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rustedhearts · 1 year

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Lipstick Stain (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!reader)

summary: Steve poses with a model for the cover of Sports Illustrated, and jealousy rears its ugly head.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

the steve collection

warnings: slight angst (barely), jealousy issues, public sex (sort of…it’s in a dressing room), smut, more casual dominance.

new york city, june 1992

The JFK airport is packed with people—recent travelers, anxious vacationers, jittery tourists—but worst of all: swarms of paparazzi. You and Steve have barely made it through baggage claim before you hear the shutter of cameras, and spot the blinding lights of their obnoxious existence.

“Fuck’s sake,” Steve growls, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, the other hand holding his suitcase.

You follow his line of sight toward the other side of the airport, where the paparazzi are clumped together, eager and ready. You lean into his solid side, still warm from your embrace on the plane, and fiddle with your carry-on zipper.

“Just ignore them.”

Steve rolls his eyes, turning his head to press a quick kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, they can ignore my foot up their ass,” he mutters grumpily.

You crack a smile, cheeks swelling with warmth from his kiss. You spin around to face him, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes beneath his backwards baseball cap.

“Come on, Steve, no fighting before the shoot. They need this face all pretty and blood-free for the magazine cover,” you coo.

Steve huffs, moving your hand from his hair and bringing your knuckles to his mouth to kiss them. He usually becomes overly affectionate when he’s nervous, and he's been riddled with knee-bouncing nerves since Mikey told him about his newest job. Instead of cracking noses and bruising jaws, Steve would be posing in front of a camera for Sports Illustrated. They were willing to pay a handsome fee for his face on the next cover.

“Still can’t believe I agreed to this shit,” he groans, pausing to grab your suitcase as it rolls by on the belt. “Mikey owes me big time.”

Steve snatches the carry-on from your hands and slides it over your suitcase handles, doing the same with his duffel before kicking both suitcases to roll behind him. You follow after, inhaling deeply as you approach the paparazzi. The speed of their shutter snaps increase rapidly as you close in.

“You’re going to look very handsome, Steve.”

Steve scowls, though you’re sure it’s just because of the white camera lights growing brighter as you approach the exit. Discolored sparks follow your every blink.

“We’ll see about that.”

♡ ♡

It was a fast trip from the hotel to the location for the magazine shoot. You barely had a chance to put something nicer than a pair of jeans and a sweater on before you were being hauled off in another car, and now, standing in the doorway of the bustling room, you wish you'd taken just a second longer.

The model, Steve's photo partner, is all legs and silky blonde hair. She saunters around the room, getting her makeup touched up, taking delicate sips of Coke from a bendy straw. You immediately reach to fix your hair and pull at the hem of your sweater, something colorful and fuzzy from back home.

"Big time. Big time, Mikey owes me," Steve grumbles from beside you, scowling at the sight of the busy room.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington! We're so glad you're here, thank you so much for doing this.” A shorter man stumbles toward the two of you, reaching out to shake Steve's hand and introduce himself.

Steve nods curtly, flashing a tight-lipped smile. You pinch his side, and when he glances toward you, you motion to the dark Ray Bans still sitting over his eyes. His eyes roll as he snatches them off and hands them to you. His hand slips beneath the hem of your sweater against your back, running his hand comfortingly against the skin of your lower spine. You shiver at the warmth of his touch.

"This is my girl," Steve announces to the shorter man gruffly, pulling you flush against his side.

The man nods jerkily at you, lowering into an unnecessary sort of bow that makes you press your lips together to hide a smile. Steve has a tendency to make everyone around him feel much smaller than they were. He bleeds possession and rage, and anyone around him can feel it.

"It-it's nice to meet you," the man stutters, uttering a name you barely have time to process before Steve is interrupting:

"Look, man, you're not expectin' me to wear something stupid, right?"

Wide eyes turn to Steve immediately, a red flush reaching the man's cheeks. Behind you, the blonde model sinks into a folding chair and tips her head back for her lips to get fixed. They delicately paint a coat of blood red across her mouth.

"Oh, n-no! Of course not, Mr. Harrington. Besides, next to her," the man steps aside to motion toward the blonde, "it's hard to look stupid, am I right?"

He snorts a chuckle, but Steve's eyes narrow and his lips curl into a thin line. You're selfishly glad he didn't join in on the perverted laughter, but you're sure he still agrees. Steve adjusts his hold on you, sliding his hand around to rest on your hip, arm around your waist.

"Let's get you changed."

♡ ♡

"Thank fuckin' god someone has a brain around here."

Steve finishes knotting the ties on his satin shorts, the same crimson color he wears in the ring. A pair of white socks pull up to his calves, high-tongued shoes tied expertly around his feet. He looks just as he does right before a fight, though a little more anxious—only Steve would find it more nerve-wracking to stand in front of a camera than to possibly lose his teeth.

You smile from your seat on the leather couch in his dressing room, watching him push his hair back against his head. Without a shirt, his shoulders look broad, his biceps thick and bulging, his abdomen perfectly cut and defined.

"See? I was right. You look very handsome, Stevie."

Steve sighs, eyes flittering your way quickly. He straightens up and rolls his shoulders back.

"Thanks, baby. Y’ got a book in that thing, don’t you?” He points to the purse slung over your shoulder (another gift from him) and you gaze down at it, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah…”

Steve strolls over toward the couch, stopping when his legs graze your knees. He carefully bends, planting his hands on either side of you to crowd you in. Your breath hitches when he cocks his head to fit his mouth over yours. His breath is warm and scented of mint and Marlboros. You can see his half-empty pack sticking out of his jeans on the floor.

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you out a’ my sight.”

You huff, head tipping back to cast a pout at him.

“Steve, m’ not a child.”

He hums throatily, mocking your pout with a jut of his lip. Steve tips his chin down to quirk a brow and fix you with a stern, but gentle look.

“No, but I gotta have my guardian angel around to keep me safe, don’t I?”

You giggle, bracing your hands on either side of his face to pull him down and press your mouths together. He licks into your mouth, filling it with that tobacco and mint taste, eliciting a lustful heat in your stomach.

Just as you squeeze your thighs together, a harsh knock raps at the door. You jump to back away, but Steve instantly snatches the back of your hair to keep you attached. A squeak comes from your throat, muffled by his mouth. The knocking grows louder, and Steve growls, barely removing himself from your mouth before barking:

“What?”

“U-um they’re ready for you, Mr-Mr. Harrington.”

Steve huffs, pecking a few more firm kisses against your mouth; transferring his hold on your hair to your jaw, to squish your cheeks together while he peppers wet kisses all over your face. You giggle and squirm, batting him away with light smacks against his bare chest.

“Steve! Come on, they’re waiting!”

♡ ♡

If you could go back in time and beg Steve not to leave the dressing room, you would—because now you have to sit across the room and watch him get covered in lipstick stain kisses, from the leggy blonde of all people. Your fingers curl around your book, knuckles whitening as she travels down his abdomen and smears red all over. They oiled him up, and now he’s slick and glossy and covered in prints from another woman’s mouth. He’s graceful about it (as graceful as Steve could be) and keeps his arms above his head and away from her while her mouth wanders.

“Yeah, make sure you get the back, honey,” the photographer exclaims, watching from his position on the edge of the white backdrop.

Steve keeps a blank face while she makes her way around to his back, beginning at his shoulders first. He drops his arms and looks off toward you—sitting erectly in your folding chair with your legs crossed and your jaw clenched tight—and drops his left eye in a wink. You direct your gaze toward your book, pretending to read about Jay Gatsby and his wealthy longing, all the while you listen to the sound of her noisy kisses touching your boyfriend’s skin. You couldn’t stop your eye from twitching, or your stomach from clenching and twisting uncomfortably.

You’ve never been so jealous before. You never had reason to be before. It was always you and Steve—you and Steve at training, you and Steve at dinner, you and Steve at home, you and Steve on the street. You never let each other wander, and you suppose there had never even been a chance for another woman to swoop in, because he was always with you. Touching you, kissing you, pulling, groping, squeezing. Steve is generous and unabashed in his affection. Sometimes, it feels stifling. But right now, you wish he was smothering you with his heavy, solid weight, and covering you in kisses.

“Alright, now let’s try you standing here.”

You peek over the top of your book to watch the photographer point to the middle of the backdrop. Steve strides over.

“And Holly, honey, you stand behind him. I wanna see your hands around him, maybe some of your hair behind his shoulders.”

You huff under your breath and flick the page over noisily. You’d like to see your hands around her neck—

“That’s sexy. Steve, look into the camera—perfect.”

You glance over again, and your heart flutters and sinks all at the same time. Steve looks hulking standing there in front of the photographer, broad and big, staring with that dead-eyed glare into the camera. His jaw is tight and defined, his cheekbones sharp, the moles on his neck exposed but covered by the dozens of red kisses plastered on his golden skin. And her scarlet, manicured nails press into his pecs, trail up to frame his face, glide along his biceps. Steve never moves an inch, his expression stagnant, but his lack of reaction does nothing to lull your urge to kill. But you’d be lying if you said the way he flexes and glares doesn’t make your cheeks get hot.

“Alright, these look great. Thanks, Steve.”

You stand from your chair instantly, closing your book and clutching it to your chest, waiting for Steve to come over to you. But instead, he breaks away from “Holly,” and she follows after. You watch her flip her hair behind her shoulder and stick out her hand for introduction, and when Steve takes it, your knuckles crack around your book. Whirling around on your heel, you stomp toward the dressing room and close the door, flopping on the couch with a huff. You know it’s stupid, you know you’re being petulant—but you couldn’t help it.

“Jesus Christ.” The door flies open and slams closed in quick succession, and Steve appears still smeared in red with a sharp glare.

