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#RUBY CHOSE TO BE A LITTLE SHIT LIKE THAT
*After Ruby turned the colour of the elivator shaft*
Juno: SO YOU CHOSE TO BE GREEN
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Crafty!Reader gifting Morpheus something they made specially for him! Bet that guy never received a nice handmade gift in his life. Thank!! Have a nice day!
this warmed my heart, thank you for sending it in 🤍
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"For me?" Morpheus asked again, turning the little box in his hands. "Why?"
You shrugged. "Just because."
"Is this a trade? Do you want something in return?"
What? Morpheus sat across from you at the table, confusion and curiosity written all over his beautiful face.
"It's a gift, Dream," you said, tone a little amused. "I don't want anything in return. I just made you something because ..." You shrugged again. "Because I wanted to. I hope you like it."
His eyes darted up. "You made it?"
"Just open it."
He did. It also became very obvious that he did, in fact, never receive a gift before. Because only someone like that would open the box with so much care and so painfully slow.
"You chose the wrapping paper?"
You smiled. "Thought it was fitting." The stars and little crescent moons printed on them spoke to you in the store.
When he finally opened the box and the gift fell into his hand, he froze, staring at it in ... disbelief? Shit, didn't he like it?
"It's obviously not the real thing," you said, suddenly feeling a bit shy as you heat rushed to your cheeks. "I thought, now that you don't have your ruby anymore, you might like this. Like a replica. A memory. I don't know, I-"
"You made this yourself?" He interrupted you as he held it up against the kitchen light. The red stone wasn't a real ruby but it still shimmered beautifully.
You nodded. "Mhm."
Morpheus remained silent, eyes fixated on the gift, expression unreadable. You shifted in your place. Why couldn't he just say something. "If you don't like it-"
"It's beautiful."
"Oh." Your heartbeat slowed. Oh, thank all the Gods humanity ever thought of.
He looked at you, completely serious, and a bit - you felt daring as you thought it - overwhelmed. "Thank you."
You smiled. "You're very welcome."
"And you do not require anything in return?"
"Morpheus!"
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send me an ask for a little blurb
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razorblade180 · 12 days
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Shift in the town
Thug 1: Come on! *runs out store* Pick up your feet!
Thug 2:*running with money* This would be faster if you took a bag!
Thug 1:Haha! Quit you’re complaining. This is the easiest score of our life! With all recent “changes” in Vacou, nobody has time for-
???:Uhh excuse me?
The two thugs stop dead in the tracks and quickly turn around as they heard the familiar voice of a very famous citizen. Staring at them was the hero of Remnant, Ruby Rose; complete with black baggy shorts, and oversized red t-shirt, and an unblinking baby looking right at them.
For less than half of a second, the first thug motioned toward his knife, then immediately abandoned the idea as the hero gave him a glare that uttered “don’t even” in the most ominous way.
Thug 2:Oh come on! You’re not supposed to be on patrol!
Ruby:Do I look like I am? I was on my way to the store, but I needed cash from the bank. I have a feeling they won’t be able to make change at the moment though.
Thugs:…..
Ruby:…Drop the bags. All the weapons. Do that and I won’t even chase you. Feels too soon to expose this little one to violence.
Thug 2: You really think you can take us unarmed and with a-
Ruby:I’m asking nicely. *smiles*
Thug 1:….Drop the money.
Thug 2:What!?
Ruby:Aye, smart choice.
Thug 2: The hell it is! I’m not giving up this shit!
Ruby:And now you’re cursing in front of my child. Cool… *looks at Thug 1* Could you kindly drop the knife you were going for and walk towards me, please?
Never has kindness felt so terrifying. He emptied all of his pockets and slowly approached, leaving his partner in utter disbelief with her jaw hanging open. Ruby gave the man an indifferent gaze before presenting her child. He was hesitant to move at first but slowly opened his arms. That’s what she wanted, right.
Ruby indeed briefly put Carmine, her whimsical child, into the thugs arms. Briefly was an understatement. The second he got a firm grasp on the child, the sight of petals filled his vision. He had just enough time to look over at his partner and gasp as he watched her face get grabbed and slammed into the sidewalk as if Ruby was trying to dribble it. A heavy thumb shook the ground as the thug made her impact on it. Ruby was already taking her daughter back into her arms before the thieving woman rested on the ground.
Ruby:Thanks. I’ll tell the cops you cooperated if they run your prints. I’ll also keep my promise. Run if you want. Don’t take your friend though. She made her choice.
Thug: W-Why would you hand me the child?
Ruby:You have common sense. It’s why you didn’t draw your weapon at the start.
Thug:And if I chose to flee or try to hurt the kid?
Ruby:Dead. *rocking baby* But you already knew that, didn’t you? Not very hero like I know, but I’m off the clock and a mother now. My child, then my morals. Now then, make sure every thug knows that. Behave and don’t get any brazen ideas. All of you.
Thug:Y-Yes ma’am!
He sprints off while Ruby leans against a building and plays with Carmine while waiting for authorities to show up.
Ruby:Did mama’s stern voice scare?
Carmine:*giggling*
Ruby:Hmmm, that’s slightly concerning. *smiles* Maybe you’re more like me than I thought? Still, let’s have a peaceful, uneventful day. *kisses cheek* Mmmuaahh!
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houseofpendragons · 21 days
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New Ideas for HOTD Rhaenyra Fashion pt.7
First time I’m doing one of adult Rhaenyra’s costumes, and we’re starting off with the one I hateeee the most of all:
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I just, it’s so-it’s so, wtf is this shit?!?!?
I get it’s a sort of call back go her of outfits when she was younger but bruh😶 you’re telling me this is what she chose. Even her younger outfits were better than that. And I get it, I get it, it’s supposed to be maternity wear but reminder that this:
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Is what Alicent wore when pregnant with Helaena. And this is what Rhaenyra wore right after the birth:
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Both are hella fire, stunning. The dress Rhaenyra’s wearing is very Velaryon esque, slowly, loose, a sort of beached of Greece type beauty. Now she can still wear Targaryen colors, but she can also still have some representation of her Velaryon marriage (as we really tryna post a happy front so no one thinks about daddy Harwin😘)
So I think she’s still be wearing something similar, but perhaps representing both family’s. This being an under dress:
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With it blue threading running through the red it could easily be designed a scales.
I’d also add an open fronted petticoat so that she could keep her arms warm and protect her belly or breasts if she feels the need as a woman whom has freshly given birth.
I’d use these three for design reference:
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Taking the pattern from the red gown, the design of the green gown w/ the white designs, and then the golden medallion chains binding them together from the third design.
I’d change the color of the petticoat to a Targaryen black, and trade the white designs for gold ones more similar to the ones we on her blue dress. As you can see the zigzagging in the first picture of the three is reminiscent of the blue threads on the red dress meant to be worn under so honestly those could just be changed to gold. Keeping the golden belt with the rubies in the second picture, I’d disregard the highest neck piece with the laces in the front. I’d keep the spacing of the open front in the third picture, turning the bands of the front to match the fabric of the underdress. The gold on either side of the bands could be formed into dragons heads (perhaps reminiscent of Syrax’s head if ur feeling fancy). Lastly, I think I would make the inside fabric of the petticoat a velaryon blue, replacing the yellowish color we see on the interior of the dress in the third picture.
Sorry if that was confusing, I might’ve got a little too descriptive to show you what going on in my mind 😭
As for her Jewelry, I just saw a Reddit post made before hotd came out about the color of Joffrey and Jace’s dragons. They were actually correct for the most part about Vermax (Jace’s dragon) so I have faith in their theory that Tyraxes (Joffrey’s dragon) is red & black or something similar.
(If you want to read their theory about how the colors of the dragons belonging to Rhaenyra’s first three sons reflect the Conquerors original three dragons and Dany’s three dragons check it out on Reddit u/OneirosDrakontos)
That being said I’d want to reflect his hatchling, or at least egg on her jewelry. (Bc I also saw someone say Rhaenyra wears a ring for everyone of her three sons @atopcat) Maybe it’d be cute if she did something to reflect their future dragons after their birth with her jewelry as well.
Red and black for Tyraxes, gold for the ring she wears for him:
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Her hair is more of a simpler extent, as I feel like though time hasn’t calmed down her fashionista tastes to an extreme extent, she’s more concerned about her newborn baby than her hair right now.
Something like this, but instead make it a half-do w/ hair still hanging free from any binds/braids:
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Replace the pink ribbon and bow with two Velaryon Blue colored bands with gold design embroidered onto it, golden thread braided at the edges of the fabric. Perhaps the bow could be replaced with a golden three headed dragon pin stick through the braid so it appears as if mini dragons heads are roaring at those walking behind her.
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imagine-darksiders · 1 year
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Here's a request, how would Strife and Samael react to accidentally seeing s/o naked for the first time? Like they are getting ready to bathe or something and thought they were alone. They didn't know anyone would be there, and when Strife/Sam do see them, s/o is oblivious. Like they realize very quickly "aw shit, s/o is cute...", Inner monologue stuff about s/o and their new feelings. I have a thing for pining. Real romance fluff with a suggestive hint. Nothing happens, this doesn't have to be nsfw if you don't want it to be. I just want your take on their reactions cause I think they would both range very differently. I chose those two cause they are my favorite. If you don't wanna do this one, that's ok too. I just really like your writing and how you interpret things. Thank you again.
Samael:
It's a common assumption among those who don't know him personally, that the Demon Prince, Samael, is a debauched and lascivious snake who would only relish in the chance to catch a human unawares.
It's a common assumption. But so often common is confused with correct.
He's a prince. Be that of Hell or Heaven or any realm in-between, he knows how to behave like a gentleman when needs be.
To his own surprise, he's found himself falling more and more into that courtly conduct ever since he managed to get his claws on the Horsemen's little human, swiped by his own claws right from underneath their noses.
'Nothing personal,' he'd told you while you thrashed and beat at the vast, scaly fingers wrapped around your torso, 'This is all tactics, you understand.'
With the Horsemen focusing all of their efforts into tracking you down – they've yet to work out that he's behind your disappearance – Samael is free to move his players across an unguarded chess board. A classic – if risky – slight of hand.
Oh, he imagines they'll try to kill him once they discover you hidden here in his fortress at Shadow's Edge, but that's hardly of any concern to a Prince of Hell. If he thought the Horsemen were a genuine threat, he wouldn't have provoked them by taking their precious, little human.
They won't be able to deny, when they eventually find you, that he's been nothing if not a most gracious host. You aren't a political enemy, after all, you're an innocent bystander in his game of cat and mouse.
He's placed you in one of the Eastern towers - under guard and lock and key, of course – where every amenity has been made available to you. A spacious chamber, adorned by a luxurious bed with silken, ruby-red sheets. An adjacent nook that boasts a king-sized bathing pool for you to maintain your hygiene....
If anything, you're less of a prisoner, and more of an unusual guest, though such 'special treatment' has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your affinity for story-telling far surpasses the talents of his own subjects.
