physical gestures (pat on the head or shoulder, the occasional hug)

anything you could ask for, they’ll do their best to provide

you spend a lot of time sitting at the kitchen counter or following them around with your hand on their sleeve while they cook for you

honestly you spend a lot of time in general following them around attached to their clothes

is admittedly not the best at cooking, at least when you first start regressing around them, but they put a bunch of time into learning new recipes and trying out things they think you’ll enjoy

tries to set rules but is a complete pushover. if you say please more than a few times and pout a bit you can get away with anything

this especially applies to bedtime and dessert

if and when they finally manage to get you into bed, they’ll talk to you until you fall asleep. they’re on the quieter side, so hearing their voice for a long period of time always calms you down and makes you feel safe

helps you do little tasks, like settling into bed and getting up in the morning. brushing your teeth, getting you dressed, tucking you in

three likes keeping an eye on you as much as possible and will bring you to (safe!!) missions when they can, because they know you have fun getting outside

you get to spend a lot of time by proxy with callie and marie

three tries to keep them from giving you too much candy but they’re sort of like your rich, cool aunts

the squid sisters teach you their catchphrase and three finds it so cute to see you mimicking them

they’ll give you little things to do out in the field, like collecting a certain amount of small shells or inking a little bit of the turf around (they always keep a kid-safe splattershot jr. on hand for you to play with)

never lets you out of their line of sight

speaking of their sight: they have eyes like a hawk, and even faster instincts. if you’re about to trip, they 100% will catch you

good at keeping you out of harm’s way and somehow injuring themselves in the process. stubs their toe trying to keep you from falling over the coffee table, etc. little things like that

lets you rest in their captain’s hat or on their lap in squid or octopus form.. it’s very sweet

treats you often to little outings and always has sweets on hand to give to you

they notice once when you’re out in the field together that you love playing with the baby zapfish plushies, so they ask cuttlefish to make one especially for you

i mean. he can’t say no to the captain of the new squidbeak splatoon. (i think after the events of rotm you’d be a little scared of cuttlefish when small, but this helps you realize he’s not scary. you also realize he is the ideal size for playing with.)

this leads to you spending time chasing him around while he tries to get his grandkids or three (unsuccessfully) to help distract you so he can catch his breath

marie thinks this is absolutely hilarious. callie and three mostly find it cute. no one does anything to help him

lets you nap on the couch at the tentakeel outpost (marie helps especially to keep an eye on you there since she’s extra familiar with the location)

#splatoon agere #splatoon age regression #sfw agere #sfw #age regression #sfw age regression #caregiver headcanons #captain 3 #wrote these for my partner heehee #fandom agere #fandom age regression #this was fun please send me more requests i really enjoy writing these for people #rj writes

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cheapsweets · 5 months

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The resolute Ilyecham

My response to this weeks Bestiary Posting challenge, from The Maniculum!

I've been vaguelly considering how to tackle this one all week (and trying to avoid seeing others' interpretations as much as possible). Again, we have a lot of behaviours, but nothing in terms of a physical description... Did the author just thing 'everyone knows what birds look like', was this just a bird that the reader was expected to be familiar with, or were they all like 'I'm not describing yet another bird... :p'?

It's a pen and ink drawing (dark sepia ink, and a sailor fude nib) over a pencil sketch; the fude nib is interesting as it's meant to give the impression of using a brush - the nib is bent to allow transition from thin to thick lines - I've got a lot of practice to go to get that transition right though (I'm tempted to try an actual brush pen for next week's challenge...)!

This time, I actually used some references! Well, I briefly glanced at some, anyhow... I feel like it has made a difference, particularly in terms of the anatomy (though there are several things I'd go back and change if I was doing this over), but I still need to work a bit more on consistency (and maybe not tackling any too-awkward perpectives...!). I had a lot of fun with this one :)

Reasoning below the cut...

"The Ilyecham is a bird armed rather with spirit than with claws, having great courage in its small body. [Etymology redacted]. For it greedily seizes other birds. [Etymology redacted.]" - So, carnivorous bird, emphasis away from it's claws... I had to double check this, but falcons kill prey with their beak (a sharply projecting 'tomial tooth' on their upper beak), whereas hawks use their claws. I tried to show this, but it's such a small details it might not be obvious. Did you know that falcons are more closely related to passerines (perching birds, like sparrows) than they are to hawks/eagles? I always find that absolutely mind-blowing :)

"It is said that the Ilyecham is lacking in parental care towards its young, for when it sees that they are able and trying to fly, it does not feed them but beats them with its wings, throws them from the nest and forces them from a tender age to catch prey for themselves lest, when they are fully grown, they should become lazy." - Hey, chalk up another one to that old adage 'birds are jerks'... I'm starting to think that bestiary authors were not the biggest birb fans... In the top right of the picture, we have a mama ilyecham pushing the baby out of the nest with her wing. Time to find your own way in the world, baby bird! I tried to distinguish the younger bird's plumage with a different pattern (spotted/dotted); the adult plumage was inspired by goshawks (I know, hawk vs falcon), more because it would show up as distinctive in black and white than any other reason.