“Never doin’ that shit again. I—hey. What’s wrong with you?”

You tuck your chin into your hand on the edge of the couch and look off toward the wall, away from Steve. You give a shrug.

“Nothing,” you mumble.

Steve shuffles to a stop, hands finding his hips.

“You’re pouting.”

“M’ not pouting.”

His head falls back with an exasperated eye roll, shoulders drooping with a heavy sigh. You glance at him over your shoulder, still covered in lipstick, and stick your nose in the air.

“Well, glad to see you get to take those home with you.”

Steve blinks, brows creasing.

“What the hell are you—ohhh,” he pauses to scoff cruelly. “That’s what this is about, hmm?”

You turn your attention to the tops of your toes, playing with your laces, knees tucked to your chest.

“About what? I didn’t say anything.”

Steve takes a step toward the couch, and even in your periphery you can see the smug look on his face.

“Aww. You feelin’ jealous, baby?”

You squirm, scowling down at your laces. You tug at one harshly.

“No.” Your voice wobbles.

Steve tips his head to find your gaze, continuing his slow and steady ascent toward the couch. Every step makes your heart thump faster.

“No? It didn’t get you all riled up, angel? Seeing someone else touch me?”

Your breath turns shallow, falling in stuttered gasps when Steve stops and crowds you, mirroring his earlier position with his hands on either side of you. You drop your feet to the floor and he steps in, angling so his lips brush your cheek. You can smell her on him.

“Did it make you mad, pretty girl? Hmm?” His voice rasps in your ear and makes you shiver.

“It’s n-not funny, Steve,” you whine quietly.

Steve guides your hair behind your ear, knuckles grazing your cheek, thumb rubbing into the bone.

“Oh, no, baby, s’ not funny at all. We gotta fix it before your face gets stuck like that.”

“You’re making fun of me.” Your frown deepens, and Steve chuckles, pinching your puffy lips.

“M’ not makin’ fun a’ you, angel. S’ sweet you get so worked up over me.”

Your lips smack disapprovingly, but before you can utter a retort, Steve stands to his full height again. Your eyes follow this time, head tipped back to watch him tower over you. He reaches out to wrap his hand around the expanse of your jaw, chin propped in his palm. His fingers bite into your cheeks deliciously.

“But you know you’re the only girl for me, angel.”

Heat blooms on your face and excitement bubbles in your belly, subdued by Steve’s mouth slanting over yours. It’s only after a few moments of smacking lips and gnashing teeth that Steve uses his hold on your face to lift you up. When you find your feet, he slides his grasp down toward your ass, cupping under the shape of it in your jeans to lift you up and around him, thighs clamping tight around his hips. A hiccuped gasp punches from your chest when he slams you into the wall, detaching from your mouth to attack your neck. Your fingers bury in his hair, tugging and feathering with urgency while he sucks your skin and applies pressure with his teeth.

“Take me out, angel,” Steve mumbles into your neck. “M’ all yours”

You reach down between your bodies and tug on the loose string of his shorts. When they’re loose enough, and you will yourself through the incoherency that Steve’s mouthing and sucking renders you under, you reach in and wrap your hand around his hardening cock. He groans at your delicate, warm touch, and you gasp when he slides out of his shorts and hangs over the band.

“Fuck, get these fuckin’ jeans off.”

He makes quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans, setting you down long enough to struggle with their removal. You’d laugh at his menacing scowl toward your jeans if you weren’t too busy staring at his throbbing cock, weeping excitement, dribbling from the tip. You whimper wantonly and Steve’s eyes snap up, finding encouragement in your needy noises. He snatches your jeans the rest of the way off and tosses them aside, plucking you back up like you’re nothing but air to press you back into the wall.

Your grip on his hair returns and tightens instantaneously when the weight of his cock presses into your cotton-clothed heat. It pulses with need and thankfully, Steve doesn’t let you wait long—he pushes your panties aside and sheathes into you in one deep plunge, pulling a low, mewling whine from your throat.

“Oh, there we go, atta girl. Look at me, look at me, yeah,” Steve mumbles, swiping your hair out of your eyes with a heavy palm, using the heel of it to lift your chin.

You’re starry-eyed already, lips parted to pant gasps that make his cheeks flush. You look so pretty when you’re all dumb for him. Steve gives a tentative thrust, and his lip quirks when you squeak.

“You know I’m yours, baby. M’ all yours,” he breathes.

“Mine,” you parrot quietly, mindlessly.

Your foreheads come together, his strong arms holding you up, cradling you, pulling you into him. His hair, soft between your fingers, sticky with hairspray from the makeup artist. You’ve nearly forgotten about the lipstick prints all over his skin, because the way he’s looking at you now makes you think you’re the only girl in the world. To him, you are.

Steve picks up speed, setting a rhythmic pace of push and pull. The bulbous head of his cock brushes your walls, squeezing and molding around him, gushing slick and staining his satin shorts. The insides of your thighs feel sticky and they’re starting to shake around his waist. Steve goes even faster and your face screws up, mouth hanging open in a silent cry. Every pump inside you sends you a little further up the wall, bumping and sliding. The crew and assistants are still packing up on the other side of the door, and it’s for this reason only that Steve clamps his hand over your mouth when you begin to whine.

“Shut up,” he snaps through his teeth, glowering down at you over that slanted nose. “Shut up. You wanted this, now you’re gonna fuckin’ take it.”

Every nerve in your body buzzes at his growling tone, his intimidating stare—the domination. Steve was always boss, and you loved every minute of it. Even though right now he was being cruel by punishing you to silence while hammering into you so hard that you felt your insides rearrange, you couldn’t help but feel like you were on fire.

“Feel that? Feel that cock in your guts, sweetheart? Huh?” Steve chases after your eyes again when they roll to the back of your head, head banging back into the wall as you grow delirious.

“It’s all yours, baby. You’re stuck with it, cause I’m not goin’ anywhere. So fuckin’ take it.”

Steve’s hands are incapable of fully silencing you, and your high-pitched squeals and cries filter through his fingers over your mouth. Yet you can’t bring yourself to care about much other than his cock driving into you at a furious speed. He worsens your conditions by pulling your hand away from his hair to guide it between your thighs. Like a puppet, he manipulates your fingers to press two together and swipe them along your slick, rubbing the pads of them against your swollen clit. Your cries sharpen and Steve’s eyes narrow.

“I said shut up. Y’ wanna cum? Huh?”

You nod pitifully, legs slackening around his waist while they turn to jello. Steve rubs your fingers faster over your clit while pistoling his hips.

“Then shut your mouth.”

You whine, but Steve takes pity on you and ignores it. You know if you were back home, and had ignored a direct command, Steve would’ve pulled out and left you aching until you begged on your knees for forgiveness. But right now, Steve was needy, and you were desperate; and he wanted to show you just how much you belong to him, and how much he belongs to you.

Steve presses your heads together again, huffing gusts of breath against his hand over your mouth. His face was starting to redden from the exertion.

“You gonna cum? Hmm?”

You nod again, nails biting into his biceps. Steve nods back, eyes screwing shut.

“M-me, too—fuck, baby. Fuck, you feel so good. C’mon, honey, c’mon.”

You spasm, feeling out of control of your own body as you contract and flutter around Steve’s thick cock. Warmth floods you as Steve groans—a low, gravely groan that rumbles through you and elicits goosebumps. When you were done spasming, you collapse—legs sliding off his hips, slumping against the wall, losing all feeling in every one of your bones.

“Jesus,” Steve chuckles, scooping you up, still lodged inside you, and carrying you toward the sofa.

He sinks down with you, allowing you to straddle him and rest against his chest. Cheek flush against his pec, you raise a shaky hand to pet at his chest hair absentmindedly, still catching your breath. Steve practically melts into the couch, head tipped back against the cushion while he runs his fingers down the back of your head.

“Were you really that jealous?” Steve snickers, and your cheeks warm again.

“Maybe…”

Steve tips his head down and kisses your hairline.

“Nah, you’re stuck with me. You’re the only one that’ll put up with my crazy.”

You snort a laugh. “That’s true.”

Steve pinches your thigh and you yelp, jerking in his lap to sit up and smile at him. You smear the lipstick on his cheek and smudge the shape of the model’s lips. Leaning forward, you press your mouth to the warm apple of his cheek—a firm kiss. You swear you feel him flush. He pulls you away gently by the back of your neck and nicks your chin with his knuckles.

“C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces after they heard all that screaming.”

♡ ♡

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oneshotnewbie · 7 months

Note

A jogger finds a phone and calls the cops. When they take it and put it into a zip back, they accidentally turn on the phone - revealing a picture of The Captain of the SVU and Reader?

Possible trigger warning: This one-shot includes the mention of blood and kidnapping, the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

William Jacobs ran across the Brooklyn Bridge at the same time every morning, trying to beat his best time. But today he desperately thought about turning back and skipping today's sports session - the weather was playing into his cards.

Despite all the negative voices in his head, the young man ran from the Brooklyn bridge to the Manhattan Central Park and back. At this early hour there were hardly any passers-by and only occasionally a few cars drove past. As he took his first step off the bridge, he was inspired by the release of happiness hormones and increased his pace.

William loved being able to look out over the East River and let his thoughts and feelings flow freely. His black hair flowed in the wind and was dampened by the drizzle, her ragged breathing evident in the chill of dawn. When he managed halfway of his way, he was panting like never before in his life - the cold air making it harder to force enough air through his lungs. The young man felt the slight sting in his side, but did not hesitate to stop.

It was not until his head moved towards the entrance of the Central Park that he saw something blue and shimmery lying on the ground. Confused, he stopped and cautiously approached the object, peering left and right to locate other people.

