#(again. hence research and respect)

[oldmanyaoi-jpeg]

something i'm trying to remember when creating characters is that respectful and researched representation is more important than getting it absolutely perfect with 0 flaws bc (when it's something i'm not) i'm never going to get it perfect

[roseghoul26]

Charles Smith x gn!Reader

"Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 'Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.' He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. 'Yeah?' You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low." Synopsis: A brush with hypothermia forces you and Charles to camp out in an abandoned cabin. Having to resort to some more intimate means of survival, will you be able to keep your feelings in check for the hunter, or will the proximity force you to confess?

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hypothermia, Huddling for Warmth, yes this is a cuddle for warmth fic, idc if its cheesy, Oral Sex, Gender-Neutral Reader, Fem Anatomy for Reader, Face-Sitting, Love Confessions, but in a twist its not the reader who gets frozen, surprise!

Author's Note: listened to chappell roan the entire time while writing this (hence the title). i also got so distracted by stardew valley my addiction has returned also, there’s a moment where the reader touches charles’ hair. as a non-indigenous person, i’m not fully educated when it comes to hair and the importance it holds in native american culture. i did research, but i could still be wrong. if i have made any errors, please let me know, and i will change it. 

If you never had to see snow again, you’d die happy. 

Tightening the fur coat around your body, you tried to preserve what heat you had left in you. The cold air of Colter was like a leech, sucking you dry of any warmth and joy. And it wasn’t just affecting you, you noticed. Glancing around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, with as many furs and clothes on their bodies as they huddled around the laughably small fire. 

The gang had been in Colter for about a week, hiding away from the law after the disaster that was Blackwater. You don’t remember much from that day, most of it a blur in your memories, but you remember the bloodshed. Pointless, ruthless bloodshed. You hoped you’d never see something like that again. 

Shivering, you almost regretted giving your extra jacket to Abigail, who had wrapped it around Jack. You were only feet from the fire, but it might as well have been hundreds of miles away with the way it was doing nothing to warm you. With a huff, you rubbed your fingers together, simply sitting and passing the time until someone asked you to do something or you had to go back on guard duty. That was all you could do, really, the snow and remote location making it impossible for you to do your normal robbing and thieving. 

There were many times during this week that you’d debated leaving the gang after you all made it out of Colter. You’d only joined about a year and a half ago, Dutch personally inviting you to his group after hearing about your notoriety across the states. Sure, it was nice to have a group like this, but this wasn’t what you signed up for, especially the events at Blackwater. You were promised opportunity and freedom, not brutality and hiding and cold-blooded murder. You wondered, would it be easy to slip away?

Sighing, you slumped forward, and your  legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor. You were on the precipice of coming to a decision, but there were still some things preventing you from taking the leap. You’d become somewhat close with the members of the gang, your lone wolf attitude dissipating as you created bonds with the others. It was easy to get along with Arthur, the two of you becoming fast friends, frequently doing jobs together. You spent most nights chatting with the girls in camp, chatting until late in the night. You respected Hosea, and even Dutch for some time, the recent events shattering that respect for him. To some degree you’d created a connection with each member of the camp, keeping you tethered to one place. 

There was one person in particular, however, that kept pushing those thoughts of leaving out of your mind. Charles Smith, the taciturn hunter that you’d become weirdly fond of these past few months. You’re not sure what you’d call your relationship with the man. The two of you were friendly, maybe even friends. When Dutch sent you out on jobs together, it always ended well, working together quite decently, if you’d say so yourself. 

Still, you wished you were closer with him, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You found it hard to try and initiate conversation with him, never quite knowing what to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a fool. And when you would talk to him, it felt like you were just talking at him, but if he was annoyed by you, he never showed. He’d just politely nod along, adding a few words here and there. 

But you knew he didn’t dislike you, finding him frequently looking at you around camp, just silently observing. Whenever you’d catch him, he’d just give you a polite smile, before turning away to do something else. Every time he did it, you found yourself grow bashful, your heart skipping in your chest. His starting was certainly not helping the infatuation you had with him.

Yes, your stupid heart had fallen for him, making it hurt to even entertain the idea of leaving. It was ridiculous and irresponsible to have feelings for him, and you knew that. They’d been there since he joined, and you figured that they would’ve gone away by now, but that was months ago. You’d never met a man like him before, someone so strong and fearsome, yet honorable and kind at the exact same time, and you figured that’s why you were so drawn to him.

Arthur knew about your feelings for the man, drunkley telling him during a night out at the bar in Blackwater a few months ago. He almost said something to Charles, who was somewhere in the same bar that night, claiming that ‘this life is unpredictable’ and ‘you gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late’, but you quickly shut that down with a swift kick to the shins. But that didn’t mean he stopped asking you if you’d done anything yet, and each time you’d respond with ‘no’. 

You knew that Charles didn’t think of you that way. You’re unpredictable, reckless, fiery, everything opposite of what Charles is. Where you were chaos, he was calm. Fire, water. And you didn’t want to ruin what relationship you had with him, so you kept your mouth shut (and never got too drunk around him).

A gust of sharp cold wind and the creak of a door broke you from your thoughts, a shiver wracking your body as you turned to see who just entered the cabin. In some cruel timing from the universe, the man who had just been haunting your mind walked in, a fresh dusting of snow hitting the ground as he shook out his jacket. A chorus of greetings came from the group collected around the fire, a gentle smile coming from you before you turned back to face the fire. Charles calling out your name had you slowly turning to him again. 

“Will you go hunting with me? The deer me and Arthur caught didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.” You now noticed the bow in his hand, along with a small quiver of arrows.

“I mean, sure,” you stood up, your cold muscles aching as you stretched, “but I ain’t much of a hunter, ya know. I usually end up scarin’ away animals instead of catchin’ ‘em. The others might be more well-suited for this.”

“But I’m asking you. And I can’t exactly do it myself.” Charles held the bow and arrows out for you to grab. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Not like I could ever say no to you, you thought as you took the weapon and slung it over your shoulder, and secured the quiver on your hip. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, Charles opened the door, holding it open to let you step outside into the harsh Colter weather. Wincing at the bright light bouncing off the white snow, you were temporarily blinded as you made your way to where your horses were, Charles not far behind you. A light snowfall came down around you as you walked, not terrible visibility wise, but enough to be obvious. You just hoped that it wouldn’t pick up later. 

There was probably a good foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground, making your movement sluggish and awkward. From what little you knew about tracking, though, it meant that it would be easy to pick up an animal's track, so for that you were somewhat grateful. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your horses, and you went to mount up, only to notice that your horse just wasn’t there. Spinning around, you looked to see if maybe she got unhitched and wandered somewhere nearby, but there was nothing. Whistling, you waited a few moments, seeing if you’d hear the sound of hoofbeats and winnings, but there was nothing. She was just gone.

As Charles mounted, looking equally as confused as you were, you turned and  looked to see who was currently on guard duty, thinking maybe they had seen something. “Javier!” You called out, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. “Where’s Hera?”

“Arthur took her!” He shouted back, and you couldn’t help groaning in annoyance. I’m gonna kill you, Arthur Morgan. 

“And you let him?” Javier had made his way over to you now, and you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you stopped him with a wave. “Nevermind, it’s not your fault or your responsibility. I’m just… frustrated.” You took a deep breath, and a cloud left your lips as you exhaled.  “Where’d Arthur go?” You heard the ground crunch behind you as Charles approached on Taima. 

“I dunno,” Javier shrugged. “Him, Dutch, Micah, and Bill went out a few minutes ago, he’s been borrowing everyone else’s horse since his died. Guess it was Hera’s turn.”

“Well, shit,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t reckon they’ll be back soon, right? Maybe they forgot somethin’?” You missed the way Charles let out an amused huff, your back facing him as you conversed with Javier. 

Javier lightly chuckled. “Look, if you need to go, I’ll let you use Boaz for a bit. It’s not like I’ll be needing him for a bit,” he gestured to the repeater currently in his hands. “If anything happens to him though…” he threatened, gesturing again to the weapon in his hands.

You were about to respond, but Charles beat you to it. “Or you could ride with me. If you’d like.”

You tried to keep your face neutral as you turned to respond, but you had to stop and glare at Javier who was sniggering. Apparently your facial expressions weren’t as subtle as you believed. Thank God you had your back turned, then. 

You turned again, and when you weren't so rudely interrupted by Javier’s childish antics, you responded to Charles. “Are you sure?”