As an aside, I really struggled with how to draw a slightly stylised bird nest!

"It takes care lest in their childhood they grow idle, or are given up to pleasure, or grow weak from inactivity, or learn to expect food rather than to seek it for themselves, or abandon their natural vigour. Ilyechams stop bothering to feed their young in order to make them bold enough to seize food for themselves." - Hang on, this is going to be some kind of inspirational virtuous animal thing, isn't is... :p I can imagine some medieval scribe writing 'and so, the ilyecham represents the cardinal virtue of fortitude' or something...

"It is the custom of Ilyechams in the wild to spread their wings when the south wind blows, so that their limbs are warmed by the wind to release their old feathers. When there is no wind, they create a breeze by spreading their wings to face the rays of the sun and beating them; and thus, as the pores of their body open, either their old plumage falls out, or new feathers grow in." - In the top left, we have an ilyecham spreading its wings, facing towards the sun, and doing just that! The feathers blowing away were fun to draw!

#Ilyecham #maniculum bestiaryposting #bestiaryposting #my art #birds are jerks

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brutal-nemesis · 1 year

Text

Castys Ref Sheet

As a bitch who can’t draw more than stick figures and has to rely on picrews to make my characters, I thought it would be nice to have a place that will at least tell people exactly what my characters look like. Really I just want to talk about Castys because I have A Disease but whatever. I’ll do ones for my other characters at some point, and feel free to use the template if you want idc

Race: Fantasy Latino, specifically Venezuelan, I think

Height: 5′8″ (173 cm) and a little sensitive about it

Skin: Brown. I’ll have more about the exact shade down with the picrew shit. Since he’s stuck being 19 forever, he’s always dealing with acne and usually has at least a few pimples at any given time. He never moisturizes or anything, so the skin on his hands and feet is calloused, rough, and often dry.

Eyes: Dark brown, almost black. No flecks of gold or anything, just very plain. They’re usually half-lidded unless he’s really excited about something (or in a lot of pain)

Hair: Dark brown and thick in texture. It has a bit of curl to it and will stick up on its own if he doesn’t pat it down, which he doesn’t always do. He likes it pretty short, partially covering his ears and a little down the back of his neck, and if it gets too long he’ll become very annoyed with it. It always looks sort of messy, partially because it’s Like That and partially because he prefers it look like that. His arms and legs are hairy, and he has a tiny bit of hair on his chest as well.

Birthmarks/Scars: No birthmarks, but his body is littered with various smaller scars. He has 3 larger ones that are of note: a gash on his right cheek, a gnarled slash across his stomach, and the remnants of a clean stab wound directly above his heart. He stopped getting new scars after he received those. The scar on his cheek makes it so he can’t smile all the way on the right, so his grins always end up lopsided. They pulse with pain from time to time, his stomach being the worst, but if he’s currently dealing with some other torture as I am inclined to show him, he doesn’t pay it much mind.

Clothes: I don’t have anything too specific here, but he generally prefers comfortable clothes that are durable and easy to move around in. He prefers to wear sturdy boots since he does a lot of walking and whatnot, and when he’s pirating he wears a long brown or red coat. He often wears a red bandana on his head. Unless it’s particularly cold, he sleeps in his underwear.

Hygiene: No. Well, actually, he at least takes care of his teeth, if only because if he doesn’t it fucking hurts. He runs his hands through his hair often enough that it doesn’t get matted, but he never explicitly brushes it (and if he’s being forced to grow his hair out by a whumper, he tries his best to make it a tangled mess so they’ll want to cut it off (so you’d just need to brush it for him ❤️)). He doesn’t bathe unless someone tells him to or he’s covered in blood, and normally smells like Sweaty Guy with a dash of dirt or saltwater depending on where he is. In modern AUs he at least showers a socially acceptable amount so there’s that.

Piercings/Tattoos: Only thing is he sometimes has a black stud in his right earlobe. It has a magnet attached to it, which he can use to retrieve a needle from under his skin to pick locks with (don’t @ me about how realistic this is I just think it’s fun ty💕). He could have tattoos if he wanted, since dying wouldn’t get rid of the ink under his skin, but that’s just not his vibe.

Picrews for some visuals (1) (2)

I think this is the best one in a lot of ways. The hair style and color are perfect, and the skintone is right, too. The only problem is the scar is on the wrong side :( it’s on his right, so it’s on the left if you’re looking at him

Very good as far as clothes. That is the exact way he wears his bandana and those are great boots for him. The general vibes of the other clothes are good too. And the face scar is correct!