Startled, he jumped back and almost stepped into the street when he saw red-brown stains around it, some of them even splattered on the cell phone he had found. William did not even hear the car behind him screeching to a stop next to him and the car door being opened with an aggressive jerk. "Are you crazy? I almost ran you over!"

But the young man did not answer the older women. She looked at the black-haired guy and saw fear and disgust on his face. His shaky fingers pointed to the main reason he stopped, which was why the woman looked confused on the ground and shortly after promptly walked back to her car in shock. "We have to alert the police." he shouted in a shrill, abnormally bright voice. The stranger nodded her head and pulled her cell phone out of the glove compartment of her red car. She quickly tapped on her phone and held it trembling against her ear.

"Emergency call center, how can I help you?" A calm voice asked on the other end of the line, beginning to type on her keyboard to find out the location of the caller. "We found a phone." she spoke anxiously, earning a sigh from the 911 agent. "Mam, you know this is not an emergency, right?"

William looked confused at the device in the old lady's hand, and in his adrenaline rush he did not quite understand why the sigh was being given. So he quickly snatched the cell phone from her and continued the conversation. "Listen. Here is a cell phone lying at the entrance to Central Park, covered in blood splatters. I also recognize an original NYPD cell phone case."

“Which entrance are you at?” the woman's low voice slowly calmed his rapidly beating heart. He took a deep breath while trying not to let his mind sink into a hole of horror scenarios. He looked around, trying to figure out which entrance he really was at. "Fifth Avenue at the Plaza Hotel,"

"Do not touch anything. I will send you a unit."

ᕚ---ᕘ

The gentle rain pattered quietly against Olivia's bedroom windows and made her open her eyes just a crack wide. Her tired gaze glowered out and a hand brushed over her face as she watched the night slowly fade away. Her attention turned to the other side of the bed, her fingers curling into the cold sheets next to her.

Her fiancée was no longer lying next to her and she sighed heavily. She usually woke up before you almost every morning, kissing along your naked spine stroking her hand with pleasure over your sides before she remained on your bare hip, waking you up for another day. Olivia loved waking up next to you since she shared a bed with you and enjoyed every minute of it. But she respected your exercise routine in the early hours of the morning and was in no way offended if she started the day without you.

The brunette tried to close her eyes for another five minutes, but quickly abandoned the idea when her cell phone rang. A little angry, she felt around on the bedside table for the annoying-sounding device and answered the call. "Lieutenant Benson?" she sighed loudly, already pulling the blanket off her body.

The brunette, half asleep, rummaged through her closet for some clothes and ran into the bathroom to get ready. "Central Park, I will be right there." When she ended the conversation, she tried to reach you on your cell phone to take you home, but her attempt came to nothing and she did not think about it any further - you had already put your phone on silent often enough to avoid being distracted.

After quickly downing a cup of coffee to wake herself up, she pulled her coat off the hook and slipped through the door into the day's events. The rain worsened on the way to the crime scene, washing every possible mess back into the sewers. When she got out, Amanda and Fin were already standing at the cordoned off area that had been created to protect the evidence from the rain. "What do we have?"

"A blood-spattered cell phone," the blonde expressed, gratefully accepting an evidence bag from another officer. She carefully placed the found object in it and handed it to her boss. "A cell phone? Why were we called?" the Sergent and the detective shrugged and raised their hands in question. "The caller thought it was a cell phone belonging to one of our colleagues, which is why we were notified because a significant amount of blood was found next to it."

Olivia nodded, looking worriedly at the phone in her hand. You had the same case around your phone, she had given it to you as a small gift. She turned it around so the screen was facing her and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the scratch on it. The brunette had almost caused the same one on your phone when she saved you from a bullet a couple months ago.

She always wanted to have it repaired but you would not let her - it was a memory for you. "Liv, are you okay?" Finn asked worriedly, watching as the color suddenly drained from his best friend's face. She nodded in response, looking back from the evidence to the paving stone. A good amount of blood that was not easy to ignore. "Yeah, it is just.."

The tough woman could not finish the sentence right away. The screen turned on on its own, showing a reminder notification on the display. Underneath you could clearly see two smiling faces smeared with light gray paint as a background image.

She recognized the image immediately. Olivia shot it herself when you were recoloring your bedroom together. Olivia swallowed hard, the phone shaking in her hands as she tried to suppress her rising panic. “It is y/n’s. It is her phone."

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azrielslightintheshadows · 6 months

Note

I would like something for Rhys again

I was thinking of something where maybe the reader, rhys, cass, and az were on a mission, and the reader was fighting in a really high place, but then she ends up falling? like what happened to Gwen Stacy in Spider-Man, but then Rhys arrives in time? (or not, it's up to you whether the ending will be sad or not)

(if it's a silly request or if you don't like it, you don't have to do it)

Between you and danger.

Rhysand x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings; angst, mentions of death and blood.

Ever since the king of Hybern was defeated weird Attor-like creatures appeared in Prythian, they killed anyone who came into their path and ate them, only leaving their bones behind. The high lords were panicking, sending their best warriors to hunt the beasts, most of them never returned and those who did were wounded so bad that the others had to kill them to end their agony.

Those creatures were approaching Velaris and Rhysand was losing his mind. He worried about his people, the reconstruction of the city was finally almost done, and another attack would break everyone’s spirit. Last night he decided that him, Azriel and Cassian would go on a mission together to find and end those things before they reached Velaris.

You begged him to let you go with them. You knew that your mate wanted to keep you safe, but you could fight, and those he wanted to protect were your people too.

“You know that I can help, Cassian has been training me for ages. I saved all your asses multiple times during the war.” You growled and Rhys pinched his nose.

“I know sweetheart, but we don’t know what these things are and what they can do, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.” His voice was soft an indication that if you pushed him harder he would let you go with them, and that’s what you did.

You crawled on his lap and nuzzled his neck. “Come on baby, let me come with you. I want to defend our court like a proper High Lady.” You whispered.

With a sigh he said okay, and you jumped off him to prepare your leathers and weapons for tomorrow.

You were standing at the top of a mountain, your mate and his brothers were flying around to locate the beasts. You heard a hissing sound behind you and you grabbed your sword. They are here. You mentally told Rhysand and turned around to face them. Hideous winged figures, twice your size appeared, black holes where eyes should have been and silver fangs that could tear your skin in a blink. You gripped your sword harder and stared at them ready to attack.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel appeared behind them, and the bloodbath began.

You were covered in blood, your body ached as you swung your sword and beheaded another one. Your mate and his brothers had chased some of the beasts deeper into the woods, but they were still in your view. You glanced at them to make sure that your mate is okay and didn’t notice another one of these things flying towards you. You caught its movement barely in time to lift your sword and slash its neck. The beast fell on you with great force, and you tripped falling into the forest. A scream left your lips as you glanced at the hard ground rapidly moving closer and closer to you, you closed your eyes and blocked the bond not wanting Rhysand to feel your pain. You heard someone -your mate crying out your name, the scream so heartbreaking and loud that the mountain trembled, and strong arms grabbed you. Then you heard a loud crack and your body shook, pain filled your senses and you gasped for air.

“No no no” Cassian cried out. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of the sky. With a groan you stood up and then you saw him…

Rhysand was laying beneath you his head on a rock and a pool of blood around it. He caught you but he was late, he didn’t have the time to manoeuvre both of you towards the sky, so he put his body between you and the ground.

“No” you screamed and grabbed his head “Baby… Rhysand please, open your eyes… stay with me” you cried.

His chest was barely rising and Azriel grabbed him, his shadows engulfing them both and they disappeared, Mor appeared a few minutes later and winnowed you and Cassian to the house of wind.

Azriel was standing in the dining room, his scarred palms rubbing his face, you had never seen him like that. “He is in his old room with Madja” he said. You nodded and ran to the room.

“How is he?” you asked Madja who was applying a cream on his head.

“He is going to be fine. Let him rest his body needs to heal” she replied and gathered her stuff.

“If you need anything send someone to get me” she said and left the room.

You didn’t bother to get the blood off, Rhysand was covered in it too, so you just laid next to him. You hugged his waist and laid your head on his chest, tears streamed down your face and sobs shook your body. You fell asleep like that and woke up when a big palm caressed your hair. You lifted your head and glanced at his beautiful face, his violet eyes were staring back at you and a bright smile decorated his face.

“How are you feeling?” you asked and caressed his jaw. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m okay” he croaked and kissed your palm. “I though I lost you” you whispered and once again your eyes watered.

“That’s what you get when you scare me to death, consider us even” he smiled.

You scowled and he chuckled.

“I will always stand between you and danger sweetheart” he whispered and kissed your forehead “Now I think it’s time for a bath you stink” he continued and wrinkled his nose.

“You stink too” you made a gagging noise to tease him. “Then I think you should let me accompany you.”

And trust me when I say that you really enjoyed that bath ;)

Hope you like it! Requests are open.

#acotar #acotar series #rhysand #rhysand x y/n #a court of thorns and roses #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #acotar fanfiction #inner circle #velaris #night court #cassian #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel #azriel acotar

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wedonthaveawhile · 5 days

Text

Betraying the devil you know // Prologue

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Months. That's how long Marvolo Gaunt has been crushing the life out of you. One reckless decision was all it took to be dragged into his inner circle to pay for your sins. However, being his favourite informant has its perks—you hear whispers: a civil war is brewing among the Gaunt's.

Is it better the devil you know, or do you seek refuge in the arms of the enemy?

Working for Marvolo Gaunt had taught her enough to know when she was being followed.

It was the hooded stranger in a candlelit recess of the Leaky Cauldron. The shadow drifting across her path on the walk home. A silhouette eclipsing the moonlight as they stole a glance through the window into her cramped flat.