All you have to do is recite Earthen fairy-tales to him, plots of films you can still remember, stories from the books you used to read at school, and every single one of them is eagerly eaten up by the demon Prince, specifically those that have happier endings.
Those very stories are the reason Samael finds himself striding down the corridor to your chambers now, with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the impressive claws at the end of each of his toes clicking sharply against a black-stone floor.
Last night, you'd half-finished a tale of a caterpillar with an absolutely voracious appetite, but you'd fallen asleep just before the most crucial climax. He'd half a mind to shake you conscious again and demand you tell him how the gluttonous little insect earns his downfall through hubris and greed, but in the end, he permitted you your scant few hours of fitful sleep.
Perhaps the ending you have in store will have been worth the wait...
The phantom guards posted outside your room snap to attention as he passes them by, though their master doesn't spare either of them so much as a fleeting glance, stepping leisurely up to the tattered, scarlet curtain that separates your chambers from the corridor outside.
And that's when he hears it - a sound so seldom heard in Hell, it actually startles the Prince into slowing his gait as his scowl comes undone, softening the deep-set creases carved between his brows.
He pauses at the curtain and twists an ear towards the noise...
... Music?
Slowly, he eases his crooked knuckles beneath the curtain and lifts it aside, hesitating for another moment to discern that his ears really aren't deceiving him. That's music he's hearing. More specifically, it's singing.
You are singing.
He's spoken with you enough times by now to recognise your voice in spite of the melodious notes of a song that drift into his ears from somewhere beyond the bed chamber.
But then, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Of all the denizens residing in his fortress, who among them is the most likely to burst into song other than the human?
Eyes of liquid fire scan the room and find it devoid of his prisoner, until they land upon the arched entrance that leads into the adjacent bathing quarters.
He recalls how you'd been stunned almost speechless the first time he showed you the enormous pool cut out of an obsidian floor.
He'd taken the liberty to drain it of lava before filling it up again with clean, un-poisoned water – a rare commodity in Hell, given the rate of its evaporation.
“Why?” you'd asked, squinting up at him dubiously.
Samael's face had remained perfectly set like the stone underfoot as he hummed his reply, “I assumed humans preferred to bathe in water. Not molten lava.”
That wasn't what you'd meant, and he knew it, but you'd been sensible enough not to look a gift demon in the mouth, as it were.
Lifting his nose to take a whiff of the air, Samael pads like a graceful predator across the chamber, following the sound of your voice.
Until the day comes when he no longer sits on the throne, he'll staunchly deny that his footsteps fall just a little more softly against the stone in his endeavour to remain unnoticed by the room's occupant.
Deftly, he manoeuvres around a scattering of garments that have been strewn haphazardly about the chamber, quirking one solid, scaly brow at them as he passes. 'Odd,' is all he muses.
Under normal circumstances, you're never seen without your flimsy attire.
Finding his curiosity piqued, Samael ducks his crooked horns and steals into the dark doorway, casting an eye languidly across the baths, only to freeze in his tracks, his whole body going utterly still from the horns on his head to the tip of his long, sweeping tail.
As if the singing weren't enough of a shock, you suddenly come dancing into view, swinging your hips to and fro like a pendulum. You're facing away from the doorway, thank the Void, but that's hardly what the demon Prince is focused on.
Standing there on the first step of the bath, bobbing your hips to the tune of your own song, he sees you.
All of you.
There isn't a shred of clothing present to preserve your modesty, no undergarments, nor a single strip of cloth, not a thread to your name.
Samael's silvery pupils dilate, expanding out of slits until they sit soft and round in his yellow eyes.
Rather perplexingly, he doesn't wheel himself backwards out of the entryway as soon as he registers your state of undress, though he chalks this up to being struck with simple, scientific curiosity at having stumbled upon a human in their most natural state.
Why, any second now, he's sure he'll feel that familiar wave of disgust surge up like bile and turn his stomach, because what is the human body if not a small, featureless sack of squelching meat?
Any second now...
Surely...?
Despite the weak-willed voice in the back of his head trying to convince him to turn away, the demon's eyes remain firmly adhered to you, and his ears twitch and flick towards the sound of your voice, anxious to catch every note you sing.
What is the human body...?
It's very.... gentle, he observes through a sudden haze that knocks him ever so slightly off-kilter.
A golden stare roll up the length of your legs, tracing the path of your spine and lingering on the back of your fragile neck.
There isn't a single, sharp edge to your body. No jagged horns or spines jutting through your skin, no tough and unforgiving scales to protect you from the elements, no natural weapons in the form of fangs or claws.
A body like yours was never intended to cause hurt.
What a flawed design.
What a brave design.
Before he can keep it at bay, a memory of Lilith pushes to the forefront of his mind – of her cruel lips that twist into a smirk and her hateful glares that try to poison his heart as she lays underneath him on their shared bed, claws like knives cutting into his scaly forearms to draw as much pain from him as she can, all in the name of 'making love.'
But what if....?
As the demon Prince gazes down at you, transfixed, the image of your naked body slips seamlessly in to replace Lilith's in his mind's eye. Her feral snarl gives way to something kinder, something sweeter, welcoming.
And suddenly, there you are, spread out in his Queen's place on the red, silken sheets, surrounded by the treasures he's draped you in during a wild and scandalous courtship. For the first time in his life, he doesn't want to ravage the body under his, though maybe he'd remind you that he could, if you'd only ask him to.
No. Perhaps, instead, you'll prop yourself up against the mountain of pillows he'd given you to nest in, and you'll cradle his head in your lap, your clawless fingers stroking gently up and down the space between his impressive horns as you tell him stories well into the night, listening to the crackle of the wall sconces together.
'Is that what it must be like?' he wonders, 'to take a lover who has no interest in power or status?' That must be what the stories mean, when they talk of love for love's sake.
Ah... But that kind of love has no place in Hell. The selfless kind. Altruistic. Here, one either loves to gain power, respect, and to rise through the social ranks, or one simply doesn't love at all.
In all the years he's sat on the throne of Hell, never once did he think he'd find himself so captivated by the sight of a human with no clothes on.
The leathery membrane folded between his wings starts to creak as they gradually spread open, driven by an ancient and well-buried instinct to appear bigger, stronger, more suitable than any other demon in the fortress...
He doesn't even notice that his tail has begun to sweep silently from side to side in perfect tandem with the swing of your hips.
Regardless of his imposing presence lurking just behind you in the doorway, you still don't seem to have noticed that you have an audience, and you likely would have gone on with your oblivious dance had the demon Prince not sabotaged himself moments later.
He never meant to do it. He's certainly never been caught doing it before, not even when he was trying to court an impassive Lilith.
Somewhere deep inside his almighty chest, the demon's muscles begin to quiver, pulsing together as they work to push a strange sound up through his throat - something between a contented hum and an unmistakable, mortifying purr.
You notice the sound before he does, but his reactions are sharper than your own.
Your song trails into uncertain silence, there's a whoosh of air and an enormous shadow flits backwards through the doorway just as you turn around to investigate, curling your arms around yourself in anticipation of finding a peeping-tom.
… The entrance is empty.
The Phantom guards scramble to attention when their master suddenly comes storming out of your chambers, his tail lashing like a whip and his mighty chest heaving in and out as if he's trying to stoke a fire in his lungs.
Gleaming fangs crush themselves together as he thunders aimlessly down the corridor, his only concern in distancing himself from the room of his prisoner.
What was that?
What the Hell was that!?
Of all the ridiculous, humiliating, puerile things for a Prince to do.
A purr...
A purr!
At his age! And one directed at a human no less.
He's Samael! Accuser, Seducer. Prince of Demons and Lord of Darkness. He's well above the feeble allure of the flesh.
... But it wasn't just your flesh that tempted him, was it?
Samael's lips curl to bare his teeth as he viciously swipes the thought away with another lash of his tail.
It doesn't matter, he tells himself resolutely. You hadn't seen him, nobody witnessed the event, you'll carry on none-the-wiser while he strikes the whole mishap from his memory.
The Horsemen will come and take you away, as he intended.
Yes... Just as he intended.
EDIT: Holy shift I just realised I got so caught up in Samael's story, I never wrote Strife's!!!!!!! I'm so sorry!!!!
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thatorigamiguy · 1 year
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Jaune: “So when I was a little kid, my second older sister became really addicted to oxytocin. She went from getting A’s to D’s and she looked horrible all the time, but mom and dad just thought that she was under a lot of stress and that the classes were just harder than she originally thought. But her habits ended up getting worse and worse, to the point that she was spending all of her savings and whatever pitiful amount she could get her hands on to support her habit. One day while everyone was out of the house, she grabbed me by the hand and said we were going on a “Field Trip.” I didn’t question it, I was a kid and I had thought that she had come back to her old self even though she looked like absolute hell.”
“So, we ended up taking a bullhead into Vale and went to what I still consider to this very day to be the shadiest looking apartment building, up several flights of stairs to the third floor and she knocks on the door. After a moment, the door opens up and she ushers me inside we’re a I see a really messy room attended by two guys: A super jacked up Tiger Faunus and a scrawny looking human guy. the human guy has a bag in his hand and he askes her with a dubious look “So, how you gonna pay for it this time?”
She immediately responds “I’m paying with him.”
“Him,” being me. That’s right, my sister tried to sell me to the what I now realize were her dealers in exchange for more Oxy. The silence that followed after was deafening and both her dealers could only stare at her in complete disbelief. Angered at their hesitance, she asks them “Don’t you assholes do trafficking or some shit like that? I’ll just tell my parents that he was kidnapped, just give me the damn oxy!”
Another awkward pause of silence as the dealers both share a wary glance at each other, before the Tiger Faunus mutters “It’s a deal” as the human tosses her the bag and she hightails it out of that shithole slamming the door behind her and not even giving me a second look. The tiger Faunus shakes his head muttering about how my sister was a “Crazy Bitch,” before looking down at me with an apologetic look.
“Listen, I’m really sorry about this kid.” He said as he pulled out his scroll, “Here, give me your home phone and I’ll have your parents pick you up. Were do you live anyways?”
I hesitantly tell them that I live in Ansel, causing them to both give me shocked look before the scrawny guy all but shouts “She dragged you on a two hour bullhead ride for this? For fucks sakes, I told you we should’ve stopped dealing to her the moment she started paying us in bags of quarters!”
The two dealers bickered with one another for moment, before the Tiger Faunus called up my mom and the Scrawny guys was kind enough to lend me his DS with Mario on it to pass the time. My parents come and grab me and man I thought they were going to grease the dealers then and there but they let them slide after putting the fear of brothers into the two of them and then took me home. They, quite obviously, learned of what my sister had done from me and the sheer unbridled rage from my mom and the absolute ice cold vitriol my dad expressed to my sister was something I’ll always remember to this day and they pretty much gave her two options: go to rehab and get cleaned up, or not only get kicked out of our home but to have her name banished off the Arc family name to forever be an exile and pariah of the Arc family for the rest of her miserable days in abject shame.
She chose to go to rehab, kicked her drug habit, and managed to get sober after two years and has remained sober since. My parents bought me Pokemon Black and Chrono Trigger for what I went through as compensation.”