Mmkay that’s all I can think of so conga rats if you made it this far 🐀🐀🐀🐀🐀

#castys #excuse to just ramble about castys and all the things no one ever wanted to know about him #my stupid man #always be having Thoughts about him #i just now realized i never said anything about his nose but i have no clue man #whatever latino noses look like he has that #now you can have a perfect mental image of...this thing #idk i just wanted to make this so here you go enjoy or something

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rui-drawsbox · 1 year

Note

Hi, it’s me again *blows up several buildings and kills eighty seven bystanders with my sheer aura*

I figured out more stuff for my gay little episode outlines, so anyways, here’s the outline for episode two of my horrifying little plot idea for your Magical Knight Arashi au:

K, so after the bullshit Arashi dealt with she deserves a break, too bad, anyways the sword turned into an aesthetic looking makeup brush when she detransformed. Me thinks, she deserves a transformation item.

Anyways she a student so it’s education time, and by that I mean school + drama

she and Mika talk again, it’s fairly normal, he’s still a weird little man pretending to be a tsundere but he does ask if she liked the bear charm he gave her, she fucking loves it btw cuz it’s adorable. (Little standoffish man ain’t used to interacting with normal people, living with Shu does that to you ig 😔)

Mika, being the self sabotaging king that he is, asks if she has anyone better to talk to. Arashi is of course like “no” but with a tone that clearly means to indicate “are you ok?” But Mika doesn’t get that. So Arashi talk about her friends to him. Izumi, Leo, and Ritsu <3 and then she invites him to eat lunch with them.

Mika declines :( (for good reason but we’ll get to that eventually, he does kind of want to go but he knows he can’t, and it’s a Shu thing btw, Shu wants him to blend in and making friends is kind of part of that, it’s just, another thing)

anyways we cut to the class where Leo is, Shu is introduced via a goofy yah funny way, like he’s the comedically stuck up classmate.

he and Izumi are fighting

Leo is trying to break up the verbal smack down but like, it ain’t really working, eventually once these bitches tire each other out or a teacher intervenes they’ll stop.

Leo tries to calm down and comfort Izumi with a hand on his shoulder but Izumi brushes him off

Leo also tries to invite him to lunch again and he tells Izumi that he, Arashi, and Ritsu all miss him at lunch

Izumi declines and says that he has to go before storming out of that classroom as soon as the bell rings

Leo complains to Arashi and Ritsu about Izumi at lunch.

After Leo is done venting his frustrations Arashi brings up the weird shit from the night before

She tries to show the photo she got of the mannequins? No, weird living dolls. On her phone, but all the photos are blurred out.

Ritsu is like “So, what are we supposed to see here?”

Arashi explains and shows them the gem mark + the makeup brush + the 87 photos she got of her new cat.

Leo and Ritsu believe her cuz like, they’re besties, and also, it’s Leo and Ritsu, they’ve dealt with weirder, Aliens + Rei Sakuma

anyways the besties decide that A. Arashi needs to do something fun to get her mind off things + B. They want to do something for Izumi cuz he’s been super stressed recently

So they go out together to look for something to buy him. Girlboss mall trip <<33

After browsing through a few shops they pick out a couple things for him, a nice shirt and some ink for that pretty glass pen he likes to use. (Leo picked out the second one)

They go to a little cafe with those cute colorful drinks in the mall for a snack. This is the usual hang out spot for a lot of the younger students, like the first years, especially if they like sweets.

Ritsu notices something is up.

there are gold strings creeping along the floor, and they seem to be going toward Arashi’s bag

Ritsu grabs her bag and stand from his chair.

Arashi and Leo are of course like “??????”

but they go along with what he’s doing, the strings start to follow him so he gets up and goes lmao, the three of them leave the table and their drinks behind. (At this establishment you pay at the counter so they’ve already paid for the drinks)

These bitches actually get chased by the strings until they end up in a deserted place (the fucking back alley outside the mall where people usually load stuff from trucks)

Arashi grabs the makeup brush out of her bag so she can transform to do something about the strings, maybe cut them?? She doesn’t really know

So the strings form these circles on the ground right? Cool. They open up little portals and the dolls materialize out of the strings (it kind of looks like they’ve been woven together like a tapestry)

Arashi is trying to transform but she cant figure out how to do it. So Leo starts beating the fuck out of the dolls like the feral street cat that he is.

he starts getting his ass kicked and when he’s about to get slammed into a wall Arashi figures it out and transforms

she deals with the dolls pretty easily and they unravel back into little piles of string

anyways things go on, these three besties go back to the house to play with the cat and also patch up Leo’s scratches.

also Tsukasa saw the whole fight, oops.

yeah he saw them leave the cafe in a panic and decided to follow just incase the kids from his school were in trouble and he legit saw the entire thing. Have fun dealing with this Arashi.