The domestic wards had obstructed all their attempts to enter.

Her boss had gone to great lengths to ensure she was cordoned off from the public. A museum display, reduced to nothing more than one of the polished trinkets in his collection—untouchable. Her identity had been erased and her life turned monotonous.

At the crack of dawn, she would apparate to him for a briefing. Following her shift at the inn, she would obediently report back the whispers on the wind before retreating home to drown his haunting voice in firewhisky. It rarely did the trick; he was omnipresent, slithering in and out of her consciousness without reprieve.

Deliver this package to table four at noon.

The minister's aide will be in tonight; keep an ear out for my name.

Keep your guard up. If my brother's men make contact, I'll have to slice open your pretty throat, just as I did to your sweet little frien—

"Was there much resistance?"

An approaching figure tore her from the depths of her memories and propelled her back to the present. The tone of voice was serpentine smooth, similar to Marvolo's, but watered down—less tempestuous.

Harder to gauge a solid read.

It made her nervous.

"She didn’t even scream," bewilderment spiked through a wizard's Cockney accent, "even when we shoved her in the trunk. It was fucking bizarre."

“Never let anyone take you to a second location”, Poppy had warned when they first moved to the city. A nugget of widsom from a gentle soul who never imagined they would need it. It churned her stomach to know this was how she was honouring her memory, disregarding all the anxious advice she'd ever imparted.

Her muscles tensed as light footfalls began circling the chair to which she was tightly bound, a sharp pain searing through her shoulders from where her arms were restrained at the small of her back.

Intermittent bursts of crimson light pierced through the thick fabric draped over her head as the tip of a wand subjected her to thorough scrutiny.

The Gaunts struck fear into the hearts of many; their name a cautionary tale mothers whispered to their sons to keep them on the straight and narrow.

This particular Gaunt was a ghost story. A strategist, always orchestrating his moves from the shadows. Unlike his brother, he never graced the pages of the Prophet's socialite section, nor tarnished the ones dedicated to the escalating crime rates.

Patient, inscrutable, and lethal.

The bag was whisked from over her head and she blinked rapidly, the sconces nailed to decrepit walls swimming at the edge of her vision.

Her life had been torn from beneath her feet because of a foolish lapse in judgement. As her focus honed in on Ominis Gaunt's levelled wand, she prayed she hadn't made another mistake.

"You let us abduct you, didn't you?"

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zprites · 11 months

Text

June TMNT All 4-1!

It's time. The man, the myth, the legend... It's Bayverse Raphael! This month's prompt came to me surprisingly quickly as compared to some of the previous months so I'm riding this high!

The lovely hosts: @turtle-babe83, @thelaundrybitch, and @leosgirl82 <3

Prompt I chose: “Well, that didn’t go as planned…”

Bayverse! Raph x Female! Reader - SFW

As always, the turtles and reader are both well into their 20s!

Enjoy! <333

Taglist: @turtle-babe83, @manduse, @morning-sun-brah, @crazysarah-98, @pacoholin, @iamdefinitelytheratking

Summer Loving

If words fail… She'll know what I mean If words fail… She'll just take my hand She sees me like no one else has If words fail… She'll understand When Words Fail - Brian D’Arcy James

"C'mon you slowpoke!" You called back to Raph, your voice reverberating off the walls of the sewer.

"You know I can easily catch up to you, right?" Raph said, keeping a modest distance between the two of you. You gathered he was being slow on purpose, probably because he wanted to let you win a race for once, but you weren't having it.

You knew what would happen if he caught up to you. So you goaded him on.

"I'd like to see you try, old fart!" You hollered before breaking out in a full on sprint, smiling widely as you rounded the corner.

You heard the telltale sounds of him rapidly approaching you, heavy footsteps breaking through your constant giggles until he was right behind you. He reached out and ran his fingers along your sides, knowing it was one of your ticklish spots, causing you to squeal and try to squirm out of his grasp.

"Raph! Let me go!" You managed to get out.

He didn't let up. "What was that you called me? An 'old fart'?"

"Okay, okay! You're not an old fart! You're a young one! A baby fart even! Please! I'm gonna pee!!" Tears welled up in your eyes as your cheeks quickly began to grow sore from the enormous grin on your face.

Thankfully he ceased his attack, allowing you to catch your breath. "So I'm a baby fart now?" He raised a brow ridge at you.

You slowly collected yourself before nodding. He let out a chuckle while shaking his head. "Suppose that's better than an old one."

"I don't know, you are kind of old." You teased.

"I'm only a month older than you. Besides, if I was really old, I wouldn't be about to do this." He promptly picked you up, easily settling you against his chest with a singular muscular arm.

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner. “Okay show-off. You made your point.”

He gave a breathy laugh as he set out further into the sewers, fully intent on carrying you the rest of the way.

Not that you were complaining. You planned for this after all, knowing after he caught up with you he would opt to hold you in his arms for the remainder of the walk, like he always did. You used to question it but always got a simple ‘It’s faster this way’, so you’ve learned over the years to just accept it.

After being away for five months at a time you found yourself wanting him to carry you at every opportunity when you were back home. Like now.

You decided to go out of state for your graduate program, wanting to further your education in data science at a gorgeous university located in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Thankfully you only had two more semesters left and with each break you came back to your hometown, staying with the turtles who graciously opened up their home to you since your family had moved out of the country during your previous semester. You used to live with April but since you began school in Colorado, she moved in with her boyfriend, Casey Jones.

You didn’t mind. In fact, you were glad you were staying with the brothers who you had come to consider family. You looked back on the night you met them with fondness - April trying to shield their hulking forms in her living room when you raided the kitchen at 2am, squinting at the massive mutants behind her in the dim light, tension filling the air until you asked them, in your sleep-addled stupor, if they wanted some late night nachos. Five plates of nachos later and the rest was history.

Over the past two weeks you spent as much time as possible catching up with the turtles. Leo joined you in yoga and meditation some mornings, Donnie enthusiastically discussed everything you learned while looking over your notes and textbooks (which you always let him keep), and Mikey was glad to have another person to paint with again.

And Raph, well anytime you weren’t hanging out with his brothers you could be found by his side. The two of you did everything together, from watching movies to singing along while he played his guitar. However one of your favorite pastimes was when the two of you would lay opposite of each other on his bed, him knitting while you read outloud, your legs resting against his. It was comforting, those moments.

Which did nothing to help your ever growing crush on the mutant terrapin. Soon after meeting him you were instantly smitten, feeling your heartbeat pick up whenever he glanced your way, or when he smiled at you, or when his hand would sometimes rest on your leg, running his fingers along your calf almost lovingly, causing you to stutter while you tried desperately to focus on the words you were reading to him.

Yeah, you were fucked…

Raph was your best friend and while the others would text you everyday while you were out of state, he was the one who always wished you a ‘good morning’ when you woke up for classes and a ‘good night’ when you headed to bed. At least once a week he would call you up when he knew you were in bed, talking to you for hours until you both inevitably fell asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. He made you feel special, as if you were the most important person in his life.

And you supposed you were, since he told you so earlier when he tried to kiss you.

Okay, in your defense you should have seen this coming, but you figured he wasn't interested in you in a romantic sense, so you kept your feelings to yourself all those years. You told yourself that his wandering gazes and lingering touches were nothing more than what they were, just fixed looks and accidental brushes of skin. Oh how wrong you were.

For not even four hours ago the two of you were cleaning up after dinner, alone in the kitchen. You made a passing joke, one that might have been self-deprecating in nature, but it seemed to have caused something in him to snap since he took you by the shoulders and…

Well, if you had the tiniest sliver of uncertainty in regards to his feelings for you before, you definitely didn't now.

He confessed everything, from how he was captivated by your laughter and smile from the very beginning to how you occupied his every waking thought. How he missed you when you were gone and always treasured every second he spent with you, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side.

If only Mikey chose to barge into the kitchen a few seconds later, not when Raph's lips were only centimeters away from your own.

You bit your lip as you thought about that moment, remembering the sincerity in his voice, the way his warm breath tickled your face, the feel of his rough skin on your cheek.

And you were hell bent on getting that kiss tonight, through hell or high water. You had just the activity in mind to set the mood just right for that to happen, and thankfully when you suggested it to him he agreed.

“We’re here.”

Raph’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He had stopped at the ladder that led to the more affluent part of Staten Island, shifting you in his arms as he grabbed the rung closest to him.

“Better hold on tight, spider monkey.”

Your full-bellied laugh rang through the tunnels as he began his ascent, your arms looping tightly around his neck. Soon the two of you were in the middle of the suburban street. Using the dark of the night to his advantage he kept to the shadows, keeping the two of you out of sight despite it being almost midnight. You pointed out a house to him and he moved towards it. A quick peek over the backyard fence confirmed that this house had what you two were looking for and effortlessly hopped the two of you over the fence with you still in his arms.

Raph finally put you down and you immediately slid out of your flip-flops, the cool grass beneath your feet felt heavenly as you walked closer to the large in-ground pool. You bent down and tested the water’s temperature with your hand.

“It’s a bit cold, but thankfully it looks like no one is home to hear you bitch.” You teased, standing back up to your full height.

He let out a huff. “I don’t bitch. You’re the one who squeals like a little girl when the water… isn’t…”

He trailed off as he watched you get out of the oversized shirt you wore over your swimsuit, letting it fall to the ground and fully revealing your bikini-clad body to him. You looked at him over your shoulder, a knowing gleam in your eyes.

“When the water isn’t what?”

His mouth opened and closed several times as his eyes raked over your form. If this were anyone else you would have smacked them or at the very least yell at them for ogling you, but this was Raph, and now that you knew how he felt, you felt nothing but flattery for the way he took the sight of you in.