Jaune took a drink of his water, a little parched from his rather long story only to take note of the horrified slack jawed looks of both his team and team RWBY. Both Pyrrha and Ruby had tears in their eyes and he swore he heard Weiss muttering under her breath something about “mistreating him to much,” whatever that meant. The awkward silence was broken when Yang, who Jaune had noticed her eyes were red and also a little teary eyed, finally broke the silence.”
Yang: “...Jaune?”
Jaune: “Yes Yang?”
Yang: “...What in the actual fuck?”
Jaune: “Oh you think that was bad? That pales in comparison to this one time-”
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dinodogs · 11 months
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kay I don't give a shit what anyone says Weiss has a crush on Ruby. In my silly crazy headcanon world with rainbows and unicorns Ruby loves her back. But strictly speaking in canon, I find that doubtful. But Weiss? Theres no doubt in my mind Weiss has a crush on her.
Weiss always seeks out Ruby specifically. Rubys her comfort person, and I'm not saying everyone has a crush on their comfort person, but the way she always goes to Ruby when she needs help makes it so obvious Ruby makes her feel safe and happy. Weiss's first thought is always Ruby.
When the jabberwalker attacked the market, Blake and Yang ran off, but Weiss stopped to look for her and went to grab her. Thats such like a specific little detail crwby added. They didn't need to do that there was no reason for them to add that in but they did bc it shows how much Weiss cares about Ruby.
Weiss being the one to understand Ruby when she ran off. Honestly that was very mature of her and I'm so proud of u bby ur so sweet. Out of everyone, she was the one who understood her partner and how she was feeling, and how they didn't mean anything wrong by it but whether they meant it or not they hurt Ruby. And how they need to support her and be there for her.
Weiss being so ready to accept whoever Ruby comes out as too...its so sweet it makes my teeth rot. She didn't care if Ruby didn't remember her, if it wasn't the Ruby she knew, she didn't care she was going to love her and accept her no matter what. She knew whoever came out of that wood statue, it was Rubys choice, and if Ruby chose to be someone new then she was going to accept that simply bc it was what she chose.
The pure JOY when she saw her Ruby come out as Ruby, Weiss was willing to accept Ruby no matter what, but she was still so damn happy to see her partner. It makes me ill I love them so much you gusy don't understand.
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darkened-writer · 2 years
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Suspirium Into Stupor─| 01
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summary || ❝He watched you go, blinking in realization and revelation. He watched you with a look of yearning. But he couldn’t stay here, he had a journey ahead, one you couldn’t join him on.❞
pairing || Morpheus x Fem!Reader
word count || 2,756
warnings || SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3??? 
notes || This fic has been the main one I have been planning since the first episode, and it will follow the events of each episode! So, I hope you enjoy!
P.S. I made a Pinterest board and Spotify Playlist for this fic, just for the visuals and overall vibe of the series! Enjoy that as well!
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“My first question… I had a leather pouch, filled with sand. Where is it?”
“It was sold, In London, last purchased by a magic user called “Johanna Constantine”.”
“Constantine? I knew a Constantine. But that was three-hundred years ago. You said last purchased; does she still have the sand?”
“Dream… You know better than that. You get one question, one answer.”
“My apologies…”
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Dreaded rain pelted down upon the windowsill, the refractions of the light from the streetlamps created an odd, orangey ambiance inside of the two-bedroom apartment; the TV in the front room was still buzzing with life, playing a late night gameshow on a low volume. Two pizza boxes adorned the coffee table, a couple of empty beer cans crushed and thrown next to the boxes. 
Johanna Constantine was draped upon the couch with her legs intertwined with her best-friends, mouth hung slightly open in her slumber until awoken by the alarm on her phone playing a jingle, bright notes making the woman groan with annoyance. She never was a morning person, but she had to get to work. She sat up, grabbing her shoes from under the coffee table and seemingly slipping them onto her feet, lacing them with a satisfied grumble.
“You have work this early, Jo…?”
“Y/N, you could’ve kept sleepin’.”
Johanna looked decent for having woken up early in the morning, however Y/N looked a bit worse for wear, hair poking in all manner of direction, and the hem of her shirt riding up her stomach.
“You wake up, I wake up, it’s a fair deal.”
While Y/N spoke, Johanna grabbed her pure white coat, slipping it over her black turtleneck, and buttoning it up. 
“My sleep schedule is dog shit as of now anyways… so getting up with you won’t hurt a bit.”
This aroused a chuckle from the Constantine, her boots clicking on the wooden floor as she made her way over to her well-exhausted friend and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, noting the warmth of her face from shoving it into the couch.
“I’ll be back later—I’ll get you a latte and a pastry from the shop if I have the time.”
“Little Nina’s shop on ninth?”
“You bet.”
“God bless you, my angel Constantine!”
“Love you too!”
And, with a shut of the door, Johanna was gone, and Y/N was left to her devices. The feeling of needing to sleep creeping up on her. But a feeling in her gut told her that she should stay up, that Joanna may need her, so she kept her eyes open and on the TV.
When Johanna finally arrived back to your shared apartment, she seemed a tad stressed but still had her hands full, holding a cupholder that had two lattes and two pastries. She spoke of how she expelled a demon from the man the Princess was going to marry, neglecting to mention the tall and mysterious fellow with a voice that imprinted into her eardrums. Dream of the Endless, whom she’d have to track down his sand to appease him in his desperation for his tools. Helm, Sand, and his precious ruby, all on his mind as he had lost track of Johanna, being conveniently distracted by the Raven, “Matthew”. But Johanna just wanted to sleep, and knowing that Johanna was safe, you chose to sleep along with her, cuddling like two bear cubs in a shallow cave after finishing your lattes and delicious pastries. 
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You dreamt of green, the long grass caressing your calves, the sun beating down on your head and rolling down your shoulders. And, most of all, you dreamt of the trees, that stretching taller, and taller, hugging your frame with the branches and leaves. You truly felt the peace and euphoria that comes with being one with the Earth, with no limits and no expectations. The sound of a waterfall graced your ears, subtle but noticeable as you eventually crossed enough foliage to see it. It sparkled along with the sun beams, rushing down and crashing into the rocks beneath it, brutal beauty.
“Y/N, wake up-...!”
The darkness of the living room greeted your eyes that were just starting to get used to the oasis within your dream, Johanna’s hands grasping your shoulders softly but resolute. But your eyes weren’t on her dark brown ones, but the star-crossed ones of the man behind her. He loomed, trench coat almost as dark as his aura, and yet his skin complimented it all. Pale and chalky looking from the distance between you both. His hair was sparse and wild, framing his face perfectly, the man was sublime.
“Help me look in my office, would you? For a pouch of sand…— you remember it?”
“Erm…” His eyes were still on you.
“Yes, I remember…”
Rising to your feet, you stretched, bringing your arms above your head and letting out a groan of satisfaction as you followed Johanna to her office, the papers scattered everywhere giving you an odd feeling of comfort as she made a beeline for her desk, fiddling with her many trinkets and papers. The mysterious man trailed behind, standing and watching as you and Johanna both looked in different corners of the office.
“Why do humans love objects so much…?”
His voice came out, airless and stifling, his pronunciation giving him a sense of “wiseness” over just about anyone with “normal” dialect.
“You seem pretty attached to your sand—”
“It’s not just an object, it’s a part of me.”
His words left you pondering who or what he was, keeper of sand and speaking as if humans are foolish. Perhaps a god? Johanna had taught you quite a bit of supernatural knowledge that you wouldn’t doubt if he was an omnipotent being.
“If that's true, how’d you happen to lose it?”
“It was stolen by another magic user called Burgess.”
Johanna perked up, your own head turning towards the two speaking.
“Wait, not Roderick Burgess? The old Demon King himself, eh? Everyone used to say he was a fake. Said he had the Devil locked up in his basement. How the fuck did you…”
A pregnant pause, before it dawned on her, yourself still being left clueless. Johanna and the man both stared at each other as it finally clicked for her.
“Shit. Wasn’t the Devil he had locked up in his basement, was it?” Just his gaze confirmed that he was the one locked up, and you felt sympathy pulling at your heart.
“Were you down there? All this time?”
His gaze shifted to the side, towards photobooth pictures you knew Johanna never wanted to throw out, of her and her ex-girlfriend. His hand grabbed the picture, pulling it up and out of its “spot”.
“Is this you?”
“Why? Do I look that different? Or younger?”
He paused, considering, “No… Happy”.
Johanna sighed, “Shit. I know where your sand is.”
She turned to you, now grasping the picture and you felt your heart sink immediately.
“You really left this “Sand Pouch” with her? Johanna…”
“I know, I know—… Just, get ready to leave, we’re going to her flat.” She left the office, to likely put on her boots and jacket once again, leaving you in the room with the alluring stranger, his eyes landing on you.
“How do you know Constantine?”
“Best friends, for about six years… question is, how do YOU know her?”
The corner of his lips twitched up a bit, “She had my sand, and now I want it back.”
“Are you some sort of sand god or something…?”
His brows furrowed, “You really weren’t informed? I’m Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.”
A book that Johanna had kept in her office came to mind, the memory of opening up the book and blowing the dust off of the pages, reading the fine print about the various “Endless” and their power. The man in front of you was the Sandman, creator of dreams and nightmares, the “King” of the Dreaming. 
“The tomes of the Endless really didn’t capture your essence well, Dreamlord.”
You brush past him, suddenly remembering that you were going to go with the two, but while your thoughts were centered on leaving, Morpheus was puzzled. Did you really read a history book about him AND his family? Perhaps you were gifted in magic as Constantine was? You did have an aura around you, of someone who could do damage given the circumstances. And, to say that piqued his interest in you and your origins, would be an understatement. 
“Who is she? The woman in the picture.”
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The moon was shining upon the three of you, as you were walking in tandem towards the apartment of Rachel Moodie, Johanna’s ex whom she was still hung over on. Having kept many pictures of each other together, it was clear that Johanna missed her.
“Her name’s Rachel, Rachel Moodie.”
“Does she deal in magic as well?” Johanna scoffs.
“God, no. No, she’s actually a decent person. Proper job… nice family. Fuckin’ hated all the magic stuff.”
“And, yet you left the sand with her.”
“No, I did not leave it with her. Sort of left it. And her.”
His expression showed a minimal amount of empathy toward her, yet he seemed to know the feeling of heartbreak. Plenty of past lovers, you’d assume due to being “immortal”.
“I was staying at her place. She interpreted that as us living together, which we weren’t, so, one night, I just went on a job and… never went back.”
“Why?”
“Because it never ends well, does it?”
“What? Love?” Her statement struck a chord for him.
“No. I suppose it doesn’t.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people around me tend to get ripped in half or cast down to hell, except Y/N of course…— But it was safer for her if I left.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“No.” She stops walking, stopping in front of Rachel’s apartment door.