I’m having a lot of fun with this Lmao. I hope you enjoyed this <<33

thank you for the wonderful ideas Rui. I have so much more that I want to write about this Lmao. I’ll be back when I have time and another outline that I want to share <<33

*gets out of a timetravel machine* hello, misano from almost a week ago :)

i would drawn all of this before but 1. i had no idea how and 2. last week i was in my house only to sleep haha /sobs

now going to the central theme!

early series Mika got the same social skills as a 11 years old introverted otaku obsessed with yuno gasai frfr

Shu being unbearable for Izumi is so fking funny to me for no reason. I've always felt like when these two meet they would pull each other's hair idkwhy JDFAS

Izumi is so done with that school that he can't not-be an asshole :)

also i've been acting like i know how tf Arashi's cat looks like but i can't denie it anymorE i think is this cat from that card cuz is the only one i can find

I like to think that some moment out screen she went to the closest pet store and just bought half of the store for her new kitty

thanks to Ritsu for noticing those strings or our series would end up a lot earlier than planned 👏👏

also while they run away from the strings you can't tell they didn't hit at least ONE kid like

Ritsu: *hits a kid with the bag*

Leo: holy shi-

Arashi: SORRY CHILD SORRY MA'AM

also i fully want to think that Tsukasa followed them expecting something surreal, but like drugs or them just doing a joke video surreal, not *now i suppose that i live in a magic world where people can transform and bring out a sword out of nowhere in seconds, and also there's fucking living dolls* surreal

anywys, amazing work as always my dude c:! I can't wait for the next chapter!! <-already read it 5 days ag

ME DESAPAREZCO *throws a smoke bomb**trips and falls*

#i dont have a lot to add today haha #im mentally dead #actually this whole blog was a joke and im just an AI trcking everyone #rui draw smth #ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars fanart #arashi narukami #(omg magical girl arashi)#mika kagehira #leo tsukinaga #ritsu sakuma #izumi sena #tsukasa suou #shu itsuki

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imaginativeavengers · 2 years

Text

The Missing Piece: Part Eight

Description: Living on your own in Brooklyn isn’t an easy thing. Your work life is awful and your ex-boyfriend is a complete mess. When you get caught in the sights of two of the most dangerous men in New York life doesn’t get any easier, but it certainly does get more interesting.

Summary: You’re surprised when you recieve an unexpected visit from a Detective. Bucky and Steve are frustrated as they feel you start to feel you pull away. Your worklife begins to feel like it is turning around.

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: Talk of toxic work environment, talk of a toxic previous relationship, talk poly relationship, talk of disappreance, work anxiety and pressure, slow build, slow burn, mafia AU, mob boss Bucky, mob boss Steve, under 18s dni

Masterlist

Part Seven || Part Nine >>

It would’ve been nice to say that work calmed down and that you got a little of your life back… Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Rupert needed you in the office every waking minute to be dealing with some mundane problem. Oh no, the printer was busted; come fix it. The network is far too slow. You need to reprint these chapters because the pages are crumpled. Word this email correctly. Call these people. Go get him lunch. Do this. Do that.

It was exhausting and bordering on humiliating, considering some of the tasks he asked you to do. It wasn’t like you weren’t looking for jobs, all whilst dealing with this horror. Timothy Lewinski hadn’t contacted you and no other options had even made themselves available.

Not to mention that your social life had utterly plummeted. The only human contact you had recently was the delivery guy when you’d order late-night meals. The notifications on your phone were mounting up all from the likes of Wanda, Bucky and Steve. It left you feeling guilty that you weren’t getting back to them, but it just felt like you didn’t have a spare moment in your day to get back to them.

It had been another long day at the office. Today had been terrible; the printer had broken again, spitting out glugs of ink that you had tried to stop futilely with your hands. It had left you with splotchy patches of ink staining your hands and the simple blouse you’d decided to wear.

The thought of your apartment was pleasant, and the idea of dipping into the bath and then wrapping yourself in a blanket gave you a lot of peace. Digging your hands into your purse, you approached your apartment building before coming to a halt as you noticed a burly form perched on your stoop. “Steve?” Your voice was quaint, clearly surprised to see him occupying the space.

“Hey…” Hastily he tucked his phone away and stood up, brushing down his jeans. “Hey, uh… I hate showing up unexpected, but…” He shook his head. “I was getting really worried about you.” There was such an honest vulnerability in his tone that it made a ball of guilt form in your throat. “Just wanted to see you so that I could make sure that you were safe.” His eyes cast down your frame, truly appreciating every inch of your exhausted body and gazing into your eyes again.

Swallowing down that ball of guilt, you told Steve. “I’m sorry…” Your voice shook unexpectedly. “I’m sorry if you think I’ve been avoiding you. I haven’t.” Then holding up your ink ridden hands, you continued. “Work has been…” Then your voice broke away and your eyes welled up, unsure where this build-up of emotion had come from. “Oh, honey…” He whispered, darting across and tugging you into a deep hug.

It was that hug that finally sent you over the edge. These tears trailed down your cheeks and seeped into his coat as you held yourself tight against his taut frame. “Honey… Baby…” He soothed you, one hand supporting the back of your head whilst his other hand stroked your back in slow circles. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He told you calmly, unsure what he was really consoling you about but knowing that you needed to hear those words.