“Hello? Earth to Raph…”

He blinked and shook his head, as if he was trying to get rid of whatever mental image he had conjured up.

“Just get in the pool.” He grumbled, already taking off his gloves.

You snickered and took a few steps back from the pool’s edge, knowing getting in the chilly water would be easier if you jumped in. So you did, cannonballing into the pool with a modest sized splash.

Surprisingly enough your body adjusted to the water temperature rather quickly as you began moving gently across the water’s surface, seeing that Raph was now busy removing his knee pads.

“Any day now.” You taunted.

You couldn’t hear what he said in response because you went underwater, doing a few flips as you waited for him to join you. Finally he lowered himself into the chlorine water, wearing only his shorts.

As you came up for air you were prompt splashed. Raph chuckled as you sputtered.

“Really?!”

You were met with another splash.

“Alright, that’s it!”

The two of you started an all out war, attacking each other with never-ending barrages of water. Soon you had to surrender as there was no way to win against his powerful sprays he produced with ease while you struggled to land any hits on him. He basked in his victory, letting out several whoops while you snuck around behind him, latching onto his shell and pulling back with all your might, effectively sending both of you under the water.

You broke the surface and giggled as you felt his hands come to your waist before he joined you, his own laughs intermingling with yours in the quiet of the night.

Eventually the amusement of the situation died down. The two of you stayed that way, simply enjoying each other's presence while crickets chirped in the distance. He was crouched in the five-foot deep water so that he was eye level with you, holding you above the surface since he knew your mouth would be submerged if you were to fully stand. Time seemed to slow down as you stared into his golden eyes.

You decided now was the time to lure him in.

“Did you really mean what you said?” You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Hook…

He seemed confused so you clarified for him. "What you said, back in the kitchen…"

Raph frowned while you felt the hands on your waist tighten their hold. "You think I would joke about something like that?"

You hummed, your own hands coming to run along his shoulders and upper arms in a repeated motion. "No, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

Line…

His breath hitched as you gave him a gentle smile. It took him a moment before he licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak but no words left him. This continued for a bit until he shook his head and let out a sigh. “Sorry, I’m… Having a hard time thinking right now.”

“That’s okay, take your time.”

Raph took a deep breath. “I just… There’s not much I can say that I haven’t already said.”

One of your hands moved to cup his cheek, running your thumb across the pebbled green skin.

His gaze never left yours as you felt him nuzzle into your caress.

“You’re everything to me.” His voice was low, as if he was afraid this was all a dream. “You… You have this way of making me feel like I really am someone; not just a giant mutant turtle, but an actual person. I know I can’t give you a lot, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you. And…”

He trailed off as his eyes glanced down to your lips so quickly that you would have missed it if you blinked.

“And…?” You breathed out.

“And I really want to kiss you.”

Got him.

"Well, good…" You leaned in a bit closer to him before continuing. "Because I really want you to kiss me."

His eyes widened at your admission. The seconds ticked by as you allowed him time to gather his nerves. Finally he began to close the distance between you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed your eyes once his lips were a hair’s width from yours.

“MOMMY!! There’s a strange lady in the pool!”

The two of you froze.

“And she’s kissing an alien!”

Shit… Guess someone was home after all…

In your periphery you could see a small boy running back inside the home and several lights turn on, most likely from his mother checking to see what all the commotion is about.

“Run?”

Just as the question left your lips, Raph picked you up once more and hauled the two of you out of the pool.

He gathered up both of your belongings in one arm while he held you with the other, getting the two of you back into the sewers as quickly as possible before being seen again, jumping down into the dark tunnels and replacing the manhole cover with a skill that came with years of practice.

In the dead silence of the sewers the two of you gave one quick look at each other before devolving into fits of laughter. He gently set you down before handing you your sandals and shirt.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned…” You jested while you tugged your shirt over your head, the hem reaching your knees due to how large it was. Beside you Raph was busy securing his knee pads back on.

He chuckled while you slid on your flip-flops. “No, but that ain’t stopping me anymore.”

“Oh?” You asked, mouth curving into a smile.

Raph tossed aside his gloves and reached for you, pulling you towards him before he promptly pressed his lips against yours.

Yeah, definitely worth the wait…

#tmnt all 4-1 challenge #fanfiction #bayverse tmnt fanfiction #bayverse raph #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader

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sewinrat · 5 months

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Yk the older sis hcs u did ??

Well i was wondering if u could write an kind of "what if" scenario where instead of luther waking up so damn late and stopping robert from getting killed what if instead she woke up and stopped ANY of the rats from getting killed and kept them as pets and started absolutely spoiling the ratmen

How would the rats and the other ivories react to this? :3

Awe this would be so cute if you ignore the fact that she is technically capable of watching them suffer in pain but she won't.

You hear a baam from outside your bedroom and sigh out, "Oh dear..." Standing up from your desk and stopping you from whatever you were doing, you went out of your bedroom. Walking down one of the hallway where the noise was coming from, you were met with Nyen cleaning out the inside of a ratman. Your nose scrunched up in displeasure and took out a spray bottle. "Nyen," you called out. Said cat flinched at the sound of your voice and turn around hesitantly.

Approaching him with the bottle in hand as he slowly backs away. Holding up the spray bottle you asked, "What did I tell you about murdering pests inside the halls?" You spray him. He hissed and his ears lowered either from distaste and mad. However he's not mad at you, he's mad at himself for not cleaning it faster. "Now shoo. I have things to deal with." He doesn't want to but he has no choice to obey so he went away grumbling.

After making sure he's gone, you then crouched down in front of the dead ratman, "Oh, you poor thing.. I'll fix you right up." You took his body in your arms, and bring him to your room where you'll be fixing all of his organs. Once you're done, you put something of yours on him to let everyone know that he now belongs under your name. You put him in a big enough cage so he'll recover safe for a while. But for now, you have somewhere to be. Sensing another chaos happening near the kitchen, off you go quickly before another one dies of Nyen. Sighing, you shook your head as you're walking at fast speed mumbling, "I know that Luther is stressed but doesn't mean that I'm not stressed from you murdering all these rats..."

Arriving in a dark room, you menacingly called out at the cat in front of you that is strangling another rat but this time with three eyes, "Nyen." Nyen immediately dropped the rat. Looks like he has learned his lesson on the last rat but that doesn't mean he's stopping. It was cat instincts. "Have you not learned?" You took out the spray bottle once again, "Bad kitty." You spray him as you uttered the words he doesn't like to hear. "Now go back to your bed," you pointed to somewhere that is not near your location or the kitchen. Nyen begrudgingly left, not wanting to push your limits. He knows how badly your punishments are so he's not wanting to experience it, ever.

After he left, you straightened your blouse and skirt, "Now, where was I...? Ah yes, the rat." Sharply turning towards the three-eyed rat who flinched, you pick him up from his collar like he was a cat... Ironic. "Stay still. This wouldn't hurt a bit," you imprinted your mark on him and now he's part of your pets. You let go of his collar, "From now on, you belong under my name, got it?" To which he nods rapidly, probably relief to not die. You walk off with nothing else to say. The ratman hesitates in following you but figured he'd try because technically he belongs to you so he's safe right?

You found Nyon on the ground and help him off the ground, dusting anything off. "Nyon, I'm gonna need you to find one of the rats and bring them to me. Use force, okay dearie?" Nyon trembles a bit but nodded obedient. You pat his head and send him off to find one of the rat.

In one of the kitchen you saw Randal and his pet accompanied with another scared ratman, this time in a sailor outfit. Calling out, "Randal dear! Would you be so kind to bring that rat to me?" Said creature perked up at the sound of your voice, you can hear him excitedly say sure and immediately dragged the - squirming - rat to you. The three-eyed rat behind you, hides his body using your figure from behind. "Good boy, Randal. I'll reward you later but now I need to do this," You put your mark on the squirming rat, to which he struggles more - not understanding what's happening. You sighed and told Randal to hold the sailor outfit rat down and to sit down while you search for the others. Randal nods eagerly and drag both Sebastian and hold the rat tightly in his hold. The three-eyed rat sweat dropped but doesn't make a comment in order to not trigger the happy boy with glasses.

It didn't take long to find another one. You found a rat with a crying eye hiding and you grab the hand that holds a weapon and took it away, "You should know better that I know every part of the house. Now be a good boy and stay still." He didn't however and instead continue to struggle. This makes you irritated but you managed to stay calm and took out a tranquilliser. You put the dart in his neck, and slowly he started to cease his squirming, making it easier to put your mark on him. Bringing him to Randal to also hold the 'crying' rat down in case he wakes up.

That leaves one more rat, you thought. It might take long because Nyon isn't physically capable in comparison to Nyen but he can manage. Looking over at Randal rambling to your rats with Sebastian looking pitifully at the three of them. You figured that you can cook for the family. Standing up and grabbing your apron, you get started. Making a perfect portion of food for your family while making a slightly larger portion for your rats.

It took a while but Nyon came back with an aggressive ratman that's wearing circular glasses who's trying to attack Nyon even if technically he's weaker. "Good boy, Nyon," petting the Nyon who enjoyed the pats that can make Nyen jealous, you grabbed the newest rat addition by the collar and immediately put your mark on it. "Oh! Before I forget," you snap your fingers and Jeff showed up with the ratman with a long nose from it's containment in his hold. Jeff put the ratman down on one of the chairs upright. "Thank you Jeff, you can go now," snapping your fingers once more and Jeff is gone.