“I suppose I’ll have to now… This is her, or it used to be. It’s been six months. Maybe she might’ve moved house. Please, have moved house-”
Staying stood next to Morpheus, you watched Johanna go to press the buzzer for Rachel’s apartment, pressing it to get clearance to go inside.
“Oh, bollocks.”
There was awkward silence for a bit before she spoke again, “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she won’t be-”
BUZZ!
“That’s weird. She didn’t even ask who it is. Maybe she’s expecting someone. This could get awkward. More… awkward. You two wait here-”
“I’m coming with you.” You both said it in unison, peering at each other from peripheral vision, and Johanna let a smirk paint on her lips.
“No, neither of you are coming in with me. Do you have any idea how much she probably hates me? Do you have any ex-girlfriends?” 
This caused him to pause, looking down as if remembering something.
“We will not wait long.”
“You won’t have to. She’s gonna slam the door in my face, like I’m about to do to you two… right now.” As quickly as she was stood there talking, she vanished behind the door. Your own shoulders slacking as you walked over to a wall to lean against it. And eventually, rain started to pour from the oily black skies, giving the air an earthy smell similar to wet, freshly cut grass. A raven swooped down from the raining showers and settled in front of Morpheus, before squawking like it was talking. And Morpheus seemed to be listening intently.
“Matthew, I-”
Matthew? The raven had a name?
He peered up after a bit, focused on something other than the present moment as you marveled at the Raven. 
“Matthew? Psttt.. hello…!”
The raven turned to look at you then back at Morpheus, speaking to him as if he could understand, and apparently, he could, a slight smirk twitching at his lips.
“What did that raven tell you?”
“Nothing flattering…”
“Oh.”
Matthew flew away back into the rain and Morpheus went to open the door, your own hand stopping his with a grip on his wrist. He was oddly cold, like the air circulating around you two, almost sending a shiver up your arm.
“We must help Constantine and her ex-lover, follow me, Y/N.”
His tone was neutral and yet you knew to follow him as he guided you to Rachel’s apartment, like he had been here once before. And when he opened the door, sand falling to the floor in the figure of a woman, you knew. Johanna’s heartbroken expression, you knew. 
“Rach.”
“Constantine. Wake up.”
Her trance was broken immediately after he spoke that statement, Morpheus stepping up towards her, gentle and forgiving. 
“What did you do to me?”
“It was the sand.”
“Where’s Rachel?”
All of our expressions darkened, Johanna taking off towards Rachel’s room.
“Rachel? Rach?”
A weak voice spoke out from the silence, the tone was like Rachel was choking on quicksand, throat clogged with each and every grain. 
“Jo? Jo? Is that you?”
Rachel’s face that was once wide, full of life, now looked sucked dry of all that made her shine as a person. Her arms skinny and molded to her bones, shallow chest rising up and down, up and down. And the grey and blue bedding cradled her form like a newborn babe. This visual created a pit in your own stomach, having to see someone you knew suddenly devoid of livelihood.
“That’s such a wonderful dream.” Rachel was groaning in pain, and you knew in your heart that she was probably going to pass, sooner rather than later as Johanna walked carefully and meticulously up to her. Morpheus’s gaze dropped to the lone pouch of sand in Rachel’s loose grasp, and his eyes shone with a brief bit of sadness. 
“What’s happened to her?”
“It was not meant for humans.” He reached for the pouch, grasping it but Rachel began to whine as if the sand was keeping her alive, and tethered to living.
“No, no! No, give it back. Please. It hurts.”
Ripping it from her clutches, he made his way back to the door of the room, without looking at her dying form.
“We can go—”
You and Johanna were both unmoving, “What?”
“What? We can’t go. We can’t leave her like this.”
She was writhing in pain, and the sight made you wince.
“We can’t help her. The sand was the only thing keeping her alive.”
Johanna walked up to Morpheus, obviously confrontational, but you kept your attention on your dying friend, laying a hand onto her frail one in meaningless support. 
“Y/N? You’re here too?”
“Yeah, Rach, of course I am…”
This put a smile on her pale lips.
“Wait outside.”
Morpheus moved past you towards Rachel, and you gave him a small nod in acknowledgement, the two of you watching Johanna kiss Rachel’s head.
“Rach…”
“I’m sorry, Jo. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s my fault. All of it. Should never have left it with you. Should never have left.”
“Well, you came back, though. Didn’t you?”
A kiss on the forehead and Johanna was gone.
“Thank you, Morpheus.”
He stayed silent, his eyes on your back as you left the same way Johanna did. 
Thank you. 
You said thank you.
You could hear him approaching, your arms busy being wrapped around Johanna in comfort, for both her and you. Her gaze was on the rain and yours immediately gravitated to Dream.
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“She died in peace. In her sleep.”
“We’ll let her dad know… You know, she was actually a good person. There are a few of them out there, you know. They’re not all like me and Roderick Burgess.”
“You are not Roderick Burgess.”
This gave her a fleeting smile, before she unraveled from your arms to walk towards him. Yourself staying leaning against the ceramic wall, watching the two speak.
“And what’s your friend’s name?”
Matthew way down the corridor and you smiled at the raven.
“His name is Matthew, but he is not my-”
“Look after him, Matthew. He needs it.”
Tossing you an umbrella, she turned and opened hers up to the sky and walked out into the rain.
“Constantine!”
She turned.
“That nightmare won’t trouble you anymore.”
A smile before mouthing, ‘come on’ to you and you yourself turned your gaze to Dream. His eyes boring into you, like planes of stars, a galaxy of stars.
“Your help means plenty, Morpheus. I hope you find all of your tools…”
“Thank you, Y/N… Safe travels.”
“Likewise, Dream lord…”
Similar to Johanna, you opened your umbrella and speed walked to catch up to her, feeling the rain hit your jacket and eyes on your figure. He watched you go, blinking in realization and revelation. He watched you with a look of yearning. But he couldn’t stay here, he had a journey ahead, one you couldn’t join him on.
Thank you, Morpheus.
Thank you, Y/N… Safe travels.
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mamamittens · 1 year
Text
A Lone Melody (Pt. 1)
Platonic Yandere Arlong & OC(Melody)
Main
Warnings: Child endangerment, abandonment, possesive behavior, and canonical racism.
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Word Count: 1,785
This takes place before Fisher Tiger's death and his "Don't brutally beat the shit out of humans just because you can" speech.
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In a world almost completely covered by sea, it wasn’t humans that were destined to rule, it was fishmen.
This, Arlong knew, was simply an inevitable truth. Like the sun rising and falling in the sky and the ocean waves capsizing ships. One could argue. Fight it. But at the end of the day, this pitiful belief was like a rowboat in a hurricane. That was why he chose to follow Fisher Tiger alongside his childhood friends. Leaving behind Fishman-District, as well as Shyarly. She could handle herself fine now, so Arlong was scarcely worried about her.
For too long, those pathetic humans sat on top of that glorified hill and it was about time someone went up there and taught them a lesson.
Although… for someone so eager to fight back against humans, Fisher Tiger was soft. Soft like Jinbe who kept trying to mediate when they were younger. Arlong didn’t really get it, but he supposed that sometimes there were bigger fish to fry than personally beating the inferiority into their weak, human bodies. He wouldn’t even have time to think if he personally beat up every last arrogant human he came across.
Arlong looked out across the waves as they sailed to their next destination. The waves scarcely choppy as the sun glared down at them. He considered going for a short swim to take a break from the heat.
And that’s when he saw it.
A small iridescent bubble bobbing on the surface. Something inside it wriggling. A fish? Who bubbles a fish? Why? Curious and bored enough to investigate, Arlong leapt into the water, ignoring the startled cry of Jinbe.
“Arlong?! Where are you going, we’re supposed to be cleaning!”
Anything else Jinbe had to say was lost to the waves as Arlong powered effortlessly through the water.
The bubble was small, small enough that Arlong was a little impressed with himself that he even saw it to begin with. Somehow, it hadn’t popped yet, easily sliding into his arms as he brought it closer to see past the reflection of light that danced across the top. When he loomed over it, he was startled to find that it was a baby. Bafflingly enough, a fishman baby at that.
Swaddled in a thick blanket, the baby squirmed, upset at their imprisonment. Chubby face scrunched up and red, a stark contrast to their otherwise cool gray skin tone. White hair obscuring their features in fluffy chunks tipped with red and black. Gills around their tiny neck flaring as they whimpered, small hands with dark gray fingers clenched into tight fists. They didn’t even have teeth yet, gums smooth as they babbled unhappily.
Not wanting to leave the poor baby uncomfortable for much longer, Arlong carefully held the bubble close and swam back to the ship, climbing up the ladder Jinbe lowered.
“Arlong, what did you find?” Jinbe asked, the rest of the crew coming around to see. Arlong took a moment to stand, adjusting the bubble before placing his hand over the surface, popping it finally. The muffled whines now unimpeded as the baby cried, blindly reaching out and flailing in the open air.
“A baby.” Arlong grunted, carefully brushing back their hair. “A fishman baby.”
Wide ruby eyes looked up at him in shock. Staring right into his eyes as they smiled, clumsy fist hitting his hand and curling around his thumb with a happy warble. Pulling his hand in closer to gnaw on it. Despite himself, Arlong smiled, wriggling his fingers in their grip to their delight.
“Half.” Arlong looked up in surprise at his captain, Fisher Tiger staring softly at the baby. He reached down and brushed his thumb over the baby’s cheek. “They’re half fishman.”
Arlong scowled.
“What?” Arlong sneered, disgusted at the idea that any fishman would lay with a human, let alone have a child with them. Although, clearly something went wrong if the baby was abandoned in a bubble to float on the ocean’s surface rather than given away. “How do you know?” Arlong asked curiously, especially considering how different fishmen could look.
“Their skin, it’s too soft, the fat not firm enough. The texture is… not quite right for a full fishman. Their hands don’t have enough webbing. They even have fingerprints. Their hair is also softer. More like a mermaid’s, really.” Fisher Tiger announced in a soft voice, gently uncurling a fist to reveal faint markings as the baby tried to grasp his finger as well. “They must take after their fishman parent more than the human one, but still… they’re definitely not purely fishman.”
Arlong looked down at the baby in shock. Noting the differences himself. The baby seemed more like Shyarly than any fishman kid he could remember, but then again mermaids were a bit more delicate. They weren’t especially strong either but he’d be willing to chalk that up to him being a full-grown adult and them… well, a baby. It would be really fucking stupid to expect a baby to be stronger than himself.
“…Well, what do we do with them?” Jinbe asked with a frown. “Do we… take them back to Fishman Island?”
Arlong instinctively held the baby closer to his chest, his eyes drawn back to the wide, ruby eyes that had barely left him the entire time.
“Where did you even come from, kid?” Arlong asked, leaning down. He jerked in surprise when the baby reached up and grabbed the tip of his nose with a delighted laugh. The sound of paper crinkling clear now that he was so close. “Hm?”
Arlong gently freed himself and poked around the blanket, revealing a scrap of paper stuck to the baby’s chest. The ink having bleed heavily and staining the baby’s skin. It was a note, clearly, but the full contents were unreadable.