“Let it out, bunny. It’s okay.” He whispered, pecking the top of your head a few times as he rubbed the back of your neck soothingly. “Baby, can we get you inside your apartment?” He asked after a few moments, tugging back away from you just slightly and seeing how you nodded into his shoulder. “Okay… come with me…” He coaxed, slipping you under his arm and leading you up the stairs into your apartment.

Steve took your coat and bag as you entered your apartment, setting them down somewhere before facing you. He dried your tears with his thumbs and smiled so sweetly at you. “Okay, baby. How about a bath?” He wondered for a moment if your apartment had a tub. “Or something like that, hmm? Then a foot rub and you can tell me all about your day if you’re feeling up to it.”

Sweetly you sniffled and nodded at his offer. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead before flitting through your apartment searching for the bathroom. He found the clean little space, nabbing a fresh towel from the display and beginning to draw a soapy escape for you to sink into. He even managed to rustle up a couple candles and light them, placing them around the tub to create a serene space.

As he wandered back to the living space, Steve frowned as he found you tapping on your phone. He slipped the device from your hands and held it over your head, way out of your reach. “I think you’ve had enough of looking at screens for one day. The bath is ready.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead again and placed your phone down on the coffee table. “Hop to it.” He commanded lowly, watching as you scurry off towards the serene space he had created in your apartment.

Listening to the sound of the lock twisting, Steve let out a breathy noise and slipped his phone from his back pocket, tapping on Bucky’s name. “Anything?” His voice came out flustered. “She just got home. She’s really upset, Buck. Looks exhausted.” He explained with concern edging into his tone. “I’m gonna stay for a little while. Need to make sure that she gets some food into her…” He decided lowly.

“You’re a good man, Stevie.” The brunette informed him with a tired chuckle. “I love you. Make sure you take good care of our girl.” He commanded. “I love you and I will,” Steve assured him. Bucky was concerned for you, but he knew that you were well taken care of if Steve was by your side.

After finishing the conversation, Steve began to tidy the apartment lazily, straightening pillows and hanging up a few thrown cardigans and coats. He wondered if maybe you would be hungry. Heading into your small kitchen area, he searched the fridge for any decent food. Steve wondered when the last time was that you went food shopping because it was barren of options.

It seemed like the only option that remained was a hearty grilled cheese, and it would be quick, easy and something that would fill you up. As he was cooking, he listened to the sound of you shuffling around in the bathroom. It was a domestic feeling; it felt good to care for you in this way, giving you comfort and taking care of your needs. It filled him with this sense of purpose.

The lock on the bathroom shifted again and he heard you padding through the apartment. He turned his attention to where you were lingering in the doorway, resting against the wood and giving him a tired little smile. You looked fresh and relaxed standing there, no more tear-stained cheeks. “Was thinking you might be hungry…” He mentioned gesturing to the pan.

“Yeah…” You hummed, moving further into the room and leaning against the counter. “Yeah, I am…” Your eyes were lingering on the ground and Steve frowned before beginning to search the nearby cabinets for a plate. After finding one, he scooped the perfectly cooked grilled cheese onto it, cut it into two triangle pieces, and held it out. “It’s hot. Don’t burn yourself.” He warned with a chuckle.

Nodding, you responded. “Thanks, Steve…” Looked down at the plate and then back up into his eyes. “You wanna share?” You asked and he smirked, wandering towards you and muttered. “Sure, bunny.” Stroking your hair and leading you through to the lounge, tucking you in to his side and taking a slice, bringing it to his mouth to take a bite. “Y’know, you’re a really great chef, Steve.” You informed him through a taste.

“You think so?” He asked gently, watching as you hungrily took another couple of bites. “Mmhmm, everything you’ve cooked for me has been so good…” You announced, chewing down another bite. A proud smile pressed across Steve’s lips as he took another bite of his half and then placed it back down.

A moment of silence passed between you two before Steve finally asked. “Honey, do you wanna tell me what happened earlier?” He felt the way that you tensed from beside him, clearly uncomfortable. “I just wanna be able to help and I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s wrong…” A sigh slipped from your lips. “There’s nothing you can help with, Steve. There is nothing for you to fix. It’s just… It’s just work, you know?” Your eyes cast up at him then. “It’s been extra crazy lately. I feel like my boss is just using my writing as leverage now to work me harder than usual.”

A heavy frown pressed to Steve’s lips whilst he listened to the situation that Rupert was putting you in. Wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders, Steve tugged you into his large frame, holding you there firmly as he placed a tender kiss on your temple. There was this brewing need to want to make Rupert regret ever putting you through this pain and anxiety.

There was a part of Steve that understood that Bucky was correct. If more ‘accidents’ and ‘disappearances’ began to happen to other people around you, then it would be suspicious. The last thing they needed was to have Danvers’ more invested in their situation. This time Steve knew he needed to be more tactful if he would help you.