"Now, all of you ratmen are now under my name. That means you can stop stealing our food. All of you better sit down and eat, okay?" With the threat lacing the last word, all the rats scrambled to take a sit at the table while Randal is just excitedly rambling to everyone about how good your cooking is. "Nyon, go get Nyen and interrupt my brother's sleeping. I'm sure he'll be needing my food when he sees the mess," you can see Nyon nods and leave the room as you put out the dishes to everyone present.

Soon, Nyon came back with Nyen and your brother, Luther who almost fainted at the sight of the ratmen before you explained that they now belong under your name. To which, he has no choice but to accept it. So they all joined in on dinner. Although the ratmen are hesitant on eating because they thought it might be a trick to poison them. All of them seem to also glance at each other, especially at the 'crying' ratman. However to no viewer's surprise, the one to eat it first is the rat wearing the sailor outfit who complain about being too hungry to care. Seeing as he's not dropped dead, they all then eat it slowly besides the sailor ratman. They were so cute so you gave each of them a pat on the head, some even lean into it. Slowly but surely they accept everything that's happening.

Randal whined out about wanting a head pat too since he helped in keeping them in check! Sebastian would rather not have you touch him but he can't have a say in it or anything for that matter. Luther can't say he doesn't mind you starting to like the ratmen but he can't stop you. However, he will try to cut the time if you are spending more time with them than your family. After all, family is important♡

Nyen is seething. He doesn't like that the ratmen are now part of the family. While he won't kill them, in front of you that is, he'll torture them more than with Nyon. Speaking of, Nyon is just there. He doesn't mind and he doesn't question your decisions. Plus, he might have a friend in the house with one of the ratmen.

In the end, all of you enjoyed the food you made. The company however? That's 50/50.

#ranfren #randal’s friends #ranfren x reader #x reader #ranfren ratman #ranfren ratmen #present day problem takeuchi robert #sincerely sewer rat #this is another one of my favourites no I'm not bias #maybe the longest fic?#marking like burn marks or accessories idk up to you #rushed i can't think of the ending

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neverniko101 · 2 months

Note

*You saw a stranger and she was looking at you* SwapSkitzoSans:Who are you?! *And she's scared* SwapSkitzoSans:*tears flowed* where.... I...

Firefly is rapidly approaching your location

He gives good hugs

Oh yeah it wouldn’t alert you otherwise so @hybridsans boop

Masterpost

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xxkitty13 · 6 months

Text

Circus Freaks

LA Buggy x Fem reader

Contains: younger reader (20’s), violence

Previous chapter- Part 1: The Carnival

Next chapter- Part 3

Previously: Buggy arrived at the island of Febe to raid it. However, a change of plans caused him to host a carnival alongside his circus. Will he hold up to his scheme?

Part 2: First Glance

The fair winds blew across the meadows. The grass danced across the open field, its bristles soft against the skin. Y/n sat underneath an oak tree. It's her favorite spot when she wanted to be alone.

Her adoptive parents were being difficult today. Work on the farm was already tedious and receiving more chores at home was enough to drive her crazy. It can't be helped, that's how things rolled on this island. Work, work, work, and more work. It never ended.

Even so, y/n doesn't complain. The wildlife is beautiful here, it gives her a sense of peace.

"Y/n!"

Breaking the silence, a figure slowly approaches her. Y/n turns her gaze to the voice. She squinted to see who called her.

"Lyla? Is that you?"

"Yes! I knew I'd find you here."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I'm here to take you back home." The woman grinned. It's her sister, child of her adoptive parents. She is of average height, with golden brown skin, and kinky hair. Despite being 5 years older, she acted like her mother.

"I don't want to go. Your parents are being hasty."

Lyla sighed and walked over to y/n. "I know how my parents are, but you're living under their roof. Until you move out like I did, you won't have to worry about the farm chores."

"Well, you're married now. Your husband has a good job and is able to afford a house."

"You don't have to get married to move out. That's something the older generation believes in. You can get a job or go back to school."

"But I can't afford school. Besides, working and going to college is not worth it. The jobs I qualify for won't cut it."

"You can't just stay with my parents forever nor out in this field"— Lyla grabs y/n's hand—"there must be something you want to do for yourself." She pulls her up from the ground and softens her look. "Come on, you're in your 20's. You still have plenty of time and energy."

Y/n looked at the ground. This is a topic she hated and her sister knew that.

"Look I didn't mean for you to mope. I came here for a different reason."

"What is it?"

"Carnival."

"Carnival?"

"Yes, didn't you hear about it? If you weren't isolated all the time you would have heard about it."

Lyla leaned closer to her ear. "And guess what? There's going to be a circus . . . you know what that means?" Picking her head up, y/n eyes widen. "That means you'll finally get to see a clown dummy," she snickered.

"A clown?"

Her chest warmed up rapidly as her heart fluttered. She couldn't believe it. There's an actual clown on the island.

"Now don't get too excited on me. Apparently he's a pirate clown. Strange isn't it?"

"What? A pirate who's a clown?"

"Look I said the same thing, but he's the real deal. Now come on, I'm taking you back to get ready."

She didn't have to tell her twice. Y/n face gleamed as they both made their way back to the town.

.°˖✧.°˖✧

Back in her room, y/n plopped on her bed. She grabbed the rag doll next to her. It is about 8 inches long. Its skin tone white, with bright blue fluffy hair. The doll had on a red jumpsuit with two white pompoms along the middle. It had a little red nose located in the middle of face with a giant smile. It is a rag doll of a clown- one of her priceless treasures.

Holding the doll up in the air, she smiled. Clowns are her favorite. It was the last gift her mother gave to her.

She closed her eyes holding the doll at her chest. Her mother always talked about the circus. She used to work as an acrobat before having y/n. In her stories, she would describe all the stunts she had to do. Dangerous ones that left her right leg damaged and finished her career in entertainment. She promised y/n that she would take her to one; sadly, that promise was broken when she passed away.

Despite being six at the time of her death, y/n remembers her stories. Since then, she dreamed of going to a circus. That dream would finally come true.

The sun was setting. It is almost time to leave. Y/n decided to wear a black above the knee dress. It had long flared sleeves and simple runched bust. Due to the chilly weather, she wore stalkings and platform boots.

The only bright colors she wore with the outfit were her red wine lipstick and nails. Her makeup was simple- her painted lips with winged eyeliner and mascara.

To top the outfit off, she wore the silver cross necklace of her father— paired with small cross earrings. The cross of the necklace was beautiful, embedded with small red and green jewels. Y/n didn't wear it often, but it felt right for the occasion.

She made her way out the house, but was stopped.

"Where are you going? You never finished cleaning the animal corrals."

She turned around to face the stern look of the middle aged couple.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ti-"

"Mom. Dad. Leave her alone. She's worked hard this season. A little break won't hurt."

"Lyla don't give her excuses," said Mrs. Ti.

Grabbing y/n by the hand, Lyla took her out the front door. "Ok nice chat, I'll bring her back soon!"

"Wait-"

"Eh let them go darling. I think we've stressed her out enough. Besides, you know the circus is in town."

Mr. Ti closed the door and gave an assuring smile. He walked to the living room and sat on the couch, his wife followed behind.

"Poor girl. I hope it will make her happy. She's been having a relapse lately"— Mrs. Ti sat next to her husband—"I don't think her time at the cemetery does her any good."

Holding her hand, "She'll be okay. Sometimes a wound needs to reopen to be healed again."

.°˖✧.°˖✧

"Wow, you dressed up today." Lyla laughed seeing her sister blush.

"You look pretty."

"Thank you."

"By the way, my husband is coming with us. You don't mind?"

"No. I like Walo. Being a third wheel isn't so bad with you two," y/n smiled.

The two sisters walked on the dirt road between two fields of apple orchards. The breeze rustle the leaves of the trees. The sound was soothing.

"Look you can see the lights from here."

Approaching the top of the small hill, the flashing lights of the carnival were seen. The small amusement rides held laughing children. The food stands filled the space with its delicious aroma. In the middle of it all was a huge red and white stripped tent. That's where the clown is at.

Y/n dragged her sister, fastening her pace. It wasn't long till both women made it to the front gate. It was larger than it looked. The place was fenced up with cheap wood, but it added to the ambiance.

The entrance fee was only a few berries. They soon entered and looked around the place.

"Hey girls!"

"Walo!" Lyla shouted.

The couple hugged each other and kissed. Y/n only cringed at the act. It was weird to see her sister engaging in PDA, but she can't help to feel jealous at the loving relationship.

"Hey y/n, how are you? It's been a while."

"I'm doing okay. It's nice to see you."

Walo placed his arm over his wife's shoulder and steered the women toward the food stands.

"I heard the hot dogs are delicious. We should try some."

The trio made their way to the hot dog stand. The line did not take long. They each received a six inch hot dog, wrapped in bacon and topped with condiments of their choice. The smell of the sandwiched wiener made y/n's stomach grumble.

"Okay girls, the show will start in 15 minutes. Do you want to head inside the tent or look around?"

"Um dear, I don't think I can walk around and eat this large hot dog. Let's go in the tent," Lyla said barely cutting down the size of the wiener.

They all laughed and followed the crowd of people entering the circus tent.

Y/n followed behind the couple, nervously holding onto her hot dog. She could feel her hands shake. Nothing could describe how she felt. The entrance was dark, she watched her step as her body felt jittery.

Shortly, bright white lights beamed onto her face. The music became much louder with each step. The large lights moved across the space above, hitting the people sitting on the benches.

"Come on, there's still front row seats." Walo grabbed both women and ushered them to the seats to their right.

The place was larger than she imagined. The ceiling held the tight ropes for the show, a height that just made her gulp. Did her mother have to perform at such heights?

On the other side of the ring, a man on an unicycle balanced a spinning top on a large sword. Fascinating to say the least. Children gazed in awe at the man, only boasting his ego. Distracted by the man, bubbles were blown on her face. The woman with a red body suit winked at her as she continued to blow bubbles onto the crowd.