The occasional word remained intact enough that they were legible. Fisher Tiger grabbed the paper and squinted at it, holding it up to the sun to see better.
“I… desper—desperation… use…Bubb—bubble? Free… We… no… I Lov—love? Be gone… Sorry… My Melody…” Fisher Tiger paused, looking down at the baby. “…Melody, huh?”
Arlong looked at Jinbe and the others. His chest aching a little despite his distaste for humans.
They’re just a baby… just a baby.
“Something must have happened. They can’t have been out at sea for long. Maybe… one of the nearby islands knows something?” Arlong suggested, receiving startled looks. Arlong flushed and defended himself quickly. “I mean, clearly whoever wrote the note couldn’t keep them. If it was their… human parent, then it was because the baby is half fishman. If it was their fishman parent, they would have fled back to Fishman island since the baby could survive there, so something must have stopped them.” Arlong argued.
Fisher Tiger nodded, approval in his eyes.
“In the meantime… you and Jinbe look after them. We don’t have proper clothes but we can at least clean them up and feed them. Remember, no solids.” Fisher Tiger ordered.
“Ack! Why me?! Arlong is the one that found them!” Jinbe asked with a grimace.
“I can manage a baby.” Arlong protested as well, figuring it couldn’t be too different from Shyarly.
Fisher Tiger just smiled mischievously.
“Because I said so!” He laughed, the baby squealing in joy as well.
Small mercies, Melody was a very happy and agreeable baby. Arlong knew this was a rarity in babies but decided to count his blessing rather than complain about it. She—yes, a she, it was unavoidable given that they needed to bathe her. The end of her feet from arch to toes were the same color as her fingers and it made him laugh—seemed to want for nothing but to be held. A task that Arlong accepted easily enough and that Jinbe took over when he clearly grew jealous of the attention Arlong was getting from the cute baby. She was constantly playing with their shirts and burying her face into their necks while babbling.
Anytime they set her down for literally anything she cried and started squirming towards the nearest person. Clumsy and tearful.
Arlong assumed, somewhat sadly, that she was afraid of being left alone again. A sentiment he quietly sympathized with, remembering his own childhood and abandonment by his father. So he ignored the ribbing of his crewmates and made a sling to keep her to his chest but free his arms.
“…You’re not going to want to let her go.” Jinbe quietly warned him after seeing the look on Arlong’s face when he first put Melody in the sling. Her eyes staring up at him like he was the only thing worth seeing, gnawing on her fingers in contentment. “She’s still half-human, you know.”
Arlong looked at Jinbe a bit helplessly, having completely forgotten for a moment that Melody wasn’t his baby. It was almost frightening how little he cared about her human parentage after only a day.
He hated humans.
But… Melody wasn’t human. She wasn’t even half-fishman in his eyes. Not since she grabbed a spoonful of gruel and tried to feed him with it despite clearly being ravenous.
Quietly, in a small part of his heart, all he knew was that she was his.
Jinbe saw his relieved smile when they did their rounds at the nearby islands and found no whisper of a mixed couple. He didn’t say anything to Arlong, seemingly understanding his feelings without words.
“Well, seems like we’ll have to make a stop at Fishman Island.” Fisher Tiger said with a sly look towards Arlong and Jinbe. “Unless you two think you can handle taking care of Melody.”
“Of course I can!” Arlong scoffed, holding up Melody in the air as she giggled. “I can handle you just fine, can’t I, Melody?” She flailed in her new onesie emblazoned with their Jolly Roger, kicking her feet.
“Oh yeah, you plan on fighting with a baby strapped to your chest, Arlong?” Jinbe teased. “Really going to strike fear into those marines looking like that.”
Arlong clicked his tongue, laying Melody onto his shoulder where she quickly grabbed a fistful of hair and started chewing on it. Arlong tactfully ignored the mess she was making.
“How else is she going to learn how to handle those filthy humans?” Arlong scoffed. Jinbe frowned a little, Hatchan speaking up in a soft voice.
“You do remember she’s half-human, right?” Hatchan asked uncertainly.
Arlong huffed, rubbing Melody’s back as she babbled into the now thoroughly wet clump of hair in her mouth.
“Half-human—bah!” Arlong rolled his eyes. “She’s mine now, no half-nothin’!”
Wherever Melody came from… well, it didn’t matter anymore. She was his now.
81 notes · View notes
howlingday · 6 months
Text
Ruby: when I was a kid, I had a favorite teacher. He was great, he always stood up for me when bullies were, y'know, being assholes to me or whatever.
Ruby Then he was gone next school year, and the rumor was that, uh, he, apparently, was doing bad shit with some of the other students. Like, real bad shit.
Chat: What did he do?
Ruby: Uh, the kinda stuff that gets me in trouble with ToS for talking about, so I'll leave that at that. But, uh... Yeah, he was gone, and the rumor was floating around, but I chose not to believe it because my teacher was such an awesome guy.
Chat: You're just gonna defend him based on flimsy logic like that? Wow, you're stupid.
Ruby: Hold on, Chat. You. Guy. What did you say, and more importantly, who are you saying it to? Are you saying it to me, 23 year old Ruby, in the here and now asking you this, or are you saying this to dumb, little, stupid idiot 12 year old Ruby?
Ruby: Choose wisely~! Because one of your answers gets you banned for life and the other gets an "Oh, okay" from me. Choose. Now.
Chat: 12
Ruby: 12 year old me? You're saying that to 12 year old Ruby? ...Oh, okay. PSYCHE! YOU'RE FUCKING BANNED! BOOM! YOU'RE OUT OF HERE, MOTHERFUCKER!
Ruby: ...Honestly, I was gonna ban you either way, but, uh... Yeah, that just happened. And so did whatever happened to that teacher, wherever he is now.
Chat: Did that really happen?
Ruby: What, the bad thing? Probably. Not like I was there, on the sting operation or whatever it is they do to catch bad people. Bad people THAT ARE ALSO really good teachers.
Chat: You're really gonna ban someone for that?
Ruby: Look, Chat. You gotta understand; Ruby when she was 12 years old was a fucking idiot. She thought Bakugans would've replaced Pokémon. She tho- (Cracks up) She fucking thought Duel Masters was going to be Yu-Gi-Oh! Come on, dudes!
Chat: That's mean.
Ruby: I don't think you guys understand; this isn't a democracy. I am... I am your king. Your god. Your god-king. And I am a fucking despot. This... This is tyranny, and ain't nobody gonna end my reign.
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Text
I just want to say. I voted for Yang "protecting" Blake from Ruby. Out of character for me? Yeah. But consider:
Weiss sticking her weapon in Whitley's face, despite all the outrage, was a just a gag. And we all know crwby are just shit at writing comedy post v3. Their brains got infested with terminal unfunny brainworms that sucked out the ability to make a good joke from their system. They couldn't make edgy jokes anymore because they realized they had to pretend to be a progressive company, but that inclination to be meanspirited as fuck is still actually there inside their souls it just shows itself in a different way. And honestly listening to Kerry Shawcross trying to squirm his way through an explanation for it was much funnier than the joke itself so I'll give them that. Yeah sticking a gun sword in the face of a 14 year old is totally character development material I definitely can tell you went to a very professional and important school for writing Kerry (and he did which is also much funnier than the original gag also). Did it mess up Weiss' character? Not really she's always been a bit of a self centered trigger happy bitch. Slay ig!
Yang protecting Blake from Ruby? One moment that destroyed like... 2 characters. Blake for being the pussiest ass bitch and Yang for being herself post v4. "But you just don't understand abuse victims!!!" Yeah maybe but Blake was introduced to us as someone who could 100% hold her own. She didn't need to be reduced down to someone who needed to be protected from scawwy angwy Ruby. Imagine v1-v3 Blake in your head and imagine Ruby yelling at her, could you imagine she would have reacted the same way? I don't even need to explain Yang like truly what kind of behavior is she exhibiting where she implicitly choses protecting Blake from literally nothing over her little sister. Um !
Now look... It's common to reduce a ship down to the "soft uwu baby who needs to be protected" guy and the "I will protect you" guy in fanon. We've all done it. In our heads. We've all blurred canon so hard for a ship we enjoyed. Ever read one of those middle aged woman eroticas or just any fic on ao3? It's normal. But when canon starts doing that that's when you know youre fucked, son. MKEK are so bad at writing romance all they did was take the common woobification of a couple that fandoms do everyday and made it canon. They literally just made fanon canon.
Also the abuse victims excuse is dumb as hell they wanted us to laugh at Weiss threatening her abuse victims brother with physical violence (when we know canonically Jacques was not above threatening his children and hitting them if he was pushed to that point <3) but now I've got to sit here and act like crwby gives a fuck about portraying victims just because of a ship. Booo.
They didnt do this with Weiss' character btw. We see her get uncomfortable around conflict but never to the extent of what they did with Blake. The difference? Weiss isn't a part of a popular fandoms ship.
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whotf-atemywaffles · 7 months
Text
Maroon
pairing: jerimiah fisher x reader
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summary: Reminicing about a previous relaitionship that was perfect,
when the morning came we were cleaning the incents off your vinyl shelf, when we lost track of time again, the night before it previously happened laughing with my feet in his lap “like you are my closest friend” you said slightly intoxicated, “How’d we end up on the floor anyway?” you say,
“The Cheap ass screw top rose, conrad got, Thats how” You remarked, I see you everyday now,
i chose you, the one, i was dancing with, from cousins to new york, inside or outside, shoes or no shoes. jeremiah fisher was the only one who had caught my eye. Jeremiah Fisher had a magnetic presence that drew everyone's attention. From the moment we met, I couldn't take my eyes off him. We danced together, laughed together, and explored the streets of New York City when he would come to visit. It was as if we were meant to be, and I chose him above all others.
i recall late august sitting on the beach looking up at the sky and it being the same colour as the bugandy on my t-shirt, when you’d spash some sort of red alchoal into me, and how the blood would then rush to my cheeks and ide be so scarlet…no, maroon, I remember how the waves crashed against the shore, the saltwater mist on my skin, and the warmth of the sun on my face.
everything was perfect,
everything was perfect, but little did I know that the silence came and our time together was limited. As the seasons changed, so did our relationship. How the hell did we lose sight of us again? The once vibrant love we shared began to fade, resulting in you sobbing with your head in your hands, ant that the way shit always ends? and we found ourselves drifting apart. you were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway, “we were like carnations people thought were roses” I feel you no matter what, Like the rubies that I gave up.
I still remember the taste of the ocean on your lips as we kissed under the summer sun. The way your laughter filled the air, and the warmth of your hand in mine. It's those moments that I hold on to, the ones that remind me of what we once had. But as time passed, the cracks in our relationship began to show, and we lost sight of the love we once had.
I Lost You, The One I was Dancing with, In new york, no shoes,
i looked up at the sky from my cruddy littleapartmentt, and the sky was just like it was that night, Maroon
It's funny how memories can transport us back to a certain time and place. i mwan i practically wake up with your memory, over me, its a real fucking legacy, to leace, i mean I can still feel the warmth of the summer sun on my skin and the taste of the ocean on your lips. But as I looked up at the sky from my small apartment, I realized that things had changed. its just the way things go.