“Your boss sounds like an asshole.” Steve decided, listening to how you giggled in response to his statement. “Honey, if there is anything I can do-”

Hastily you cut him off. “No, no…” All whilst shaking your head. “No, there isn’t anything that you can do, Steve. This is just something that I need to deal with by myself.” Steve remembered Bucky mentioning just how stubborn you were, and it was clear that you were determined to deal with your own problems. He assumed that primarily this stemmed from living on your own for such a long time and dealing with someone like Oliver.

A quiet hum came from Steve as he relented. “Alright.” He squeezed your arm in an assuring way before adding. “You know, if it ever gets too unbearable, I’m sure that I could find you a job in my office.” He watched that flicker of worry etches across your face at the insinuation of working alongside him and Bucky. It was clearly a fear that they would find out that you had been going on with both. It filled Steve with this incredible sense of guilt that they were both still lying to you. “Or we could just flee the country instead.” This suggestion came out as a joke and instantly, you began to giggle, washing all those fears away.

“Now, that does sound like a good idea.” You giggled, settling a little further into his body. “Maybe we could travel Europe – I’ve always wanted to do something like that…” You admitted as Steve smirked and pecked your temple again. “Just says the words and I’ll make it happen…” A tender giggle pulled from your throat, it was just some foolish dream to you, but it was certainly something he could easily make a reality for Steve.

The feeling of your body sinking a little heavier into his own was something that Steve couldn’t ignore. Just as he was about to suggest moving you to the cosiness of your bed, he heard heavy breathing slipping from your lips. Tilting his head down, Steve’s eyes flickered over the relaxed contours of your face, mouth slightly parted as you drifted further into a dreamless slumber. It made his heartache at just how exhausted you seemed, hardly able to keep your eyes open or find time to enjoy your evening after work before you were home much too late to do anything productive.

Steve lost track of how much time he spent allowing you to use his body as a pillow before convincing himself that you might wake up with pains tomorrow if you continued to sleep crumpled up beside him. Carefully he manoeuvred you to be laying across your couch, settling you onto your side and tugging a nearby blanket over your snoring frame. You were the picture of beauty whilst sleeping, with no worry on your face; Steve found himself unable to look away.

As much as he wanted to stay, Steve knew that he shouldn’t impose on your rest anymore, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, being mindful not to make you stir before whispering into your dreams that he would see you again soon. He saw himself out of your apartment, diligent in locking the door as he left. By now, your safety had become one of his top priorities, he and Bucky had a knack for making enemies and the thought of you being in danger or hurt because of them was a real fear for them both now. The moment that you were living with them would be the first night that Steve would be able to sleep easy, but until then, he would continue to worry.

The sun had barely crested the sky by the time you awoke on your couch that following day. Part of you was a little confused as you hadn’t remembered falling asleep, but memories flooded back of Steve’s presence as you continued to stir. Finally, you concluded that he had taken care of you in the most gentle and genuine ways. A tiny smile tugged at your lips as you reached for your phone and typed a kind message to the blond with gratitude for being so kind and gentle when you needed him the most.

Considering that you had got such a restful sleep, you felt no need to continue your slumber. Instead, opt to push yourself into going for a morning run around Prospect Park, as that would be a much more productive way to begin the day. You took a little time changing into some running gear, sticking in your headphones and heading out of your tiny apartment towards your destination.

It was quiet running at this time in the morning, and there was hardly anyone around, meaning that you could enjoy the serenity of solitude. After some time running, you stopped by a water fountain, stretching yourself out and popping out your headphones whilst you checked your messages on your phone. “Well, what a surprise to see you here so early…” A voice from behind you made you jolt before turning and blinking slowly at Detective Danvers. “Sorry – I didn’t mean to scare you.”

A few pants slipped from your throat as you turned fully to face the Detective. “Oh, no… I’m sorry, I was a little distracted by my phone.” An uneasy laugh fell from your lips as you tucked the device back into your jacket pocket. “Do you... do you live close by to here, Detective?” You questioned with trivial interest. “You can call me Carol when I’m not in my uniform…” She gestured to her own running ensemble. “And yes, I live close by with my wife and our daughter.” The response came with familiar ease, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve actually been hoping that I would run into you outside of my work hours.”

At her final statement, a concerned crease formed on your brow. “Oh, you have? Is this about Oliver?” “No, no… not in a strict sense.” A confused look formed on your features, unsure where Carol could be going with this. “The night that I informed you about Oliver’s disappearance, I couldn’t help but notice James Barnes in your apartment.” For a moment, your face remained a picture of confusion before your brain connected the pieces. “Oh, you mean Bucky?” Then smiling at the memory of him.