"Ppfft." The couple snickered next to her.

Embarrassed by the act she looked away, taking a bite off her hot dog. Scanning the area, she saw familiar faces and even one she wished not to see. It was someone in her cohort, one that has been harassing her for years. Recently, for her hand in marriage.

Their eyes meet. The man, with long black hair and piercing blue eyes, stared her down. He gave a flirty smile back. He's handsome, she could not deny that, but there was no attraction. People called her crazy for rejecting him throughout the years.

Women around her age crushed on him. He is slightly built, tall, and had a strong jawline. Y/n knew it was also for his money. Daddy's money in fact. His father is known to be the wealthiest on the island. She wouldn't mind being with a rich man, but he's an absolute asshole.

"Ugh, there goes Yasi," she groaned.

"Don't mind him. We're here for you," Lyla assured.

It was then the lights dimmed and everyone vanished from the ring. Fog machines blasted white smoke across the floor. A large spotlight focused on the large curtain in front of the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the best show you'll ever witness. I am your host, Buggy, Buggy the Clown!"

A black silhouette emerged through the white smoke, his boots clacked onto the hard floor. A red-orange hat peaked from the cloudy fog, blue hair swayed with every step. That's when y/n watched intently, the red nose she's been dying to see glowed so brightly with the white light. Star-struck, her mouth hanged slightly open, too captivated to move an inch.

The audience clapped, Buggy roamed his eyes upon the people, feeling the praise. That's when he noticed one person who did not clap for his presence. He felt his blood begin to boil, but the look in the young woman's eyes was not what he expected.

The two locked eyes, his green orbs staring intensely onto y/n's. She gulped, feeling her face heat up at his heavy gaze. Buggy took a note of the woman, her face clearly flustered. This reaction was not something Buggy understood, it was probably his nose she stared at.

The stare down was brief, but it felt like an eternity. Buggy tried to brush it off; however, the woman's undivided attention sparked something inside of him. The clown quickly composed himself and continued the introduction.

"Before we begin this lovely spectacle, I would love to give thanks to Mr. Dun for providing us equipment and materials for this circus."

The townspeople cheered for their mayor, the spotlight beaming over him. The gesture was short as the light hovered back over to the clown.

"Now I hate to share the spotlight for so long, but I needed a small moment to feel humble. But that's over with, so please . . . let me hear your admiration once more."

The audience laughed at his cunning remark and clapped once more.

"Now let's begin with the show!"

People roared in excitement as the lights dimmed once again. Colorful lights flashed amongst the tent. With the booming music, four people consecutively backflipped across the edge the ring. Two men and two women with dazzling tight blue body suits waved to the crowd.

"These must be the acrobats," y/n whispered to herself.

Four satin blue fabric unrolled from the ceiling. Each acrobat climbed and twisting themselves up high from the floor. Astonishing core strength was used to maintain themselves from a brutal fall. The acrobats wrapped their ankles tightly with the fabric and hanged themselves upside down, spinning in place.

Act after act, the audience was amazed by the unprecedented talent. Sure each entertainer gave a spectacular show, but y/n could not advert her eyes from the pirate clown. Buggy noticed this and he loved every second of it. He had to get close to her.

It was time for a small break and Buggy re-entered the ring. "Was that not a show?" He raised his arms awaiting for the usual cheers. "Now, I need a little helper for this next part. Anybody wants volunteer?"

Young children shouted and raised their hands. Buggy is not interested in them whatsoever. He was hoping for his fan to desperately call out to him, but she did not. Disappointed at this he slowly made his way to her side of the ring, faking his watch for a volunteer.

"You."

He stood in front of her, holding his white gloved hand out. Y/n looked into his compelling eyes. The blue paint marks complimented his green orbs. His long bottom eyelashes overlayed the glitter under his eyes. Despite the clown makeup, she found him absolutely handsome.

The clown is obviously older than her, but with age, a new form of sex appeal blossomed. There is a strong manly sense to him— unlike Yasi. His jaw covered with stubble was something y/n never expected to find attractive, but such masculine features is what Yasi lacked. Breaking out of her trance, she felt everyone looking at her. She hated this amount of attention. Polar opposite of Buggy, who thrived on it.

"Stage fright? Don't worry, you'll be fine cupcake." Buggy gave her a playful, but sexy grin. This gesture melted her away, exactly what he intended to do.

She hesitantly grabbed his larger hand. He gently grasped it as he guided her to the middle of the ring.

"What's your name darling?" He sultry whispered.

"Y/n," she replied quietly. Buggy simply hummed at the sound of her voice.

She observed his features in the new lighting, to which defined his sculpted cheekbones. His clown nose hid such sharp features, but she didn't mind. Taking a closer look, its texture resembled that of an orange, very porous. It seemed real.

Cutting her thoughts, Buggy retrieved a white scarf from within his leather coat.

"For this next performance, our little volunteer will be blindfolded." As she began to protest, Buggy quickly went behind her and placed the blindfold. "Have trust in me, I won't hurt you," he chuckled at her ear. His voice raised goosebumps on her skin.

Two of his subordinates brought in a large wooden board. It contained black straps on each corner. If it was someone else, he would have used the good old spinning wheel of death.

With the help of his assistants, Buggy placed y/n onto the platform in front of the board. Each of her limbs were constrained tightly.

Reaching into his coat, Buggy pulled out four blades, holding them between his fingers. The audience gasp, uneasy of the next stunt.

"Is that safe?" Lyla said with a worried look. She bit her finger, gripping onto her husband's arm.

Y/n could feel the change of atmosphere. She grows anxious, wondering what Buggy would do next. That's when she felt a breeze by her wrist, followed by another one near her hip. Sweat began to form on the palm of her hands.

"Two more to go, can I get my blades get any closer to her body?" We shall see."

With a heinous laugh, he threw the third blade near the side of her throat, about an inch away from her skin. Y/n jumped. Her eyes began to water from fear.

"One more left."

The people watching had mixed emotions. Some, like Lyla, could not bear to watch. The other half were ready to see where the final blade would land. The thrill caused a large chant. "One more, one more, one more!" They kept repeating.

Gulping hard, y/n embraced herself for the last throw. Buggy rolled his free hand to encourage the crowd. He lived for this excitement. To add to the suspense, the clown turned around and took three large steps forward. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. It is dead silent now. The awful silent ringing filled y/n's ears. She couldn't take it anymore, with her racing heart, an anxiety attack began to form.

Before she could feel a tear run down her cheek, a loud thud boomed next to her left ear. The vibrating sound of metal rang through the ring, followed by screams.

One of the assistants removed the blindfold. The blazing lights burned as she tried to open her eyelids. That's when she noticed the semi large blade right by her ear, approximately one centimeter apart. She took a deep sigh of relief. It was finally over.

The assistant removed her from the constraints and Buggy made his way to the dismayed woman. Reaching his hand out once more, he offered to help her down the platform. Y/n stared at it, not sure if she should. With a shivering hand she reached for his.

"You're a brave one."

"Really?" she murmured.

"People usually scream at the first throw."

Looking away with a flustered face, she wiped her watery eyes, not caring for her makeup. Buggy accompanied her back to her seat. He gave her a handkerchief to help with her smudged mascara.

"Sorry if I ruined ya makeup. You still look cute," he said with a flirty wink.

Taken aback by the compliment, she fluttered her eye lashes to pull herself together.

"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, right?"

Y/n shook her head. "I'm okay."

Lyla nodded at her response, placing her head on Walo's shoulder.

The show continued with its final acts— obviously ending with a bang as a person was blasted from a canon ball. People left the tent shortly after. The trio stayed behind, not wanting to join the chaos at the exit. Y/n closed her eyes, trying to take in the intense night. Never would she have imagined a circus to be like this, yet it did exceed her expectations. She smiled, thinking of her mother.

"I finally witness the circus mom."

Lyla rubbed her sister's back. "Come on, let's go. The exit is free now."

Before the trio could reach the exit, someone yelled out to them.

"Hey!"

The three turned their heads back, not wanting to interact with that voice. Yasi approached them and stood in front of y/n. He looked down at her with a weird expression.

"What do you want?" Y/n spoke.

"What do I want? I came here to get an explanation about what happened earlier."

Perplexed by his comment Y/n wrinkled her brows.

"Don't make that face. You know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

Angered, he raised his voice. "What the fuck was that about with that clown? You guys were eyeing each other for a hot minute."

Her heart sunk, she didn't think anybody would notice.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Stop being weird." Y/n turned around to leave.

Yasi yanked her before she could escape, ripping the bust of her dress. She quickly held the material in place, hoping no one saw her breast.

"Okay that's enough Yasi. You've done it this time." Walo pushed him back.

"Oh, you wouldn't dare touch me. You work under my father. I don't think you'll like to be unemployed, would you?" Yasi plastered a wicked smile.

"Now, as your future husband, I'll have to discipline you Y/n!" He leaped in front of her, throwing her down.

As Yasi raised his right arm, something knocked him to the bleachers.

"Who did that?!"

Yasi looked up to see a figure approaching him. It was the clown.

"I'm going have to ask you to leave. The show has finished," he said sternly.

"Mind your fucking business clown."

Irritated by the brat, Buggy called in his crewmate to throw the man out.

"I'm not letting you freaks touch me. I will be leaving on my own will, not because you said so."

Yasi bumped against Buggy's shoulder, eyeing down at y/n as Lyla embraced her. He huffed and barged out of the tent.

Buggy tried to approach the startled girl, but embarrassed by her state, she turned around before he could notice her exposed chest. She ran off, leaving her sister and Walo behind.