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My Final Set of Creations until TTPD is released
🤎🩶🖤🤍
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🎶: Maroon (+ I Can Do It With A Broken Heart)
And I chose you
The one I was dancing with in New York
No shoes
Looked up at the sky and it was
The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me
And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was
The mark they saw on my collarbone
The rust that grew between telephones
The lips I used to call home
So scarlet, it was maroon
When the silence came, we
Were shaking blind and hazy
How the hell did we lose sight of us again?
Sobbing with your head in your hands
Ain’t that the way shit always ends
You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway
Carnations you had thought were roses
That’s us
I feel you, no matter what
The rubies that I gave up
🖤🤎🍷🩶🤍
🎙️: Taylor Swift
💿: Midnights, 2022 (+ The Tortured Meows Department), 2024
📷: Getty Images/#Grammys2024
🖌️: @karma_archers__istheblackdog/Me
🖤🤎🎶🩶🤍
🎶: Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
Track 10
🖤🤎🎶🩶🤍
🎶: Hits Different (+ My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys)
Oh, my, love is a lie
Shit my friends say to get me by
It hits different
It hits different this time
Catastrophic blues
Movin’ on was always easy for me to do
It hits different
It hits different ‘cause it’s you
(‘Cause it’s you)
I used to switch out these Kens, I’d just ghost
Rip the band-aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw
Freedom felt like summer then on the coast
Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings
And I never don’t cry (And I never don’t cry) at the bar
Yeah, my sadness is contagious (My sadness is contagious)
I slur your name ‘til someone puts me in a car
I stopped receiving invitations
🖤🤎🕛🩶🤍
🎙️: Taylor Swift
💿: Midnights, 2022 (+ The Tortured Meows Department), 2024
📷: Getty Images/#Grammys2024
🖌️: @karma_archers__istheblackdog/Me
🖤🤎🕛🩶🤍
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jrob64 · 8 months
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Silly Songs With Killian - a CS Modern AU One-shot
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You can blame @sotangledupinit for this silly, but sweet, little story! She posted a prompt on Discord which caused my muse to jump to attention, and I wrote it in two days. If you're not familiar with the Veggie Tales videos, you'll still be able to enjoy this, but do yourself a favor and check out the songs on Spotify here. You don't have to be a kid to enjoy them and I guarantee they'll make you laugh!
Special thanks to Kit for making young Henry look even younger for the pic set, Mary for being my beta, and Krystal for being a second set of eyes for the Silly Songs lyrics and also for the pic set I created. It pays to have wonderful fandom friends!
Summary: After a frustrating and exhausting day, Emma Cassidy is relieved when her little boy, Henry, is entertained by a gorgeous musician at a restaurant, giving her a chance to sit back, relax, and enjoy the music (and the view!) It gets even better when the singer, Killian, sings some of Henry’s favorite Silly Songs from his favorite videos, Veggie Tales. 
Rating: T
Words: 3946
Also posted to Ao3 and ffn
*********
It’s been one hell of a day. It wasn’t supposed to be this exhausting, but of course my ex, Neal, had to complicate things.
I was looking forward to going wedding dress shopping with my future sister-in-law Mary Margaret and her other bridesmaids, sipping champagne and giving my input on each of the possibilities. It was going to be so much fun.
And then...remember the saying that was popular many years ago - shit happens? Well, Neal can be used interchangeably with shit - they’re one and the same.
It was his scheduled weekend with our three-year-old, Henry, which was one reason why Mary Margaret chose this day. Then on Friday, almost an hour after Neal was supposed to pick Henry up at my apartment, he sent me a text: Something came up. Can’t make it this weekend. Tell Henry I’m sorry.
Apparently he turned off his phone after sending it, because he didn’t answer any of my increasingly volatile texts - eighteen of them, to be exact - or phone calls. I had to sit Henry in front of the television so I could go into my bedroom to leave some choice words on Neal’s voicemail.
Fortunately (or unfortunately for my sweet little boy) Henry is used to being let down by his father. In the eighteen months since we called it quits, Neal has skipped out on more weekend visits than he’s kept. I guess being a lying piece of shit takes up way too much of his time and he can’t spare any for his son.
Also unfortunately, all of the people who usually babysit for Henry were unable to watch him. Most of them were included in the shopping trip, my brother David was busy because he was painting the living room of the house he and his fiancée just bought, and Ruby’s Granny was off bowhunting with her new beau. (Bowhunting with her beau has been a running joke ever since she left a week ago.)
So instead of enjoying a carefree day of shopping with Mary Margaret, Belle, Ruby and Elsa, I had to keep an active, inquisitive toddler entertained in one bridal shop after another. We were all relieved when he finally fell asleep in the third shop, until the manager woke him up by screeching about how he was going to drool on the green velvet upholstery. That cost her any business she might have had from us (though in all honesty, her gowns were all hideous and looked like something only the Wicked Witch of the West might wear.)
Eventually, Mary Margaret said ‘yes to the dress’ in the fifth shop late in the afternoon, then we all decided to get an early dinner at a nearby restaurant that serves kids’ meals and has outdoor seating. If Henry has to spend one more minute inside today, I think he might have a complete meltdown.
After placing my order and getting Henry situated with the provided coloring sheet and obligatory four crayons, I hear someone speaking into a microphone and look over to see a guy standing on a small stage with a guitar. A very, VERY attractive guy.
“Good evening, everyone,” he says, and my jaw drops at the sound of his British accent. “My name is Killian and I hope you enjoy the music tonight. I do take requests. Feel free to sing along or dance in this nice, open area in front of me.”
“Oh, wow!” Belle gasps. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he, Emma?”
My jaw snaps shut and I turn to look at her. Seeing her sly smile, I teasingly say, “Why are you asking me? We all have eyes, you know.”
“Yes, but we all have significant others, too,” Ruby adds, which is completely unnecessary but, sadly, also completely true.
While my self pity begins to set in, the guy - Killian - strums his guitar and launches into the Eagles classic “Take it Easy”. Henry, who by this point has scribbled all over the coloring sheet, somehow managed to break his crayon into at least four pieces and, judging by the color of his teeth, took a bite of it as well, looks up with bright eyes. Since I allowed him to kneel on a chair instead of trying to strap him into a booster seat, he takes advantage of it and hops down.
Before I can chase after him, he makes a beeline for the open space in front of the admittedly gorgeous singer and begins jumping around in what passes for a three-year-old’s version of dancing. I sigh and start to get up, but Mary Margaret stops me with a hand on my arm. “Let him go. He’s been very good all day and deserves to burn off some energy. Besides, he’s only a few feet away and we can see him clearly from here.”
It doesn’t take much convincing for me to heed her advice. If someone else can entertain Henry for a while, I’m not going to complain.
When the song comes to an end, Killian acknowledges the smattering of applause and plays the extremely recognizable first chords of “All Right Now”. Henry doesn’t miss a beat, throwing himself around like a rag doll while all of us at our table, as well as most of the other diners, laugh delightedly at his exuberance.
By the time Killian is in the middle of his third song, “Old Time Rock and Roll”, our food arrives and I face the dreaded task of dragging my son back to the table to eat. I nibble at my fish and chips until the song ends, then dash to the makeshift dance floor to cajole Henry. When he shows the expected resistance, Killian chuckles and helpfully says, “Go with your mum, lad. I’ll play a slow song that’s not as much fun for dancing.”
True to his word, he croons the song “Everything I Do, I Do It For You” as Henry acquiesces and comes back to his seat to shove French fries into his mouth as fast as possible. It might not be a good song for Henry’s style of dancing, but Killian’s smooth voice singing the beautiful lyrics is sending pleasant chills down my spine.
Another song with a slow tempo follows, during which my little man polishes off his fries. But when Killian starts “Footloose”, all bets are off and Henry is back on the dance floor with a chicken nugget squeezed into both of his chubby fists.
After we finish our meals, Belle, Ruby and Elsa leave to spend the rest of the evening with their boyfriends. Mary Margaret lingers, telling me she’ll stay to keep me company, because she’d rather not have to help David clean up his painting mess. We don’t want to take up a table, so we move to some empty seats along the edge of the patio from where we can still see my little dancing king.
“You’d think his battery would run down soon,” Mary Margaret comments.
“Are you serious? That kid is like the Energizer bunny, plus he’s been cooped up in stuffy dress shops all day. My money is on the singer wearing out before Henry.”
She’s uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes. When she finally speaks, she says quietly, “He really is very handsome and seems like a nice guy.”
Her statement is out of left field and I’m confused. “Who?”
“The singer - Killian,” she clarifies.
I narrow my eyes at her. “What’s your point?”
“No point. I was just making a comment,” she shrugs, all innocence.
I don’t believe her. Mary Margaret is the queen of set-ups and wears the crown proudly. She introduced Belle to Will, Ruby to Jefferson and Elsa, well, she introduced Elsa to Victor, but that didn’t work out very well. Elsa met Graham on her own.
“I’m not looking for someone to date, Mary Margaret. I’m still dealing with my idiot ex and trying to concentrate on raising my son not to follow in his father’s footsteps.”
“I understand, but…”
And it’s at this point I resign myself to the fact she’s going to spout some argument that’s going to weaken my resolve not to date.
“If Henry had a really good male role model in his life, it would help you in raising him to be a gentleman.”
“Seems to me David does a pretty good job of that, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I know,” she sighs, “but between working, getting the house ready and planning the wedding, his time with Henry is very limited.”
“The house will be ready before you get married and the wedding is in less than five months. After the honeymoon, he’ll have more time.”
“Oh, but then we’ll have children of our own, and you know how much time that takes.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re pregnant, Mary Margaret?”
‘’What?” she gasps. “No! I’m just saying…”
“I know what you’re saying and I hear you. If the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t be opposed to dating him, but I’m not gonna try to force something to happen.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a date for the wedding, though?” she presses.
“Henry will be my date. He’ll be very dapper in his little tux.”
“But…”
“No buts, Mary Margaret. I don’t want to be set up with someone just so I don’t look pathetic at your wedding.”
We both fall silent as we watch Henry continue to dance in front of the bemused musician. Glancing at the time on my phone, I realize he’s been at it for well over an hour and isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. It’s beginning to get dark and I know I’ll have to wrangle him into the car before too much longer for his bath and bedtime.
I feel a little sorry for Killian, though. Nobody else has taken him up on his offer to dance, despite his repeated invitations. In fact, most of the diners aren’t paying attention to him at all. I hate to take his number one fan home, especially when I’m able to sit back and relax while listening to some seriously good music.
“I’m going to take a little break and then I’ll be back,” Killian announces, lifting the guitar strap over his head.
“Well, I guess that’s my cue to take Henry home,” I say to Mary Margaret.
“I suppose so,” she agrees. “Let me say goodbye to him and then I have to be on my way, too. According to his text, David is anxious for me to see how the living room turned out.”