“That’s right,” Carol answered with a stern look. “Now, this is strictly off the record, but… James Barnes isn’t the type of man you should be associating with.” A look of worry etched across your face. “I… I’m afraid I cannot say anymore, but… just know that he isn’t the man he is painting himself to be.” For a moment, a part of you wanted to argue that Bucky seemed genuine and inviting and warm, but the look on her face told another story. “I know I’m in no position to expect any blind belief, but just know… that even me telling you that he is a very dangerous man and the company he keeps is me saying too much.”

What exactly did Carol mean by saying that Bucky was a dangerous man? Did that make Steve a dangerous man too? You wanted to ask Carol many questions, but they would only be left unanswered as Carol gifted you a sad smile and then launched off jogging away from you. What were you supposed to do with this information? Were you just supposed to break things off with Steve and Bucky because Detective Danvers had said? Why would she tell you something like this? Why would she lie about something like this?

There was no doubt that your mind was a muddled mixture of emotion and confusion. The only person that you could think to turn to now was Wanda. Luckily, you knew that she would be preparing for the morning in her bakery and with that thought, you took off across town in hopes that she would help you find some clarity with this new information.

Heading into the alleyway, you entered her little bakery through the back door. You could hear that familiar Eastern European pop music pumping through her stereo. “Wan, you here?” You called you, a little breathless from the pace you had taken to get there. “I gotta talk to you…” Entering the kitchen, you found her mauling over some post, hastily putting it away as you entered and gifting you a concerned look. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She commented. “What’s happened?”

“I just… I had a weird thing happen whilst I was out jogging.” You mentioned hearing how your tone sounded almost dazed and then shaking your head. Wanda pulled you to a stool where you could sit and compile your thoughts with care before continuing. “I ran into Detective Danvers whilst I was on my run…” You began and a great deal of concern crossed her features. Her mind must have gone to the worst place regarding Oliver. “She warned me… about Bucky…”

You informed Wanda about everything that Carol had warned you about. All her vague worries and fleeting words clearly left Wanda feeling concerned too. “Well, what… what do you think she meant by all that?” The look on your face was filled with sheer concern and worry. “I-I’m not sure… What would she gain from driving a wedge between us?” Wanda seemed to shake her head, clearly just as puzzled as you were. “She didn’t… she didn’t seem like she was lying, but… if she was, why would she lie about something like that?” Again, the two of you looked at each other with confusion.

“Pietro mentioned something to me recently about Steve…” Then looking at her. “I thought that… that he was just being protective but knowing this makes me feel a little different,” Wanda admitted and you waited patiently for her to explain further. “He said that he had heard weird things about him… Pietro didn’t explain further, but… with Detective Danvers and Pietro saying something similar independently of each other…” Wanda frowned. “Maybe you should keep your distance for a little while.”

You looked towards her. “What?” Wanda frowned as she continued. “Just until you can figure out what is going on, right?” You knew that Wanda was right, but it still hurt to think about creating this space between these two men that had been treating you so great. Honestly, there had always been this sense in your chest that it was all too good to be true, but those feelings had worn away slowly. Now they were coming back rapidly. “Maybe we’ll get you out there again, right? Set you up on a bunch of dates; just have some fun!” Wanda enthused. “I know a bunch of great guys I can set you up with…” You just smiled sadly back at her.

You weren’t sure that any of your fears or doubts had been resolved after speaking with Wanda about the situation, and it wasn’t like you could dwell on it any longer. You needed to get to word and Rupert had flooded you with enough work to distract you for a while. Even with countless emails to write, paperwork to review and meetings to attend, it seemed that the words of Pietro and Carol came flooding back to your mind.

You could hear your phone jingle from your desk as you exited the meeting room, juggling a bundle of paperwork and your laptop. With care, you placed down the items that you were haphazardly holding. Inspecting the screen, your stomach dropped as Bucky’s name flashed up. It didn’t seem right to ignore him, but a part of your brain begged you to listen to Wanda’s advice about keeping your distance.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. It wasn’t like you had to cut all contact. That would just be rude, right? No, you just had to slow things down… Answering the phone, you brought it up to your ear and chirped sweetly. “Hey, Bucky…” “Hey, Doll.” His voice was cool and calming down the line. For a moment, you wondered how it was possible as seemingly sweet and inviting as Bucky, to be caught in the sights of Detective Danvers. “It’s been a while since we’ve spoken. How are you? Staying out of trouble?” A teasing tone to his voice made you break into a smile before reminding yourself to be strong.

“Oh, yeah. I’m staying out of trouble. I’ve only robbed three banks this week.” You jested, trying to keep yourself closed and guarded. His earthy chuckle spilt down the phone and you gnawed gently on your lower lip. “I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around, huh? Laying low~” He teased right back and you smirked as you sunk down at your desk, rubbing your forehead. “I’ve missed you…” The statement hung between you two and anxiously, you responded. “I’m sorry.”