He extended his non-injured hand to you as he nodded. “We gotta get moving though. Only a few hours of sunlight left.”

“Alright.” You linked your hand with his, letting him help you on to the back of his horse with ease. Javier had long since left, already halfway back to his guard post, not before giving you a knowing smile. As you wrapped your hands around his waist, you tried and failed to keep your breathing even, your heartrate picking up substantially. 

Sighing, you refrained from resting your head against his back. This was pure torture, but you knew you were going to enjoy it.

Thank you, Arthur Morgan… I’m still gonna kill you, though. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

He wasn’t quite sure why he offered to let you ride with him on Taima; he was just making it harder for himself to stay away from you. He scolded himself, because someone else had your heart, and he would just end up hurting his own if he kept doing things like this. 

The two of you had sped out of Colter, Charles setting a brisk pace that made the air bite at his skin. The pain was good, as it distracted him from thinking of you. You, who subconsciously shifted closer to him to shield yourself from the air. He felt you adjust behind him until his larger frame was shielding you entirely. 

He expected you to have started talking by now, making some comment about the weather or cursing Arthur out. When you didn’t he felt himself start to grow a bit panicked. Did I make you uncomfortable? Is this too much?

He kept his voice steady, and he gently called out your name. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I figure that must come as a relief.” 

I could listen to you for hours, he thought. I don’t ever want to stop hearing your voice. “Are you alright?”

He felt you shift behind him, your hands tightening where they sat on his waist. Your touch wasn’t even improper, yet he still found his breath hitching in his throat. Charles just prayed that the howling winds around the two of you drowned it out. “I think so. It just… this place is really terrible.” When he nodded in agreement, you continued. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. Blackwater, the gang, my future… It's a little bit overwhelming.”

“Do you…  want to talk about it?” He offered, and you sighed. 

“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Blackwater, ‘bout everything we did wrong, what we should’ve done differently, the choices we made. But I especially can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout that girl that Dutch murdered. The way he killed her, no mercy or falter, I ain’t even seen nothin’ like that from him before. Or maybe I chose to look away before…” you trailed off.

“You’re not the one who pulled the trigger. Dutch is the only person guilty of that.”

“Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’m sure as hell ain’t innocent. I could’ve- should’ve done somethin’. There was plenty of time for me to.”

“Don’t go beating yourself up about the past. The only thing we can hope to do is learn from it and continue on towards the future.”

“But the future is just as terrifying as the past! I’m scared for the gang, for its future. We’ve become so bloodthirsty, and now all Dutch talks about is revenge.” Your voice was becoming more and more distressed. “Is that what we’ve turned into? A bunch of no-good killers who think with their guns? I ain’t- I don’t wanna be that. That ain’t what I joined up for.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d noticed that shift in the gang over the last few weeks, the members become quicker to jump to violence and bloodshed. He wasn’t a saint, the blood on his hands equal to yours, but he was even becoming disturbed by the amount of unnecessary killings happening. 

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout leaving.” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were ashamed to say it. Charles stilled, shock running through his system. “Once we get out of here. This… this isn’t what I wanna do. I don’t wanna be associated with the Van Der Linde gang if it’s gonna continue heaidn’ in the direction it’s goin’. And I don’t wanna find myself at the end of a lawman’s barrel, noose ‘round my neck.”

“Oh.” Charles found himself at an impasse; did he just keep his mouth shut, or say something that might reveal too much? If you truly wanted to leave, then he didn’t want to guilt you into staying by revealing his true feelings. He understood why you wanted to leave, those same thoughts frequenting his mind as well, but he’d found a reason to stay: you. He hadn't told Arthur that when he asked why Charles was still hanging around a few days ago. His conversation with the other man when they hunted had solidified his stay with the gang, for better or for worse.

Did you feel the same way? You fool, Charles chastised himself. They don’t want you that way.

“Does anyone else know?” 

“No,” you sighed. “You’re the only one.”

A selfish part of him was glad that he was the only one that knew, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Well,” he began, “the only thing I can say is to not do something that you’ll regret… and just know that there’s a lot of people here that will really miss you if you decide to leave.” I will miss you so much that it hurts.

He felt your head connect with his back as you slumped forward, and he jolted at the contact. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me, Charles? I trust your judgment.”

Stay. Please, stay, he screamed in his head. “I can’t tell you what to do, how to live your life. Unfortunately, the decision comes to you,” was his reply. 

“You’re right. You’re always right, Charles,” you laughed half-heartedly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Still got a ways until I have to.”

“Whatever decision you come to, I’ll support you.” Liar. “Just… don’t leave without saying goodbye, you hear?”

“I promise. Now,” your usual chipperness returned to your voice, “where are we headin’?”

He explained that he was taking the two of you to Lake Isabella, following the Spider Gorge down. The lake had started to melt, meaning animals were more likely to start coming out as the weather warmed. As the two of you rode, you kept close to him, significantly closer than you were when you left. 

Charles pretended not to notice.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

There wasn’t much to look at on the ride down. Everything was white, splashes of black rock breaking up the monotonous landscape, and the occasional tree made itself known. There weren’t any animals, not even a rabbit. It was like you and Charles were the only living souls in the area.

You only spotted a couple of buildings, two of them a small cabin that could house one or two people. One was absolutely destroyed, time and weather causing the ceiling to collapse in, only a skeleton remaining. The other still stood, smoke coming out of the chimney, but you had no idea if the occupants were home or not. 

Taking a mental note of the building, before returning your attention back forward. Charles seemed to be content with just riding in silence, so you settled against him, your head nearly resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to spill so much to Charles, and you certainly hadn’t meant to tell him that you thought about leaving. It’s just that you felt so comfortable with him that you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you felt ten pounds lighter because of it. 

You didn’t want to drag another person into your troubles, especially over something so trivial in comparison to what the rest of the gang was going through. A part of you wanted this to be the moment in all those cheesy romances you read where the love interest confesses their feelings in order to make the main character stay. But this was real life, and this was Charles you were talking about, the man who would put everyone’s needs before his, even if it hurt. And besides, Charles had never done or said anything that gave you the impression that he had feelings for you. From what you could tell, he saw you as a friend, and nothing else.

Right?

God, you were so desperate for the man you held on to. 

He made no comment when you did actually rest your head on his shoulder. If he did ask why, you’d just say you were cold. You knew you just wanted to pretend that he was yours. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. It did little to calm your erratic heart. 

Eventually, the partially frozen Lake Isabella came into view. This area wasn’t too unfamiliar to either you or Charles, having been there a few days prior to dispatch a group of O’Driscolls. Having opened your eyes a few moments prior, you were able to make out a few deer drinking from the newly exposed lake water. You gestured to them, but Charles had already seen them, bringing Taima to a halt behind a large bush.

By this time, the snow had begun to pick up, the sheets coming down obscuring your view ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough to force you indoors. 

Dismounting as quietly as you could, you readied the bow in your hands, letting Charles lead the way as he snuck closer to them. It was almost supernatural, the way he was able to move so silently. For someone of his stature, you’d never expect him to be able to move so quietly and with such ease, yet here he was. You tried your best to move like him, taking a bit longer as you followed in his footsteps. Charles led you around the edge of the lake, the shore edge mere inches from your feet, occasionally splashing against your shoes. 

Luckily, the deer hadn’t noticed either you or Charles, still drinking without a care in the world. He had stopped by now, moving to the side to let you move ahead. The deer were in range by now, and you only needed to move a few feet closer, making you halt underneath a large tree. The branches drooped under the weight of the snow, a few globs falling off and hitting the ground around you. 

Weirdly enough, you felt at peace. Not because of the hunting, but because of the man who stood a few yards behind you. You felt safe under his gaze, like nothing could hurt you. As you drew the arrow back, you let out a confused noise as the deer suddenly scattered, spooked by something you couldn’t see. 

You turned to look back at Charles, but you realized then that you probably shouldn't've had your guard down so much. A large weight dropped on you from the tree, too heavy and too warm to be just snow. You let out a startled cry, blocking out Charles shouting out your name, panic seeping into his voice. 

Whatever fell on you landed on your back, your face pressed in the snow as you lay on your stomach. It clicked now that there was someone on you, a hand yanking your head back by your hair, warm breath assaulting your face as your attacker spoke. You couldn’t quite make out what exactly he was saying, snow and shock causing your hearing to be spotty. All you were able to make out were a few curses, the word “kill” multiple times, and some racist phrases aimed toward Charles.