We both stand up and move toward the stage, but I stop in my tracks. Killian is squatting down in front of Henry, listening to him with a huge smile on his face. I don’t know what Henry is saying, and I’m not sure Killian will be able to understand it anyway. Henry has an extensive vocabulary for a three-year-old, but I listen to him with ‘mom ears’, which means I can actually decipher what he’s trying to say.
When we reach them, Killian looks up at us and whatever I was going to say flies right out of my head. From a distance, the man is handsome. Close up, he’s nothing short of breathtaking. Carefully trimmed scruff covers a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, his cheekbones would put every male model to shame, and his dark hair is swept back from his forehead with a few rogue strands hanging down enticingly. Even his slightly pointed ears are adorable.
But it’s his eyes that shut down the functioning part of my brain. To say they are blue is like saying the sun is a tad bit warm, and the way the waning light catches them makes them shine like sapphires. I’m aware that my mouth is hanging open like a fish on dry land, but I can’t seem to make it form actual words.
“Hello, Killian. We’ve been thoroughly enjoying your music tonight, even if we haven’t been showing it as much as this little guy.”
Thank God for the natural chattiness of Mary Margaret.
Killian reaches out to ruffle Henry’s sweaty hair, then stands up. “I’m very happy to hear that,” he says in that beautiful, lilting accent. “I was just telling young Henry here that I’ll play some special songs for him after the break.”
I finally find my tongue. “Oh, but I was coming to tell Henry it’s time to go home.”
My little con artist turns his baby browns on me. “Please, Mommy. I be a good boy, I pwomise.”
That’s just great. Now if I take him home, I’ll have to forfeit my Mom of the Year award.
Mary Margaret laughs. “Well, Henry and Emma may be able to stay, but I really have to go.”
Why did she emphasize my name so much? As if I don’t already know.
She hugs Henry and me, tells Killian goodbye, and winks at me as she passes by. Even without trying to set me up, she’s setting me up.
I look back at Killian, who finishes chugging a bottle of water and grins at me. Reaching out to take my hand, he shakes it and says, “It’s nice to meet you, Emma, and little Henry.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Killian. Thanks for entertaining my son tonight.”
“It’s been my pleasure. I love how uninhibited kids are, and how joyful.”
“Well, his day certainly didn’t start out joyfully at all.” I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m still boiling about what Neal did to his own son, especially when this stranger seems so happy to spend time with him.
“No?” Killian questions. “May I ask what happened?”
I glance down at Henry, not wanting to bash his no-good father in front of him. He’s happily lining up little stones he collected along the edge of the patio, oblivious to the conversation going on above him.
“He was supposed to be with his dad this weekend, but he canceled. Again. So Henry was stuck shopping for wedding dresses with us all day.”
“I see.” He ponders for a second. “Would that wedding dress be for the lovely lass who just left…or someone else?”
“Yeah, it’s for Mary Margaret. She’s engaged to my brother.”
“I’m very glad I was able to make Henry’s day better, because his dancing did the same for me.” We watch Henry play, babbling to himself. “He seems like a happy little lad,” Killian observes.
“I do my best, but as a single mom, I make a lot of mistakes.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Love. All parents make mistakes. It’s a good thing kids have perfect aunts and uncles,” he says with a smirk.
“So, are you an imperfect father or a perfect uncle?” Am I really flirting with him right now?
“I have two nieces, so that would make me the latter.”
“Do you get to see them very often?”
“Aye, they live just a few miles from me, so I spoil them as often as possible. They’re my brother Liam’s girls.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re originally from the U.S., if you don’t mind me saying.”
He chuckles again, rubbing his finger behind his right ear. “We were born in England and lived there until I was fourteen, then my father took a job here so we moved across the pond.”
“That explains the accent.”
He nods and checks his watch, blowing out a breath. “I should probably get back to my set. Will you allow young Henry to stay for a few more songs?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Sure. What’s another fifteen minutes in the grand scheme of things?”
A genuine smile splits his face. “Excellent! I think he’ll particularly like the next three or four songs I play.” He looks around and grabs a nearby chair from an empty table, setting it down beside me. “Won’t you please have a seat, Emma?”
“Such a gentleman,” I say, sinking onto the offered chair.
“Oh, I’m always a gentleman.”
Somehow I don’t mind him flirting with me.
He steps back on the stage, slips his guitar into place, and positions himself in front of the microphone. After giving me a wink, he announces in an overly accented, squeaky voice, “And now it’s time for Silly Songs with Killian. The part of the show where Killian comes out and sings…a silly song.”
I burst out laughing at the very familiar words. Henry is addicted to Veggie Tales, the wacky shows featuring talking fruits and vegetables. I love them because they teach good moral values; he loves them because they’re hilarious. His favorite part of every video is Silly Songs with Larry the Cucumber, which we watch over and over and over again. Apparently he conveyed this obsession to Killian.
Killian closes his eyes, somberly strums his guitar, and sings, “Oh, where is my hairbrush? Oh, where is my hairbrush? Oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh wherrrrrrrre…is my hairbrush?”
Henry is jumping up and down like a kangaroo on a pogo stick, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! It’s the Lawwy song! Keeyin is singin’ the Lawwy song!”
Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, I look around at the half-dozen people at the tables, who are looking at the musician like he’s lost his damn mind. Bunch of sticks in the mud. Lighten up.
But Killian isn’t bothered by their response, or lack thereof. He smoothly transitions to another of Henry’s favorite silly songs. “Oh, everybody’s got a water buffalo. Yours is fast, but mine is slow. Oh, where’d we get them, I don’t know. But everybody’s got a water buffalo, oooooo.”
Henry is beside himself with excitement. He’s running around in a circle, waving his arms in the air in his best impression of a rabid chimpanzee.
Killian moves on to sing a few lines of “I Love My Lips” (I can’t help thinking I’m quite fond of them, too), followed by “The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything”.
By this time, the diners have relaxed, laughing and clapping along with the crazy tunes. Meanwhile, my son has finally worn himself out, collapsing in a small heap in front of the stage, looking up at Killian adoringly.
“...and we’ve never been to Boston in the falllllll,” Killian concludes with a flourish and takes a deep, dramatic bow.
I dig into my purse and pull out a twenty dollar bill. I always try to watch my budget, but I’ll skip getting a chocolate caramel latte for a few days to compensate. It’s worth it for what Killian did for Henry tonight.
Walking up to the stage, I drop the bill into the tip jar, smiling up at the singer. He’s between songs, so I say, “Thank you so much, Killian. You’re my hero for entertaining Henry tonight. It was great and he loved it, didn’t you, kid?”
Henry jumps to his feet. “I weally did, Keeyin! I love Lawwy songs!”
“What do you tell him?” I prompt.
“Thank you, Keeyin,” he says obediently.
“You’re very welcome, lad. I play here again in three weeks. Perhaps you can stop in and see me again?” He’s talking to Henry, but he’s looking at me.
“Can we, Mommy?” Henry pleads.
I know we probably can’t. This restaurant is all the way across the city from where we live, plus it’s pretty expensive. Mary Margaret footed the bill today, but twelve bucks for a kid’s meal is a little steep and I won’t pay it. I don’t want to say any of this though, because my tired son is walking a thin line between lingering happiness and an emotional collapse. So I use the parental standard, “We’ll see.”
Taking Henry’s hand, I say, “Thanks, again, Killian. Have a good evening.”
Something that looks like slight panic flashes through those gorgeous eyes of his and he speaks into the microphone, “I’ll be back in five, folks.” He slides his guitar around to his back and steps off the stage, placing himself directly in front of me. “Emma, if I may be so bold, and if you’re not already dating someone, would you consider going out with me?”
“Wh-what?” Apparently, getting asked out by the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on renders me a bit stupid.
He lightly wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me further toward the side of the patio for some privacy. “Even though we just met, I would really like to get to know you better.”
“But…but you don’t even know my last name.”
“What is it?”
“Cassidy.”
“Mine is Jones, so now we know each other a little better already.”
I stare at him, trying to think of a single reason why I should say no to him. “I…we…um…Henry and I, we…uh…we come as a packaged set.” That’s the way, Emma. Use your kid to try to scare him off. And you did it so gracefully, too.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m really quite fond of your son. That’s not a deal breaker,” he states firmly. He still hasn’t let go of my wrist and now he’s rubbing his thumb over it. I find I don’t mind at all.
“I…”
“Mommy, potty!” Henry announces.
Oh, geez. Killian has to get back to his set and Henry has to pee. I’m running out of time.
Dropping Henry’s hand, I rummage through my purse, trying to find a pen. “Got a piece of paper?” I ask, mid-rummage.
Killian dashes to his guitar case and pulls out a piece of sheet music, returning with it just as I locate the elusive pen. He plants his foot on a chair and slaps the paper down on his knee so I can scribble my number on it.
When I finish, I lift Henry into my arms and take off to find a bathroom. Before disappearing inside the restaurant, I glance back at Killian. He’s still standing where I left him, a broad smile on his face as he grips the paper in his hand. Raising my free hand, I give him a little wave and he returns it.
After I’ve had time to think about it, I might regret giving him my number. Right now I just have to keep my kid from peeing down the front of my dress.
*********
A year ago, Killian Jones was my hero for giving me a chance to relax while he entertained my son. Five months later, he was once again my hero by being my date to Mary Margaret and David’s wedding. Today, he’s still my hero because he’s continuously proving that not all men are incomparable asses.
On the contrary, he’s everything I dreamed a man should be, once upon a time. Killian Jones is talented, intelligent, funny, considerate, masculine, caring, loving, passionate, and a great conversationalist, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous (if I didn’t mention that, it would be a crime.) He’s the total package and I’m head-over-heels in love with him.
Oh, and he’s a fantastic role model for my little boy. I usually hate to admit when Mary Margaret is right, but in this case, she was unequivocally correct. He and Henry absolutely adore each other and it makes my heart so happy. They do everything together - read books, play Star Wars with lightsabers, build block towers, climb trees, ride bikes, you name it.
And Henry loves singing silly songs with his soon-to-be stepfather. What more could a mother want for her son? Except, perhaps, a sibling.
Killian and I are working on that…and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.
*********
Thank you for reading. I hope it brightened your day!