"Y/n, wait!"

The two ran off after her, leaving Buggy at the entrance of the abandoned tent. Unsure on what to do, he looked at the night sky. It’s a full moon tonight, it dazzled brightly upon his face. The stars shimmered, dancing for the black sky— the ambiance felt different. That's when a glimmer caught the corner of his eye. It's the sliver necklace the young woman wore. The moonlight reflected off the precious gems. He picked it up and got a closer look at it.

It's beautiful, definitely a necklace of a high value. Part of him wanted to keep it for himself; instead, he decided to keep it safe. Buggy wore it over his neck, making sure to hide it under his scarf.

"What was that about captain?"

"Don't worry about it. Just some toxic fan."

Buggy pivoted and walked back in the tent, holding onto his scarf. "Let's go, we haven't finished our closing shift duties."

#buggy one piece #buggy the clown #one piece #buggy x fem reader #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #opla buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy

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chick-with-wifi · 7 months

Text

Meta: Shaw doesn't need god mode

Shaw is the only main character who has never been in god mode (Root in 2x22 then periodically throughout the series, Reese in 2x22 and 4x22, Finch from 5x10 onwards) and this is because, due to her skills and style of operating, she doesn't need it.

She is extremely observant, so would receive no benefit from the Machine's updates about her surroundings. For example, she reads the room in 5x11 ("That guy has a bum leg, the one by the door still has the safety on, and she hasn't stopped shaking since she raised her gun.") with the same level of detail as the information the Machine gives out ("Sharp right leg. Left knee, ACL. Tactical blade. Glass jaw." 4x22).

This extends to awareness of approaching threats, so she doesn't require the Machine to tell her where to aim. In 2x22 when Reese is in god mode, she shoots an approaching enemy at the same time as him and continues to help throughout the scene. In 3x01 she uses two guns to take down a group of enemies, leaving them a groaning heap on the ground, much like Root does with help from the Machine in 3x10.

She achieves this through a mixture of quick reflexes and precise aiming, as shown through her shooting an enemy after seeing his shadow under the door in 2x16, shooting a perpetrator who is using a victim as a human shield by aiming through his jacket in 3x05 and reacting instantly when a sniper's red dot appears on Root in 3x21.

This ability to rapidly assess her environment and move with exact timing also factors into her signature move of sneaking up on people, demonstrated when she both appears and disappears on Reese in 2x21.

Shaw is excellent at reading people and gleans a lot of information from using this skill, so does not require any additional input from the Machine. In 2x21, she makes deductions easily from Reese's body language ("Can you track him? How? You put a bug on your friend?"). In 3x05, she can tell when Gen is lying ("There is no Agent Cross.") and later knows exactly what to say to persuade Gen to give her the location of the tapes ("I'm a spy too, remember?"). In 4x11, she is able to talk the bomber out of detonating his vest.

She also demonstrates incredible strategic planning, exemplified by her escape from Samaritan in 5x08 ("It's not like I'm gonna spill a glass of water on the nightstand, stomp on your foot, throw an elbow to your chin, and stick you with that sedative.") which parallels Root's escape from the psychiatric facility in 3x03 with the Machine's help ("First the phone on your desk will ring. She'll be letting me know it's time. Then I'll punch you in the carotid artery. It'll hurt, Ronald, but it won't kill you. Then I'll take your car keys.").

Her plans involve reacting in the moment and maximizing the resources available to her, so any further instructions would be a distraction. She does this both in smaller ways, such as taking the enemy's radio in 2x16 to keep updated on their movements and using her gun cartridge as a mirror to look down the hallway in 3x05.

And in larger ways, for example in 2x16 when she needs a place to lay low and get supplies, she kidnaps a drug dealer and uses their base of operations, likely because they won't call the police on her. In 3x05, she repeatedly ignores Finch's instructions to get medical help and instead follows the trail of clues stemming from a packet of drugs to successfully track down the people who took Gen, while stealing supplies from an ambulance and giving herself a blood transfusion in the field.

In conclusion, Shaw works best when given an objective and the freedom to choose for herself how to complete it. The ISA worked like this ("My call. We had the cesium. Seemed like the best way to cover our tracks." 2x16) and she excelled at it, as evidenced by Wilson calling her his "best operator" (2x16) and Hersh saying "Shaw is one of our best. Trained her myself. You're not gonna find her until she wants to be found." (2x16). In this episode Finch also asks her to stop running "because you're much too good at it and we can't keep up."

This makes her a very valuable asset to Team Machine, which is particularly well demonstrated in 4x11 when Shaw's arrival makes their chance of survival skyrocket from single digits to over 20%.

#Poi #Sameen shaw #Person of interest #Poi meta #My meta

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takkotito-arts · 1 year

Photo

konata rapidly approaching your location (she found out you have that rare gunpla set)

#lucky star #konata izumi #anime #fanart

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breannasfluff · 4 months

Text

Nesting Season - Ranch

Lon Lon Ranch holds the infamous Miss Malon. A barn owl, Wild’s heard stories of both her ferocity and her caring. Despite being married to Time, he’s pretty sure most of the flock is a little in love with her.

Despite this, Wild is still a little tense as they approach the ranch house. Instinct has him wary of new people and unfamiliar situations. Legend, Hyrule, and Four are relaxed—well, Hyrule is hissing at the others, but the location doesn’t change that.

Time’s wings shuffle and he stops before the door to the ranch. Then he ruffles them again, bending one wing around to preen a few feathers. Another stretch and he fluffs them further.

He wants to impress Malon, doesn’t he? Wild softens slightly because it’s clear their flock leader loves his wife. Heart-song , he called her.

Warriors steps close and says something that has Time flicking his ears back as they grow red. He gives the captain a good-natured shove and turns back to the house. His call is strong and loud, although unfamiliar. It must be specific to him and Malon.

There’s a pause, and then a questioning answer, Where, who, mate?

Home, safe, mate, love-you, come!

Four ducks away from Wild’s side to take a few steps forward, eager. Sky smiles down at him and uses a wing tip to pull him closer.

From inside the house, there’s a rapidly growing thudding and then the screen door slams open. A blur of white, cream, and red heads directly for Time. Malon throws herself at her husband, wings encompassing and hiding them both from view.

When they break apart, Time launches into the air and Malon is a second behind him. Wild starts—should the flock join?—but Legend gives a calming whistle.

“They always do this,” he explains. “Time is going to be so wrapped up in her—just you wait.”

Hyrule wiggles between them with a chirp. “That’s going to be you and Ravio, you know.”

“What! No! That’s not—no!” The bowerbird’s face is flushing to match his few red feathers.

Snickering, Wild nods to the ear cuff proudly holding blue-purple feathers. “I don’t know, I always heard carrying around feathers is the first step.”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Legend swats at him and Wild ducks away.

Overhead, Time and Malon swoop around each other. One gives chase, only to turn and flee as the other switches roles. Spins and rolls come in perfect sync, never fowling the other’s wings.

It’s an amazing display, one built from trust and familiarity. What would it be like to watch them in a traditional dance with streamers and gauzy fabric billowing from their primaries?

The chain moves to drop their bags on the covered porch, but the magpie stays to watch the couple overhead.

When the two finally land, there’s nothing but soft coos and clucks for each other. Time keeps his wings slightly spread, arcing them around Malon. She leans into him like a flower to the sun.

Her skin holds the darker tones of the Gerudo, and the red hair matches. Malon may not be a direct descendent, but someone was. Her wings are soft off-white and fluffy, lacking the sleek precision of the raptors. They are made for silence and stealth.

Time blinks happily as he looks over the flock, although a faint frown crawls across his face as he looks at the trio huddled together.

“Ah—Malon. You haven’t met Wild yet, have you?”

Malon finally pulls away and steps out from under Time’s wing. “Oh? Do we have another hero for the flock?”

Wild steps forward, keeping his wings tight to his back. She’s not a hawk, but that does little for him at this point. Still, he’s in control of himself enough to push instincts down.

“I’m called Wild, ma’am. Thank you for letting us rest in your home.”

Limpid eyes blink back. “Oh, sweetie, there’s no need to be formal. I get enough of that from Twilight. You are always welcome here.” She doesn’t step closer, but the edges of her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “You’re all such good, special boys. Time has a good flock.” Welcome, safety, home, she trills.

Wild ducks his head at the sentiment.

“Now, I’d love to give you a hug, but I know you boys have all been through a lot. If you don’t mind, could you tell me what you’re okay with?”

What…he’s okay with? “But you’re Time’s wife. He’s flock leader.”

“Honey, that doesn’t mean one whit compared to your comfort.”

Wild is left opening and closing his mouth, trying to find words that fled. Malon doesn’t rush him, just waits patiently.

“Um,” he manages, “I don’t like people touching my wings. And,” his gaze drops to the dirt, “I don’t always do…the best with raptors.”

It’s embarrassing to lay out weaknesses, but better than she knows up front.

“Wars says they are in nesting season. Took quite a bit to pry them out of a cave in the mountains,” Time adds.

The champion isn’t apologizing for that. Nests should be high up—look what happened when they slept on the ground!

Malon nods and takes a step back, rather than forward. “All right, then I think hugs and getting to know one another will have to wait until you are all more comfortable. Legend, Hyrule, it’s good to see you again.”

Legend is happy enough to head in for a hug. Hyrule’s warning kekeke trails off into silence at the greeting. He doesn’t go for a hug, but he nods to the barn owl and loosens slightly.

“Right!” Malon claps her hands together and spins to face the rest of the flock. “Let’s get everyone settled before we settle in to chat.”

#nesting season #lu wing bois #lu wing au #lu triple threat #lu malon #lu time #lu wild #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #lon lon ranch #breannasfluff #my writing

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