Even before the initial shock had worn off, you were fighting back, squirming and moving desperately against the man’s grip. He just laughed, then you heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He rested the barrel against the back of your neck, the cold metal pressing against the exposed skin. Dread washed over you, numbing your senses far beyond what the cold could do. With the way the man gripped your head, you couldn’t move it, and you strained your eyes as you looked around, desperate to find Charles. Is he alright? Please, let him be alright. 

You saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as the weight was on you, it was gone. An alarmed yell left your attacker as he was tackled off of you, being pushed a fair distance before falling onto the frozen Lake Isabella. Rolling over, your hand fell into the cold water, and you quickly pulled it back.

Standing as quickly as you could, the world spun for a moment, your body confused with the many different orientations you were just in. Pressing your back against the tree for stability, you watched as Charles and your attacker rolled far across the ice. You saw the distinct green handkerchief around his neck, and you couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left you. No matter where you went or what you did, you couldn’t escape the O’Driscolls. 

Shouts from behind you had you spinning around, quickly drawing your revolver, the bow long since discarded on the ground. Three more O’Driscolls came running from the woods, only a few yards away from you now, their cries of alarm coming from the two bodies of their members lying in the snow, which you had just noticed. Keeping your aim steady, you took three shots, the gunshots cracking through the still air. The first one hit right in the heart, the second one finding a home between his eyes, and the third one hit the final O’Driscoll right above the shoulder, merely grazing the skin, and the only non-fatal shot. Still, it caused all three of them to hit the snow.

With the final man falling relatively close to you, you ran over to him. Pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt, you held your revolver right below his chin, the hot metal burning his skin. He could not have been more than eighteen years old, a sliver of childhood innocence still left in his eyes as he stared up at you, fear and pain rendering him mute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snarled, pressing the barrel harder into his skin. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, boy?”

Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, a few tears leaving him as he stared at you blankly. He was shaking, and you wondered how long he’d run with the O’Driscolls for. He was obviously young, and if this was his reaction to being held at gunpoint, you gathered that he didn’t have a whole lot of outlaw experience under his belt. Against every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you felt yourself loosen your grip on the boy, a pang of sympathy running through you. 

Sighing in exasperation, you holster your gun, a relieved noise leaving him as you did. Glancing forward, you saw two horses hitched to the trees, seemingly the rides that they came in on. “Go,” you waved. “You ain’t even grown.”

“Th-thank you!” He nearly wept, getting to his feet shakily. 

“But if I ever see ya again, especially as a damn O’Driscoll,” your hand hovered above your weapon. “I’ll not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. You hear me?”

“Y-yes.” He clutched at his shoulder. 

“Now go!” you shouted. “Get outta here! Before I change my mind.” As soon as he sped off toward the horses, you turned back toward the lake. Charles stood above your attacker, beating the life out of the man, his face pure crimson. He was using his injured hand, but he paid it no mind. Blow after blow, Charles’s strikes hit true, the thuds echoing across the water.

You really should not have found it as attractive as you did. 

You let yourself watch for a few moments longer, before you were snapping out of it. “Charles!” You called out. Immediately, he was looking up at you, the man below him no longer even on his mind. Wiping away a smear of blood on his cheek, he slowly made his way toward you, his steps slow across the ice. 

Concern etched across his features as his eyes raked over your body, looking for any injury or hurt on you. “Are you alright?” You asked, trying your best to push down the flush of your cheeks as he stalked towards you. He had an almost murderous glint in his eye, his movement predatory; you especially should not have found that attractive. 

“Did he hurt you?” He completely brushed off your question, his eyes wide with panic. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this disheveled and worried before. 

“Only my pride.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but was promptly cut off when the ground beneath him gave way, the weakened ice no longer strong enough to hold him. Immediately, he was submerged under the water, but luckily he was close enough to the shore that it wasn’t too deep. He reemerged seconds later, sputtering and coughing. 

As soon as you heard the crack of the ice, you were running toward the edge, stepping precariously on the ice. In retrospect, it wasn’t the smartest idea, especially when you started walking towards where Charles fell through, but at the time you didn’t care. All that mattered was getting him out. 

Scanning around, you quickly assessed the best way to save him. The hole that was created was way big enough so he could get his arm up, but as soon as he pressed at the ice it shattered, unable to hold anything. As you stepped closer, you felt it begin to break as well, and you quickly moved back to the shore. 

“Fuck…” your hands went to you head, your gloved fingers pulling at your hair. A large stick from the tree you assaulted jumped down from sparked an idea. Grabbing it, you started chipping away at the ice, smashing and breaking it until a path big enough for Charles to go through was created. Standing at the shore, however, you realized  that neither your arms or the stick was long enough to reach the man, who was starting to get dragged down from the weight of the water in his clothes. 

Quickly unhooking your lasso from your belt, you created a loop for him to grab on to, throwing it at him with an accuracy from years and years of practice. It landed right in front of him, and he grabbed on to it as quickly as he could, his movement sluggish. Wrapping it around your hands, you began to pull him to shore. “Hold on!” you shouted at him, and he let out a noise in response. You’d take that over nothing.

It wasn’t incredibly hard to pull him closer, the water helping carry him over. But once he got to the shore, and you discarded the rope, pulling him up onto the land proved to be almost impossible. Grabbing underneath his arms, you pulled with all the strength you had, the muscles in your back and shoulders crying out in pain, but you paid them no mind. It took an incredible amount of effort, but eventually he was fully out of the water, laying splayed out in the cold snow. 

You didn’t let yourself get a moment to recover, instantly running over to his side. Turning his head toward you, you let out a sigh of relief when you say his eyes flutter open. He was absolutely drenched, his heavy winter gear made even heavier with water, and you watched him begin to shake and his teeth begin to shatter. And, if your luck wasn’t already terrible enough, a full on snowstorm had started, causing cold blasts of snow and wind to pelt your bodies. Chalres shivered even harder, and you let out helped sit him upright. “We gotta get you indoors, and soon. You ain’t gonna-” a lump formed in your throat at the thought. “It ain’t gonna be good for you if you stay out here. I’ll need your help, though. I can’t lift you on my own. Just… just find what energy you can to get up. Please.” You couldn’t help the panic in your voice. To say you were scared would be an understatement. 

You’re not quite sure he fully comprehended what you said, but he started to get up, and you forced him to lean a bit of his body weight against you as he did so. When he was up, you slung his arm over your shoulder, nearly sagging under his weight as he nearly collapsed. You called for Taima, whistlin the same pattern you’d heard Charles use for her. 

Within seconds, the sound of neighing and hoofbeats filled your ears, his loyal steed coming to a halt right in front of the two of you. She let out a worried snort, and you reassured her with some soothing noises. “Alright, Charles. Here comes the worst part.” It took quite a bit of maneuvering and effort, but after a minute Charles sat where you did on the ride there. 

His eyes, which were onced unfocused and confused, had regained some clarity to them, and you heard him mutter out your name. You smiled as reassuringly as you could, before you were mounting up on Taima, sitting in the saddle and the reins in your hands. “Hold on, darlin’.” You were too panicked to notice the name slip out, and you took the gasp from Charles as being from the cold. 

With little urging, Taima moved forward, almost immediately breaking into a gallop. You led her back up the trail, heading toward the cabin you saw on the way down. It would take too long to return back to Colter, and with the way the storm raged around you, you doubted either of you would be able to make it. 

As you rode, you felt Charles slump against you, exhaustion taking over his body. You reached behind with one hand, grabbing his knee and shaking him awake. “I know you hate me right now, but I need you to stay awake for me… please.”

He grumbled something in reply, his speech slurred and indecipherable. 

“I’m gonna talk at you, like I always do,” you tried to joke. “And you’re gonna do what you do, which is nod along and pretend you care. Just… just stay awake. You hear me?”

“I care…” you heard him protest, and you just shook your head.

“Uh-huh.” The wind was biting into your cheeks, and your eyes were watering, but you didn’t dare slow. You filled the couple minute ride with your voice, telling stories of your childhood, or random anecdotes you’d picked up from your travels, to recounting the bar fight you’d gotten into a few weeks prior. Charles, despite being exhausted, kept alert, giving one-word responses from time to time. 

He shivered the entire time, and you couldn’t tell if that was worrying or comforting. Panic was steadily bubbling in your chest, finding it hard to keep focus on your stories. Halfway through the ride, much like you did, he rested his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You suppressed a surprised noise as you felt the freezing skin against your own, his nose and lips unnervingly cold. 

“Stay with me, Charles.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was cold. 

Everything was cold.