Tagging: @hookedmom​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @cs-rylie​​​​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​​​​ @grimmswan​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​​ @paradiselady19​​​​​​ @xarandomdreamx​​​​​​ @motherkatereloyshipper​​​​​​ @julesep3026​​​​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​​​ @pawshapedheart​​​​​​ @vampcoffeegyrl23​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @captainswan4life85​​​​​​ @bluewildcatfanatic​​​​​​ @eleveneitherway​​​​​​ @elfiola​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​ @julieenchanted-swans​​​​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​​​​ @andiirivera​​​​​​ @djlbg​​​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @huntressandlioness1​​​​​​ @anmylica​​​​​​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​​​​​​ @pirateherokillian​​​​​​ @cocohook38​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​ @laschatzi​​​​​​ @zaharadessert​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​ @yasbio2015​​​​​​ @lyssapup27​​​​​​ @nachocheese-itsmycheese​​​​​​ @singersdd​​​​​​ @mie779​​​​​​ @undercaffinatednightmare​​​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​​ @jackieorioncat​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​ @bdevereaux-blanche​​​​​​ @soniccat​​​​​​ @searchingwardrobes​​​​​​ @jarienn972​​​​​​ @apiratewhopines​​​​​​​ @softkilly​​​​​​​ @goforlaunchcee​​​​​​​ @kymbersmith-90​​​​​​​ @captainswan217-blog
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coolyiooo · 2 years
Text
BAKUGOU KATSUKI X FEM READER (SMUT )
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‼️WARNING‼️:quickie ,some choking, hair pulling, creampie, 18+
Quirk: teleportation
It was a normal day in patrol with your angry ass boyfriend,he was yelling at you for something stupid, it didn't mean he was mad at you but it looked like he was, people usually were confused why you chose him to be your boyfriend when there are other people "better" than him because he seemed to not treat you how you should be treated but in reality he treated you very good, you used to think his yelling was annoying as hell and how he Got mad at everything and everyone for dumb ass reasons, but after awhile you saw that he grown to be a better man and even if it's a bit weird to say you liked how he didn't care if you were a girl,boy,tall,short,fat,skinny,black,white,hero,citizen,old,young or whatever, he hated everybody equally, and didn't really give anybody special treatment, except for you ofc , and then you two got forced to work together and be in the same agency for top secret reasons and that's how y'all got close and started to fall for one another, you then started to think whenever he yelled or got angry, it was adorable as shit mixed with a hot ASF.
Back to him yelling at you in public, he had this angry look in his eyes with furrowed eyebrows but you were mostly paying attention to his eye color, and shit were they a beautiful red, they honestly glowed more whenever he was mad, looked like rubies or some shit , you looked like you were in a trance while the bitch was yelling at you, tbh you were so whipped you didn't even hear wtf he was saying,not like it was important or anything.
"HEY ARE YOU LISTENING?!!" he yelled out "huh?" You said ".....did you not hear a word I said?..." He said trying to keep his temper from exploding (🤡) ".....no" you were still focusing on his eyes and beauty, "WTF HAVE YOU BEEN DOING THEN? I'VE BEEN RAMBLING AND YOUR NOT EVEN LISTENING?!" You sighed and said "I'm sorry kat I was just....I meannnn..... Your just so damn beautiful" he looked at you with a bit of confusion and shock,tbh you were a big flirt when it came to katsuki, you l o v e d to make him flustered ASF, I mean he's used to being complimented and stuff but he's not used to being called beautiful or getting hit on, usually people are too scared to do it in person for fear of being blown to bits.
"W-what the fuck" he said "did you stutter? Wow I didn't even say much " you smiled and started to chuckle "GGGRRR SHUT UP !! I didn't stutter!your hearing things dumbass!!!" "You say something? I couldn't hear you I was too distracted by your beauty kat~" you smirked with eyes full of love,you honestly couldn't help yourself when it came to his eyes, he just started to blush "awwwwwww your so cute when your flustered I can't really contain how I'm feeling right now.... I think I gotta sit down" "what the hell are you on?" "I'm not on anything 🙄 I'm just so I'm love with you like damn you don't understand how beautiful you actually are" "STFU! " he said while blushing, you really liked seeing him blush while angry it just made things worse for you and you wanted to kiss him, so you did , you just grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a passionate kiss,at first he made muffled growling noises while you kissed him but then he finally gave in and kiss you but he made it more aggressive and you pulled away and smile at him.
"I think your really on something" he said with furrowed eyebrows, "I'm not you idiot... But I do wanna be on you " you said poking his cheek, he started blushing again and started to get angry again,before he could say anything,you put your hand on his shoulder and teleported to your penthouse "sorry kat I just couldn't help myself " you then pushed him on the couch and got on top of him and started to kiss him aggressively, he knew what you were trying to do and he pushed you away "WTH?? we're still on patrol hrs rn!" "Just a little quickie kitty" you kissed him again and he pushed you away "hell no!" "Don't worry kat, other heroes are also on patrol duty, everything's finneeeee plus nothing serious has been happening lately during patrol" "argggg" "come on..pleaseeee" "mmMM" you got closer to him "I just wanted you to rail me...my bad that I wanted to have sex with you.....alright if you don't wanna we can go back to work" you tried getting up but bakugou put his hands on your hips, you looked at him and saw he was looking down, contemplating
Before you can say anything he flipped you two over, now your back was on the sofas backrest cushion and he was in between your legs, he looked deeply into your eyes "just a quickie...got it?!" You stared at him with a smirk while putting your arms around his neck "finally knocked some sense into you, yes?" "If anybody needs some knocking sense out of them it's you, dumbass" "then knock me up" your smirk grew, he flipped you over so that now your back was facing his, he put a hand over your throat and made you look at him with an arched back,he had dark eyes "don't tell me what to do" he said sternly "pleasee" you said smiling, he stared at you deeply with strong eyes, you stared back "your lucky I love you.."
He then quickly used his other hand to go down your pants to rub your clit fast, his other hand still on your throat to force you to stare at him,you started to sigh in satisfaction while you rocked your hips with his fingers, he took his fingers away and started to lower his pants to free his dick, he lowered your pants as well and started to rub his dick in between your folds roughly while also rubbing your clit with his shaft, it felt great but you obviously wanted more, you moaned a bit as he grunted, he felt you become more wet and ready for him, he then stopped and angled himself to your cunt.
Without a second thought he plunged himself deep into you, his hand still on your throat, you moaned in satisfaction after aching for him for too long "I swear asshole if you don't fuck me to next week-" he tightened his grip around your throat so you couldn't speak and then he went in and out of you roughly and quickly "DONT TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" He let go of your throat and put both his hands on your hips so he could faster, you moaned loudly "YES KAT....JUST LIKE THAT!" you gripped on the couch cushions, basically squeezing them, he started to grunt and groan loudly "fucking.... shit!" He got one of his hands to pull on your hair to force you to look at him, it hurt a lot but you loved it , and he knew it, he then let go and started to hug you from behind ,still pounding into you,his chin was on your shoulder and one of his hands went back to your throat but his wrist was basically in between your breasts and his other hand was on your stomach so he could feel how deep he was inside of you, he grunted loudly "fuck (y/n)!! Feels too damn good! ..DAMNIT!" you moaned loudly "PLEASE KAT! CUM INSIDE ME!" You were also about to cum and you tightened yourself around his cock even more "cum with me (y/n).." he said softly ,you nodded, he then went faster as you moaned his name over and over again "KATSUKI!" and he screamed "(Y/N)! DAMNIT DAMNIT SHIT! FUCK YEA!" and finally he came inside you deeply and you came all over his dick,you felt eachother twitching aggressively
He was panting hard and so were you, he then put his hands on your hips and pulled himself out slowly, he liked seeing his cum drip outside your cunt, while he seeing his cum drip out, you felt empty now but then he turned you around gently and kissed you passionately, your hand went and grabbed his hair and the other feeling his arm muscle as his hands were on your cheek and hip, your make out was for a couple second then he pulled away "tf you'd have to get so horny in the middle of the day?" "I can't help it you make me crazy for you...or something...I know I make you crazy too" he rolled his eyes but he hugged you with a hint of blush in his cheeks,you didn't tease him about it and kept it to your self and hugged him back "well we gotta go back to patrol duty... We've been gone for almost 10 min" he didn't move an inch and you tried to get out of his grasp but he's just too damn strong, you kept telling at him to let go so you could go back to work, he's the one who said it had to be a quickie 🙄,but you eventually cleaned yourselves up and went back to work and he was more touchy later the day. God you loved him and he loved you.
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ficbrish · 4 months
Text
WIP Wednesday
[17Jan2024]
This is from a one shot that's part of my Kinktober collection
"Stay A While"
Act I, early "relationship" (just started sleeping together)
[cw - light spice]
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Astarion’s droll tone had a hint of excitement in it. She’d started to leave but froze in her tracks at the sound. Vistri hoped he hadn’t seen it; how eager she was for more time.
“Surely the others are waiting.”
Astarion clicked his tongue lightly and shook his head slowly, “Back to camp. How droll! What’s the rush, darling?” His pointy-toothed grin charmed Vistri more than she’d like to admit.
She crossed her arms, suppressing the smile that crept onto her face, “I’m guessing you have other ideas?”
Light filtered through the trees, adorning Astarion in spotty shadows. Sun hit the side of his face, making one of his eyes sparkle like a rich ruby as the other was cast into darkness. He held up his hands innocently and made a show of looking side to side, “I don’t see any search parties.”
Vistri raised her brow, tentatively interested, “Say there were. What would you hope for them to find?”
That was his cue to walk towards her, “Be careful of the way you talk to devils, girl. You might entice one. The sun may be high in the sky, but you’re never safe alone with a monster.”
The word, monster, stuck itself in Vistri’s mind like mud on a boot. She tried to scrape it off and put it on Astarion, but she couldn’t. She looked into his mischievous, slanted eyes and said, “I’m not afraid of you under the moon either.”
He uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around his waist, “You little fool.”
His mouth was so close to hers, Vistri felt dizzy, “I’m no fool.”
Astarion smirked. She tried to move away but he held her forearms with a firm grip.
“You’ve only survived thus far because I chose it.”
She continued to share his gaze fearlessly. There was so much misplaced trust in her actions, if it wasn’t foolishness, it had to be self-destruction.
Vistri laughed at him. A real bitchy, mocking laugh, “Oh, you chose it?”
He grabbed her throat and tilted her head back with his thumb, “Yes. I chose not to rip you apart. Every. Time.”
“Pity.”
“No, not a pity,” he purred dangerously, “You’ve been so worth it.”
Vistri felt herself surrender and leapt at his kiss. Someone who felt as good as he did thought she was worth keeping alive. She’d do anything to keep it, give him anything he asked.
“Oh, shit! Sorry!” she remembered herself and their unwritten rules made of habit. They fucked, but they weren’t anything real. It was just a bit of fun. Even though it was never said out loud, it was understood. Their kisses were only meant for teasing, their touches only meant for petting. She wasn’t supposed to love him at the end of her lips. Unless it was for pretending. And all of those activities belonged in the evening.
“Don’t be sorry,” he muttered, bringing her mouth back to his.
She felt her knees grow weak. Stupid knees. Backstabbing cunts.
“I kissed you,” she protested.
“And I kissed you back,” he went in for more.
Vistri eventually broke away again, “But we don’t kiss in the mornings.”
“And I usually don’t drink in the mornings,” he spoke into her neck, “But I think… I think we can do whatever we want. Don’t you, darling?”
He could take her blood, “You can have my blood.” He could take her body, “You can have my body.” He could even take her heart, “Just make it hurt for me, lover. Would you?”
He grabbed her hair by the fistful and pulled until she cried out.
“Oh, I can make it hurt, if that’s what you like.”
She tried to nod, but his grip was too tight, so she just begged, “Please.”
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