A deep chuckle came from Bucky. “You don’t need to apologise, doll. You do need to come on a date with me tonight. I was thinking-” “I can’t come out tonight, Bucky.” The words left your lips quicker than your brain could genuinely comprehend. The line went completely silent for a moment. “I-”

“You can’t come out tonight?” He repeated your statement back towards you, gulping hard, you responded. “I can’t… I’m… I’m working late again tonight. I have this thing I want to finish and-” “Is your boss pushing you too hard?” His voice had an edge which made your heart skip a beat. “No, no. That isn’t it.” You blinked a few times, shaking your head and stood up, exiting the office floor to try and get home privacy away from your colleagues. “No, I’m sorry. Can we just do a rain check or something?”

A beat of silence passed. “Okay.” He agreed softly. “Okay, sweetheart.” You allowed a small breath to escape your lips. “I’ll text you later to check on you, alright? I wasn’t joking about missing you.” You quietly agreed before bidding farewell and clutching your phone to your chest. There was this pit of guilt growing in your chest, but this sensible part of your brain knew you had to stay true for a while. It would be challenging, but you needed some time to clear your head and come to a solution.

The remainder of the workday was utterly draining. It wasn’t that much of a fib that you had told Bucky about needing to work late because Rupert had practically kept you in the office until he had tied up most of his loose ends. You almost wished you had plans that you could have used as an excuse to get away, but that wasn’t the case.

On your way back to your apartment, you decided to stop by your favourite pizza place to pick up a few slices before returning to your humble little home. Just as you were wandering very tiredly up the steps to your apartment building, your phone began to buzz in your bag, rummaging around before tugging it out.

You wondered if Bucky was sticking true to his word of contacting you after work, but your brows creased as you spotted that the caller had withheld their phone number. The thought darted through your mind that maybe you should have just avoided the call, but the curious side of your mind pushed you to answer instead.

“Hello?” Then answering with an air of professionalism, stepping through into your apartment building. “Hello, this is Timothy Lewinski. I’m so sorry to be calling so late. I hope I’m not disturbing.” A gasp caught your throat as you quickly swallowed down the food in your mouth and rushed into your apartment.

“No, no. You’re not disturbing at all. I’m happy to be hearing from you, Timothy. How can I help?” You kept your voice light and airy as you placed down your food and took a seat, anxiously listening. “I’m happy to be hearing from you too. I’m so sorry that we have taken so long to get back to you. We’ve had some changes in the business, shuffling around and just trying to get things all straightened out, but…” There was a long pause. “But if you’re still interested in the job, I would be thrilled to offer it to you. We thought that your interview was exceptional and having you part of our team would just be such a privilege.”

There was no denying the shock sound in your tone as you responded. “Oh…” A beat of silence fell between you both. “Oh, that… Of course, that would be… Yes, yeah… I mean, I’m so glad to hear from you and… of course, I’d need to take some time to think, but… yes, I think that would be… so great… I’m sorry, I’m just a little shocked…” Then laughing as you shook your head. “Thank you so much for contacting me. I’m so grateful. Thank you, thank you again…” You were babbling, feeling embarrassed you pursed your lips closed.

“Of course. Please, no need to thank me. We’re happy to be offering the job to you. Like I said, you’ll be an amazing addition to our team. Please, take as much time as you need to consider and we’ll speak more about the finer details over the coming weeks. Does that work for you?” Hastily you agreed, the two of you exchanging further pleasantries before finally hanging up.

An excited squeal sprung from your throat just as you put the phone down. This wasn’t what you were expecting, but the thought of being able to get away from the exhaustion of your current job was something that gave you a great deal of peace. With everything wrong happening around you right now, at least you could feel like you were heading in the right direction with your job. Tonight would be your first peaceful and restful night's sleep for a while, knowing that a better life would start soon.

From the modern office of Timothy, he hung up the call from his side, too, eyes drawing up and asking evenly. “Does that work for you?” “It does…” Bucky responded, picking up a leather duffle bag and placing it on his dark oak desk. “I think you’ve made a very wise choice. Look for yourself…” He urged with a slight flick of his wrist.

Standing up, Timothy unzipped the bag and gazed inside to see the wads of rolled-up cash and couldn’t help the big smile that pressed across his lips. “I expect you to give her a fair contract of employment. I wouldn’t want to take another trip back here because of another boss taking advantage of her kind nature.”

“That won’t happen, Mr Barnes,” Timothy responded quickly, taking hold of the duffle bag and placing it down by his feet. “I… I really did think that she was a wonderful candidate for the job.” He explained with a tone of honesty which made Bucky nod his head gently. “I understand that perhaps we did leave her waiting a little too long for a response” Then he nodded. “Just don’t leave her waiting again and we won’t have any problems.”

Bucky then tugged his phone from his pocket, glancing down to see if he had heard from you, but only Steve’s messages crowded his cellphone. “Have a good evening, Tim. I hope we won’t be speaking again soon.” His voice was a low warning before setting off from the office, dialling Steve’s number and holding his phone. “The job is a done deal. We just need to figure out why she’s pulling away…” “We’ll figure it out, Buck. Don’t worry.”

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