Could hair get cold? It sure felt like it. Charles had never felt such coldness in his life before, and he never wanted to experience it again.

He should’ve never gone on to the ice, his brain was screaming at him.

But he had led with his heart, shoving the man off you and following him on to the ice. As soon as he had seen you go down, the other man on top of you, it was like time had slowed down. He had seen red, the two men attempting to hold him down quickly meeting their ends at the hands of his fury. 

He prided himself on being able to keep calm in situations, his anger rarely ever taking a hold of him, and it had never happened since he joined the gang. Guess that streak was broken now. Not that he had any regrets.

Well, he had a few.

He should’ve registered the footprints in the snow leading up to the base of the tree. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, should’ve not been so distracted by you. He should’ve said something.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.

But he’s just a man, and man is selfish. He was glad this happened.

Without this happening, he wouldn’t have his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried into your neck breathing you in. Without this, you wouldn’t have called him darling, causing his heart to thump erratically in his chest. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to pretend right now that you and him were more than friends, a fantasy that he had played out a million times in his dreams.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. A shiver wracked his body, and he burrowed deeper. God, he was so cold. And so tired.It would be so easy to just close his eyes, to let unconsciousness wash over him… 

He was jolted awake by a hearty shake of his knee, and he heard your voice break through the fog of his brain. 

You had such a lovely voice. He hated how worried it sounded, and all because of him. Or maybe he was happy you were worried about him. He couldn’t tell. Everything was unclear. The only thing he was certain about was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that grew with each glance and each soft word from you.

He was in love with you.

Stupidly in love, in fact. 

He couldn’t stop himself, the words tumbling from his lips like a freefall. But it came out as gibberish, and he felt you shake your head, unable to comprehend him.

That’s alright. He’d repeat it as many times as you needed. 

And as another shiver tore through him, he felt you rub his thigh reassuringly. Despite the thick material of your gloves, he could feel the warmth of your skin, practically burning against his frosty skin. The butterflies in his chest bubbled to life, and he couldn’t stop the small laugh he let out. 

He was infatuated.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The short ride felt like forever, the monotonous landscape that had once been soothing now tormenting you as you searched for the cabin you saw prior. The smoke trail was impossible to spot out in the snowstorm, so you used what limited navigation skills you had to get you there. 

Eventually, the frame of the cabin broke through the sheet of snow, and you nearly cried in relief. You were starting to freeze, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Charles was feeling. Taima huffed as you brought her alongside the entrance, the steam from her snout dissipating instantly. Quickly dismounting, Charles nearly fell off when you moved, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” you snarled, roughly shaking him awake. Yes, you were threatening the hypothermic man. No, you did not care. You were almost inside, and you were not going to lose him. “Do not pass out on me, Charles Smith. Now, let’s get you off Taima.”

Charles muttered out an apology, his eyes reopening as he struggled to get off. His clothes were starting to solidify, clumps of ice forming across his jacket. You helped as best you could, catching him when his feet made contact with the ground, nearly sending you both to the snow. Again, you slung his arm over your shoulder, your other arm holding your gun as you entered the cabin, ready to clear out any homeowners. 

A blast of heat hit both of you as you creaked the door open slowly, and you heard Charles sigh with relief. A quick scan around proved that it was empty, and you gently set Chalres in front of the still burning fire. You realized now that the occupants were probably some of the O’Driscolls that just jumped you, and the cabin now stood empty for you and Charles. Relaxing slightly, you put away your gun, then added a few more logs to the fire pit, the flames lapping at the wood eagerly. 

To call the cabin small would be an understatement. It was large enough to fit both you and Charles comfortably, but you can’t imagine that the few O’Driscolls camping here temporarily had a lot of legroom . A single twin sized bed was lined up against the wall, cloth and other materials covering the windows beside it. There was a fireplace, a small stewpot, a nightstand, and a chair. Extra sleeping bags and rugs adorned the floor, a few cans of fruits and vegetables scattered across the floor. You saw the occasional empty bottle of alcohol, and you even found a pack of cigarettes. 

Charles seemed to wake some, the warmth of the fire breathing some life back into him. You saw him look around, body still shaking. He looked even worse than you thought, his normally warm-toned skin devoid of any color, and his hair was plastered to his face. As you crouched down in front of him, you went to push back a few strands, your gloves long since discarded, but you refrained. 

“A-Are you alright?” You heard him ask again through chattering teeth, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even though he saw freezing, likely suffering from hypothermia, he was more worried about your well being.

“I’m not the one who fell into the freezing lake. What were you thinking?” You weren’t angry, your words surprisingly gentle despite the fear in your heart. 

“I-I wasn’t… I-” his body cut him off, shivers wracking his body. 

“We gotta get these clothes off of you,” you picked at the offending garment, the material barely budging. You started to work the heavy coat off his shoulders, the roaring wind outside the only noise.

Suddenly, Charles was grabbing at your wrist, stalling your movement. You were halfway done with taking it off, the water melting off of it coating your hands. “Taima…” you heard him say.

“I’ll go make sure she’s secure,” you quickly rose to your feet. “Just get undressed. We need to get you warmed up.”

Stepping outside, the gusts hitting your body caused you to let out a curse. Taima was  still where you left her, stomping impatiently in the ground, shaking out her coat as she tried to keep warm. When you clicked your tongue, she came prancing over, ready to get out of the wind. 

You led her to the attached stall, which was in pretty decent condition. It blocked out a lot of the wind, and it shared a wall with the fireplace, letting some of the warmth to the horses as well. There was some hay left scattered on the ground, and you took off her saddle, setting it on the stand. You left the horse blanket on, giving her some extra protection. 

When you were done, you moved to leave, and you felt Taima brush affectionately against your head, nuzzling her snout into your shoulder. Laughing, you pet her neck affectionately before she removed herself to continue eating at the hay. Making sure the gate was secure, you headed back into the cabin. 

Charles was still undressing when you entered, his back to you. Even his undershirt was soaked through, the material clinging to his body like a second skin. It was at that point it clicked that the man you were infatuated with was going to be bare before you soon. You found yourself turning away, uncharacteristically embarrassed, shrugging off your own jacket and laying across the back of the chair. If it was any other person, you’d’ve not reacted this way, your lifestyle not allowing for much privacy. But of course it had to be Charles getting undressed in front of you, and you found yourself growing quite warm. 

Taking the lasso from your belt, you strung it across the room, making a makeshift clothesline to hopefully dry his clothes faster. His jacket, which was a wet pile of fur, was the first to be hung up, the rope creaking precariously under the weight. Luckily, it held, and you added each new item as he took it off. 

You made sure not to look directly at Charles, and you saw in your peripheral vision as he worked off his shirt. Your throat was suddenly dry, hands shaky as you continued to hang items up. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Charles? It was like God was tormenting you, giving you what, but keeping it just out of reach. 

You must’ve made a noise, because Charles was turning toward you, concerned. You finally let yourself look at him. He was partially done unbuttoning his shirt, the collar open, but you saw that he was struggling with the small buttons, his fingers barely working. “May I?” you asked, gesturing toward his shirt. The sooner he was out of the wet garment, the better.

He paused for a second, contemplating. “Yes,” he consented, lowering his hand at his side. Stepping forward, your hands resumed his work, quickly undoing the rest of it. Do not make a big deal of this, you repeated in your mind. You were simply helping a friend not die from hypothermia, not unbuttoning the shirt of the person you were hopelessly in love with. He shrugged it off, practically peeling it from his body. You were especially careful to only look him in the eye now, not daring to look at his newly exposed chest. 

Turning your back to him to hang up the shirt, the unmistakable clang of his belt hitting the floor had you stilling. Exhaling shakily, you heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, all making themselves comfortable on the floor. You didn’t dare turn around to grab them. Instead, you headed towards the bed, pulling off the heavy duvet. Walking backwards, you held it out to him behind you. You heard him murmur out a small thanks, taking the blanket from your outstretched arms. 

You gave him a few moments. “Are you… decent?” you asked, keeping your gaze up even with your back turned. When he gave a noise of confirmation, you finally turned back around. After situating his discarded clothing, you gathered some of the canned goods strewn about before setting your boots next to Charles’ beside the fire. You sat down next to him on the various furs and bedrolls. Charles had the blanket wrapped around his body, and you tried really hard to not concentrate on the fact that he was completely bare under the duvet. 

You opened one of the cans with your knife, tossing the lid of it behind you and handing it to the man beside you. “Eat. You need to get your strength up.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us. Now, eat.” You pushed the can of what looked to be sweetcorn in his hand, and he finally took it, tipping it back into his mouth and eating slowly. 

He was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming more and more alert, and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Quickly finishing the can of food, he placed the empty can beside him, rubbing his hands together beneath the blanket. You were looking into the fire, and you could feel his eyes on you. He didn’t say anything, just observing you like he normally did. 

This time, however, it felt like his eyes were picking you apart, like he could see every secret beneath your skin. Clearing your throat, you stood up, gathering up the remainder of his clothing and hanging them up. You were scared that the longer you sat by him, the likelihood of you having to confront your secrets would increase tenfold. “You need anythin’? More food? Water? Coffee?” You asked, drying your hands on your pants. 

“I’m g-good,” he responded. 

“Have you warmed up at all?” He shrugged in response, the action barely noticeable with the heavy blanket around his shoulders. You didn’t bother to hide the concerned frown on your lips as you crouched beside him. Running the back of your hand, you winced when you were met with deathly cold skin. “Shit…” you cursed, pulling your hand away, and you failed to notice Charles chasing after your warmth.

Standing up, you began to pace the room, trying to keep the dread you felt at bay. Your mind was running wild with thoughts, all ending in worse case scenarios. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to keep calm, just for Charles’ sake. You wouldn’t do him any good if you were freaking out. You tried to think back on the basic first aid you’d learned through the years. Most of the things you’d already done, like getting him out of wet clothing, getting him food, getting him in front of a fire. Was there anything else you could do? Or did you just have to sit and wait and pray that what you did was enough.

You knew Charles was watching you pace, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. You ran your fingers through your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally remembered. Body heat, which means… oh. 

Goddamn it all. 

You hoped you didn’t look too alarmed. It’s not that you were opposed to the idea, but it would make it significantly harder to bottle up your feelings. In fact, doing this might just smash the bottle all together, causing you to spill your heart to him. “So…” you began nervously. How the hell were you supposed to ask this?

“So…?” Charles repeated, raising a brow. 

“I-I… well…” you ran your hand over your face. The wall was looking quite interesting right now. “I was wondering if you’d like… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’... if you’d like for me to share my warmth?” That sounds so weird. “It’s just, you’re not gettin’ any better… and I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” The last part you whispered, and you doubted he even heard it. 

Something flickered across Charles’ face, too quick for you to recognize. He looked conflicted, and you chewed nervously on your lips. Did I cross a line? Oh God, did I make this weird? He’s gonna hate me-

“I’d like that,” his voice cut off your minds’ rambling. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you gave him a small smile, which he returned. Okay, this is happening. Again, do not make a big deal of this. This means nothing. Your hands, which weren’t steady, began to work at your button up. Charles slowly looked away, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’m not gonna take everythin’ off,” you reassured, taking the look in his eye as concern. Taking your gun belt off and setting it on the bed, your pants and socks were off next, joining the belt, leaving you in only your undergarments. 

Slowly, you approached him, your steps uncertain across the bedrolls and furs. You tried to keep calm, but the reality of what was going to happen quite soon was causing your heart to pound against your ribs. He watched you approach, head turned back around. You couldn't imagine it was comfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Finally, you stood in front of him, partially blocking the fire, which caused your shadow to cast over Charles. Without breaking eye contact with you, he pulled the blanket back, inviting you in. Your shadow, thankfully, blocked out any newly revealed skin, but you still found a blush creeping up your neck. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you sat yourself on his lap. With your legs wrapping around his hips, your ankles were barely able to interlock. His following sigh sounded pleased, and you found yourself smiling as he wrapped the blanket around the two of you, creating something akin to a cocoon. He kept his hands braced on the ground beside him, refraining from touching you.

Charles was indeed freezing, and you let out a discontent noise at the contact. “Sorry,” you more felt than heard him say, your faces mere inches apart. 

“I should be the one who’s sayin’ that…” you sighed, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, beginning the process of warming his body back to a normal temperature. “I should’ve been payin’ better attention, then we would’ve never ended up in this mess.” Not that I’m complaining too much. 

The two of you sat together for a few minutes, letting Charles simply enjoy your body heat. “I don’t think either of us were expecting an O’Driscoll to come falling out of a tree.” You heard him say.

“It certainly wasn’t on my list of things to happen today,” you laughed, your hands moving down his shoulders to his biceps. Having him under your touch like this really put into perspective his sheer size. “And neither is this. Any of this. I’m sure you weren’t plannin’ on takin’ a bath in Lake Isabella today.”

“Can’t say I was. But, you-” Charles cut himself off, his eyes widening the tiniest bit. If you weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You gave him a confused look, and he just shook his head. “It’s nothing. I almost said something foolish,” he tried to dismiss, embarrassment evident on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say somethin’ foolish the entire time I’ve known you.” You tugged at one of his arms, bringing it between your bodies after he shifted his weight on to the other arm. You clasp his uninjured hand between yours, blowing hot air and trying your best to return some life back to the ice cubes that were his fingers. “You know I ain’t gonna tease you for what you say, right?”

“I know,” Charles sighed, but he didn’t elaborate further. You didn’t push, not wanting to wreck this moment between the two of you. You felt him flex his fingers between yours, a relieved noise leaving him as more feeling returned to them. Eventually, you let go of his hand, but it seemed like he didn’t quite know where to put it, hovering a few inches above your waist before returning back to the ground. “You can touch me, Charles.”

You held back a content noise when you finally felt him grasp your waist, his fingers resting on the waistband of your undergarments. Occasionally, his fingers would brush your bare skin, your undershirt having rid up when you had sat down, and you felt goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

Moving to his injured hand, you eyed the now wrecked bandage, blood and water causing the material to practically dissolve. You tsked disapprovingly, and began to peel off the old wrapping, discarding them across the cabin. You were expecting to see the wound completely reopened, especially because of the punches he threw at the O’Driscoll, but were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty much healed injury. It was slightly irritated, sure, but it must’ve been healed for at least a day or two.

“And here I was scared that we’d have to chop off your hand,” you joked, flipping his arm over as you examined the now scar. “This has been healed for a day or two now. You’re probably only gonna have a light scar from this.” Realization dawned on you, and you chuckled. “Charles, you could’ve gone huntin’ on your own today.”

“I could’ve.” He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Still, I did want to do it with you, but I could’t just ask. I needed an excuse.”

“You never need an excuse, Charles. I’ll gladly go huntin’ with you, injured hand or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You felt him squeeze your hip gently, a playful grin on his face. It had your stomach doing somersaults, and you tore your eyes away to begin warming up his other hand. It was strange, seeing him so carefree like this. It was a look you’d never really seen on him, but you rather enjoyed it. “Only hunting?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased, drawing out the syllables. “Whatcha have in mind?”

“Not quite sure yet. But it’ll just be us.”

“Like a date?” You joked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Sure. Like a date.”

A giddy smile cracked across your lips, and you gingerly kissed the back of Charles’ hand before letting it go, where it immediately joined his other by settling on your waist. Your ears were burning, a flustered blush growing across your body. Here you were, sitting on a naked Charles’ lap, only the thin material of your undergarments separating the two of you, but the thing that made you bashful was him asking you on a date. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, the hands on your waist moving up your back, keeping your body pressed close to him. The digits were still a bit chilled, but you didn’t mind. The blanket around the two of you was barely hanging on at this point, and you tried your best to keep it around him. Like he did on the horse, you felt him bury his face in the crook where your neck and shoulders connected. 

Although it was significantly less cold than the last time, you still shivered at the contact. You felt his lips brush against the skin, and you could barely feel the light kiss he pressed there, gone in an instant. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind at that moment. You mostly felt relieved, your feelings for the man no longer feeling so one-sided. Your mind was so loud, in fact, that you barely heard him mumble something against your skin. You realized that he was thanking you, and you responded with a confused noise.

“You saved my life today. Twice. I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“I wouldn’t’ve just left you, Charles. I couldn’t. I…” you trailed off, a confession ready to leave your lips. The bottle had cracked, its contents spilling out as you tried to damndest to keep it all contained. “If I remember correctly, you also saved me today. Nothin’ good would’ve happened if you weren’t there today.”

You felt him tense, an almost pained sound leaving him. “When I saw you like that… I don’t ever want to see that again.”

You moved back so that you could see him again, and you cupped the side of his face with your hand, relieved to find the skin significantly warmer than it was moments ago. “I’m alright. Thanks to you, I’m safe.” 

He relaxed slightly, but his eyes were filled with so much sadness that it had you frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” he whispered, resting his own hand atop yours. “The best thing in my life, and I almost lost it today.” Both of you seemed surprised by his words, but you didn’t let him backtrack.

“But you didn’t. You are the one who got that man off me, and showed him the error of his ways.”

He chuckled at that, but then another frown adorned his lips. “I didn’t… unsettle you, right? I… I saw your eyes widen after you called me off him. You’re not-”

“Never. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Relieved, you felt him go fully lax under your touch. His whole body had returned to a normal temperature, you noted, the heat under the blanket beginning to become sweltering. With your thumb, you stroked his cheek, feeling the raised skin of the scar across his cheek. He let go of your hand, moving it back to the ground to keep the two of you propped up as you leaned forward. The duvet fell slightly, exposing his shoulder to the air, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.”

He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. “Yeah?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low.

You nodded, the fingers on his cheek moving to brush a few strands away from his face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out but not because of the low light. “I always think you look beautiful,” you murmured. 

He hummed in response, and you felt the hand on your back creek up, resting at the nape of your neck. He didn’t pull you forward, he just held you. “Next to you, however, I imagine I look quite plain.”

“Oh, hush,” you chided while smiling. 

“I’m serious.” You felt him play with the hair at your neck, fingers running lightly through the strands. “It’s distracting, how beautiful you are. Whenever I walk into a room and you’re in there, you’re the first thing I look at, and I can never bring myself to look away. At night at camp, you look so at ease, the fire illuminates your face in a way that makes you look ethereal. I can do nothing but watch you, too stunned to speak. You plague every waking thought, and you haunt my dreams. You’ve unknowingly burrowed yourself into my heart, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You were at a loss for words, your mouth moving but no words actually came out. Choosing to ignore the way your heart celebrated, you let out an airy chuckle. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

He laughed. “I can keep it short, if you’d like?”

“I didn’t mean that,” you scoffed. “What could possibly condense all that?”

Charles gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe you hadn’t caught on by now. A part of you knew what he was going to say, but you wouldn't believe it. You needed to hear it from his lips. The hand playing with your hair stilled, the only sound being the crackling fire behind you. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

He said it like it was the simplest thing ever, like it hadn’t just completely flipped your world upside down. He had taken your bottled up feelings and opened it himself. Taking your responding silence as a negative thing, you felt his hand fall slightly, a worried look crossing his face. You didn’t give him much time to worry, pulling him closer with the hand still cupping his face. Your foreheads connected, and your lips were almost brushing. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.”

“Well… for how long?”

“How long have I been with the gang?”

Surprised, you laughed lightly, and he visibly looked confused. “So this entire time, you felt the same way?”

It took a second for him to process your words, a wide grin appearing when he did. “I guess so.” He paused for a moment, and you felt him take a deep breath. “You love me?” He asked, his voice small and uncertain. 

You moved your face back an inch, giving you room to nod. “I do. For the same amount of time, too. I was too scared to say anythin’, I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. And I kinda thought I annoyed you to death,” you chuckled. “But if today reminded me of anythin’, it’s that this life is too unpredictable to have regrets.”

“Arthur gave you that lecture too?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn't heed your warning about not playing matchmaker with you and Charles. But still, you might have to thank him later. “Despite what he claims, he’s a nosy bastard.”

He hummed in agreement, and a silence hung over the room, anticipation heavy in the air. With the lightest touch, you felt him bring you forward with the hand on the back of your head. “I wanna hear you say it,” you heard him ask. 

“I love you, darlin’.” Both hands now cupped his cheeks, and you hovered your lips above his. “Kiss me?”

“Gladly.” You felt his hand move to cradle your head, pulling you in the final distance until your lips were colliding. There was only a hint of chill left on his skin, easily melting away against your warm mouth.  His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and you let out a pleased sigh. It was a surprisingly quick kiss, and you sucked in a breath when you felt him pull away, his eyes blown out. 

He was also panting, and his fingers wove into your hair, like he was grounding himself. Moving forward, you tried to reconnect your lips, but he moved his head so that your lips collided with his cheek instead. A jolt of panic shot through your body, thinking you horribly misread the situation. “I want… I want this,” he reassured. “But I want to make sure you want this. That you want… me.”

You’d never met a man like Charles Smith, and you’re sure you’d never meet another like him. Never, ever had you heard of or met a man explicitly asking for consent like this, and it got you more excited than you thought it would. “I’ve wanted this for a while now,” you admitted, resting your touch on the junction where his shoulders and neck met. “I’ve dreamed of a moment like this more times than I can count. I want you, Charles. I need-”

In a complete switch up, he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your words. If the first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, this one was hungry and confident, lips eagerly moving against yours. He was practically devouring you, like he couldn’t get enough of you. With every small noise that left you, he seemed to grow more bold, and you felt the fingers in your hair tug slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it caused your lips to part. Within seconds his tongue swept into your mouth, eager to explore you. 

The blanket had long since fallen off, bunched up on the ground surrounding the two of you. Pushing him lightly on his shoulders, you eased him on his back. Your hands planted on his chest when he made contact with the furs, your lips not separating for a moment. He was a pleasant temperature under your fingers, his skin surprisingly soft, just like his lips. You were straddling his waist now, your hands barely keeping you from laying your entire weight on the man. 

He had let go of your head, his hands moving to your waist to keep you secure. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. A part of you wanted him to, but you didn’t say anything. If he wanted you like you wanted him, then there would be a next time.

Rocking your hips, you felt a growing hardness barely separated by your thin undergarments. You felt him groan when you did so, and he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he moved his head away to suck in some air, your hands snaked back up his neck, nearly covering his ears. You’d thought your attempts at warming him up were fruitful, but when you felt how cold his ears were, you made a concerned noise, your lust temporarily forgotten. “Your ears are freezing…”

He looked like he couldn’t care less, but then a mischievous smile crossed his face. “You gonna warm them up, then?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” You giggled, and you made sure that your hands fully covered them. You had easy access to his lips, and you gave him a quick kiss. 

“Not with your hands, my love.”

You smiled at the endearment, but his statement confused you. Cocking your head to the side, you moved your hands off his face, settling them back on his chest. “What-?”

You didn’t get to finish your question, the hands on your hips effortlessly pulling your up toward his face. Your knees now straddled the sides of his head, your thighs practically where your hands were, covering his ears. You looked down at him with wide eyes, a flush creeping up your neck at the implications. Surely he doesn't want that, right?

Charles let out a satisfied noise, and with his hands now on your thighs he eased you on to him. You let him, but you kept a few inches between his mouth and your body. He genuinely seemed upset by that, and you felt him press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Please, let me taste you,” he pressed another kiss to the inside of your legs, this one closer to your aching center. If he moved any closer, he was bound to feel your wetness through the fabric. “I want you to fall apart on my face.”

You exhaled shakily. “You want to?” You asked, almost in disbelief. This man was unreal.

He nodded, the action causing his chin to brush against your center. “Let me make you feel good, my love.” When he pulled you down again, you didn’t keep any distance between the two of you. You felt him press a kiss to your clothed center, a smug grin on his face when he felt your arousal. He didn’t say anything, just pulling you down closer to his face until your legs were fully wrapped around his head, no space between the two of you. 

You felt his tongue flick out, simply tasting you through the damp fabric. He did it again, and again, and his hands tightened on your thighs. He was indirect with his tongue, but each swipe had you letting out small moans. A mix of his saliva and your arousal was causing the fabric to become even more wet; they were most certainly going to be wrecked. 

The small kitten-licks were nice, but you needed more. Charles knew this too, and you felt him work his fingers under the material of your undergarments, pulling them down your ass and thighs. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually the garment was off, being tossed somewhere to the side by you, leaving you in only your undershirt.

He wasted no time, pulling you back down onto his face with a growl. Parting you with a pass of his tongue, he let out a pleased noise, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. Charles was insatiable now, lapping and drinking you like you were the best goddamn meal he’s ever had. His eyes were hooded, drunk on you. When his broad strokes turned into concentrated flicks on your clit, you moaned loudly, your thighs turning vice-like around his head. 

It spurred him on, working your clit with markman’s accuracy, bringing you closer and closer to your climax in record time. You heard him groan something under you, and you let out a breathy sigh when you realized he was groaning your name over and over again.  

This entire time, you had kept your hands to yourself, but you were growing more and more desperate to touch him. Reaching down, your hands tangled in his hair, and then almost immediately releasing it like it burned you. For a second, you panicked, thinking yet again you crossed a line, which seemed to be a repeating event this evening. You knew his hair was an important part of his culture, and you would never forgive yourself if you did something to upset him.

Without even slowing down a beat, you felt him grab your hand, leading your back towards his head. He closed his eyes when he felt you weave your fingers through the locks, his hips bucking when you tugged slightly. 

You were getting close now, and you felt yourself moving against his face in time with his tongue. “Charles,” you whined, and he hummed in response. “I’m- I’m gettin’ close, darlin’,”

As you neared your release, you heard the sound of skin-on-skin from behind you. Turning around, you saw Charles stroking himself, getting off to eating you out. “Oh my God… Charles…” you breathed out, barely able to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight behind you.

His eyes were hazy with lust as he peered up at you from between your legs, and you could feel yourself begin to tip over the edge. Sighing out his name, you felt him grin. Before you could even process it, he sucked on your clit, pushing you over that edge as you came hard on his face. You were crying out his name, but your voice sounded distant to your ears, temporarily out of your body as you orgasmed. Charles kept his tongue moving as you came, drawing out every bit of pleasure from your body.

It took you a few moments to recover, and the first thing you were able to hear was the obscene noise leaving Charles’ mouth as he drank in your release. Secondly, you realized you had a death-grip on Charles’ hair, and you quickly let go, and you tried to apologize, but your words were jumbled. He continued to lap at you, but it quickly became too much, your body beginning to feel overstimulated. You rolled off of him, being mindful of the fireplace even in your post-orgasmic haze.

Glancing over at Charles, you found him already watching you, just like he would do in camp. With a soft smile, you scooted closer until you were pressed into his side. He gave you his arm to la on, and you felt him kiss the top of your head. It was silent between the two of you, simply taking the moment to catch your breaths and recover. 

You couldn’t help looking down, though, having to stifle a gasp when you saw how big he actually was, having only gotten a glimpse of him early. He was going to feel good, but you knew you would be sore for a few days after. Not that you cared. 

Looking back up at him, you let your fingers trail up his chest, resting right above his heart. It was beating erratically, just like yours, and you heard him let out a noise when your fingers “accidently” brushed over his nipple. You heard him whine out your name, and you slowly sat up. You were able to see him clearer now, and he looked like a mess. His face was covered in your slick, glistening in the firelight, and his hair was all tousled from your fingers. But the best part was the pure bliss on his features.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes snapped open when you pulled off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “You’ve got somethin’ on your face,” you tried to joke, but your voice was quite hoarse. You tossed your shirt at him, giving him something to wipe his mouth with. He merely set it to the side, unbothered with the mess. Propping himself up with an arm, he offered you his free hand, pulling you forward when you took it in yours.

You nearly fell right on top of him, your muscles pure jelly. Laughing, you were just able to get upright before he was kissing you. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but you found you didn’t mind. You didn’t keep your lips on his for too long, moving down his jaw, then down his neck. You weren’t straddling his hips, so the positioning was a tad bit uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. 

Moving down further, you trailed kissed across his collarbones, then down his sternum, his breathing growing uneven as you went lower and lower. A hand now rested on the back of your head as you continued downward, reaching a patch of hair that started at his belly button. It surprised you, the rest of his body being relatively hairless, but you weren't complaining. In fact, you were imagining seeing it peek out from under his shirt as he stretched, his clothing riding up with his arms. Even though it was relatively innocent in the light of everything else the two of you were doing, it had you pressing your thighs together, trying to relieve the returning ache between them.

Following the happy trail, you ran your fingers through the hair as you adjusted closer to his member. His was achingly hard at this point, and his breathing stilled when you ghost your lips over the tip. Leaning over him, you flicked your tongue out, licking up the bead of precum. The hand and your head tightened into a ball, and you could tell he was fighting every urge to buck himself down your throat. Next time, you thought. 

Moving down further so that you sat between his legs, you spit into your hand before you grasped him. He was velvety soft as you slowly began to stroke him, a mix of your name and a moan leaving his lips as you did so. With heavy eyes and part lips, he watched you pleasure him. “You feel so good in my hand,” you murmured, “butI think you’ll feel even better in me, no?”

His response was slightly incoherent, but you could tell he was agreeing with you. “In a second, darlin’. I wanna taste you, too.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Charles found his voice again, although it sounded very strained.

“But I want to. Don’t make me beg for it.” You weren’t really intended to suggest anything, but the look on Charles’ face at your comment had you grinning. “Unless you want me to?”

“I-” he was stunned, but you could tell he was imagining it, and liking it. 

“Please, darlin’, let me suck your cock,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “I bet you taste so good… just let me taste you, please. I need it so bad, darlin’. I need your cock-”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Charles cursed, which was more arousing than you thought it would be. “Yeah, go ahead, my love.”

Pressing one last kiss to the tip, you flattened your tongue and ran it up his length, and you heard him moan. You did it a few times, receiving a similar reaction each time. Eventually, you slowly took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around while doing so. Taking more and more of him into your mouth, you were only able to take him halfway before he was pressing against the back of your throat, and you relaxed as best you could, not wanting to trigger your gag reflex.

Taking the rest of him in your hand, you began to bob your head up and down. Hollowing your cheeks until you reached the tip of him, you then ran your tongue across the slit, before moving back down his length, keeping your tongue flat. You repeated this action for a while, falling into an easy rhythm. You felt him buck up a few times, but other than that he kept his hips relatively still, letting you have your way with him. His hand didn’t push you further down him, he just simply held you, moving back the hairs that tried to fall in your face. 

You heard him moan out your name, and you groaned. “You feel so good, my love,” he praised. His words turned into a surprised moan, whe, with your free hand, started moving slowly up his thigh, moving inward until you brushed against his balls. He nearly jumped with the contact, causing his cock to go further down your throat than you'd like, causing you to rear back coughing. 

Immediately, he was apologizing. His hand was now on your cheek, wiping away the spit around your mouth as you recovered. “Are you alright?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting your voice at that second. You could tell that he still felt bad, and you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. 

“I’m alright,” you managed to get out, and you cleared your throat some more. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“So did you, touching me like that” he teased, his earlier concerns dissipating when he saw that you truly were okay. “I wasn’t gonna last long even before you did that.” Pulling you up to him, he kissed you, and you finally straddled his waist, his cock resting between your bodies. 

You weren’t given much time to savor his lips before your world was quite literally turning as he flipped you on to your back. The furs nestled nicely against your skin, and you locked your legs around Charles’ waist, grinding yourself against his member. His head fell against your chest, and you felt him brush feather-light kisses across your skin, much like you did. But a new eagerness had overtaken you, and you grinded again against him, and you felt him chuckle. “Patience, my love.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Charles. I need you in me.”

“You think you’re ready for me?” If those words came out of any other man, you would’ve laughed at the arrogance those words held. But you knew it came out of a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing, scared of hurting you. He was large, and you knew that it was probably going to hurt when he entered you, but your lust fueled brain did not care. You need him in you now, consequences be damned.

“Please,” you whispered, and he adjusted so that his face was level with yours. 

“Alright, but if at any point-”

Kissing him quickly, you smiled at him, brushing back a long strand of hair that fell in his face. “I will. I trust you. Now,” you kissed him again, “fuck me.”

He didn’t respond, pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose before you felt him press into you. He kept his eyes on your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly entered you. The initial breach was always the worst part, and you couldn’t help the slight grimace that crossed your features as he breached your entrance. He halted, but you urged him further by pressing your heels into his back. 

The stretch was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, satiating a need you didn’t know you had. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled your face against yours, resting your foreheads together. “God, you feel so good,” you panted as he pressed himself deeper into you. You were certain that he was going to ruin you for any other man. 

Hearing him chuckle made you realize you said that last part aloud. “After this, you’re stuck with me, my love.”

Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and you were curious to see how deep his possessive side went, you pushed further. “Am I now?” Yes. 

For a second, it seemed like Charles couldn’t tell that you were teasing, but when he saw the playful glint in your eye he played along. “Do you think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

He was nearly fully sheathed in you, and you fought the urge to just pull him the rest of the way into you “I dunno. If I remember right, I asked you to fuck me. It sure don’t feel like you’re doin’ that.”

Finally, he was fully in you, your hips flushed together. You both let out content moans, and Charles gave you a moment to adjust. “You want me to fuck you?” He confirmed, and the words sounded even filthier coming from his mouth. 

“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.” 

Letting out something akin to a growl, he pulled out of you quickly, leaving only the tip in before he was slamming back into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. He set a brutal pace, and your head rolled back, your moans and cries filling the air. With the way your head was, it caused your back to arch, meaning your breasts were right in his face. With zero hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking and toying with the nipple in his mouth. Releasing it, he switched to the other one, making sure to give both apt attention. 

Tugging at his hair, you brought his attention upwards. Smashing your lips against his, your kiss was open-mouth and messy, more tongue and teeth than anything. His hips were snapping against yours, incessant as he pounded into you. 

“Yes! Charles,” you wailed, tearing your lips away from his to do so. He kept his lips busy, nipping and kissing the skin at your jaw and neck. A particularly hard bite had you gasping, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way; all that you could register was him, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he looked. 

He leaned over you now, broad arms caging your head in. His dark hair fell in waves around him, blocking out any other visual in the room. All you could do was look at him, and he was a sight for sore eyes. Color had long since returned to his cheeks, the skin there darkening with exertion. His eyes were locked on to you, dancing around your face and chest like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to look at. His plush lips were parted, soft gasps of air leaving him with each thrust.

Another snap of his hips had you grasping at his back and shoulders, pleasuring washing over you as another orgasm began to build up. Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, but it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, he let out a low moan, and it had your cunt clenching around his cock. 

Babbling his name, your nails ran down his back, leaving in its wake angry red lines. “You feel so good… like you were made for me.”

“My love…” he sighed, and one of the hands at the side of your head cupped your face,  bringing you right to his lips. His length was reaching places in you that you didn’t know existed, filling you deep and hard, just like you wanted. You were going to become addicted to him. 

“I’m so close, Charles…” Releasing one of his shoulders, you snaked your hand between your bodies, moving to start touching yourself. You weren’t expecting him to quickly grasp your wrist, bringing it out of the way and replacing your hand with his much larger one. He began to rub at your clit, slow circular movements that juxtaposed the fast in-and-out of his cock. His ministrations had you seeing stars, and you felt yourself reaching completion again that night. 

“Charles, I-”

“I know. Let me feel you fall apart.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

His slow movements turned rapid, groaning when he felt you clench around him. With a cry of his name, you came, pleasure rolling over you in waves. This one was stronger than the first, feeling like every nerve in your body had been set aflame. Your eyes rolled back, the world temporarily turning dark as your eyelids shut. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, a reverent look in his gaze. With the way your walls were fluttering around him, and the quickened pace of his hips, you knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

His arms went back around your head, continuing to move as he chased his own release. You heard him gasp out, quickly pulling out of you, and you let out a discontent noise as he no longer filled you. He stroked himself a few times, hand moving fervently up and down his length. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would’ve had taken him in your hand yourself, wanting to feel him as well. Moaning your name, you watched as he came, his release spilling over your stomach. His hips canted forward a few times as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You loosened your legs that were wrapped around his waist, and silence hung over the two of you as you both processed what just happened. A small laugh left you, breaking the trance, and you saw him smile back at you, mirroring his laughter with his own. You watched him grab the blanket that was still bundled up on the floor, and he tore off a section of it, the sound of fabric ripping startling you slightly. 

Wiping his release from your skin, he tossed the soiled cloth to some corner of the room. It’s not like this was your place, anyways. Opening your arms, you invited him to lay with you, and he gladly accepted. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, but he still lay partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. It was comforting, and you felt yourself begin to grow a bit sleepy. “Are you warm yet?” You teased, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, and you felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“I think so,” he responded, bringing the blanket around your bodies. The fire was starting to die down, but neither of you moved to add fuel to it. He murmured something, and you gave an inquisitive sound. “I love you,” he repeated, his brown eyes filled with emotion as he stared up at you.

“I love you, too.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it. “What is it?” You asked, and he sighed, his warm breath tickling you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your earlier conversation. The vulnerability in his voice had your eyes watering, and it didn’t take much thinking to reach your answer. Sure, you were scared for the future of the gang, and you were scared that with each passing day you’d find yourself closer and closer to finding your end at a rope or a barrel, but none of those fears mattered, not anymore. Not when you finally had all that you wanted in your arms. And who knows, maybe you’d end up leaving in time, but you knew you wouldn’t be leaving alone.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. Besides, you still owe me a date.”

His responding smile solidified that you had made the right decision. Whatever the future held, you knew it would be easier with Charles by your side.

[storiesfromafan]

Obsessed Pt 2

A/N: I am finally back, and with part 2! I'm still a bit sick but am almost over the flu. Thankful it wasn't covid again.

I hope this part isn't too bad. Not sure how I feel about it, but will stick with it haha.

Part 1

Obsessed Pt 2

The first three years at Hogwarts were blissful oblivion, being a student that blended in so well that no one even looked your way. Fourth year was different, with change in appearance and hormones you were being noticed more, like anyone really.

You were the nerdy girl who did the bare minimum to avoid the spotlight. It wasn’t because you were shy, but rather bored. Sure, you liked to converse with people, but most days you would rather avoid them. So, you thrived in being invisible, a wallflower if you will.

The only real friends of yours was the girls in your dorm room, as you had all started at Hogwarts together, meeting on the train in first year and bonding over the joy and nerves of starting your magical journey together. And they accepted you the way you were. Understanding how you chose knowledge over being social, they even did it too. But you were always happy to spend time with them.

Lately your invisible position felt to be lacking. The feeling that you were being watched, not by a collective but possibly by one solitary soul. You would enter a room and feel eyes on you. It wasn’t a bad thing, no ill feeling, but more secure. Silly to think really.

After the day you had, and witnessing a third year take off after rejection, and the exciting dinner in The Great Hall, you retreated to the library before curfew kicked in. You had a few things to research for different classes. Taking refuge in a quiet corner, you had three large books piled on your table as you retrieved your parchment, quill and ink.

The library was a safe haven for you. A space that housed so much information, a challenge for you to absorb as much of it as you could. Knowledge was always something you wanted, knowing all you could about anything. And because of it you found many of your Ravenclaw house mates seeking you out, either with help or to study with you. In your house you were known for your intellect, but when in the classroom you liked to fly under the radar. You didn’t seek recognition for it like some, you didn’t want to be known as a know it all.

Sitting back in your chair, large book in hands, you were reading over a potion Professor Snape had mentioned earlier today in class. Of course you didn’t know of it at the time, hence why you sort it out now. You took notes on its ingredients and brewing method, wanting to be prepared in case the Professor sprung it on you at any point. Something he did enjoy doing to his students.

With an hour left before curfew, many students had left the library by now. The added silence was like music to your ears, which was silly. Closing the book, satisfied with the new knowledge you had gained, you thought it best to put the books back on their respected shelves. Walking around the rows of books, the three large books in hand, one by one being put in their spots.

You had just put the last book back, in a more secluded area of the library, when you heard a soft whooshing noise. It was like something flying around, but it wasn’t some kind of creature. Stepping towards the opening of the row, something came flying up to you before suddenly stopping before your face, making you jump.

Your wide (color) eyes blinked a few times before registering the floating letter, that sported your name so neatly. Hesitantly you reached out and took the letting in your hand, the magical dust falling from it disappearing once in your hold. Looking from the name, you turned over the letter noting a wax seal, before turning back to your name with curiosity.

Looking around you, you noted no body in your vicinity. So, who had sent this letter? And from where? You were wondering this while moving back to your table. Sitting the letter on the table you packed up your supplies before taking the letter once more, you intended to put it in your bag, but the curiosity was getting to you.

With another look about your area, you broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment. You were met with the same neat writing on the crisp parchment. You scanned the writing, taking in the words on the page. Coming to an end realization hit you, this wasn’t a letter per say but a complete published poem.

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

The beautiful words of the muggle Lord Byron graced the parchment before you. Someone had sent you a beautiful poem, one you had read a few times and enjoyed. Muggle poetry was a comfort read for you, especially those that reference love. You might have brains, but you still dreamed of romance.

You stared at the words; there was only the poem and nothing else. The person who sent this didn’t even sign it with their name or anything. Confusion washed over you by the beautiful sentiment. Coming back to reality you noted the time, before folding the letter and place it carefully in your bag. With said bag on your shoulder you left the library and headed back to the Ravenclaw house.

Walking through the almost empty halls, the soft sounds of the paintings around you filling the halls. You passed other students on your journey, who were heading to their own respective houses. Upon reach the Ravenclaw door, you recited this week password before being granted access. You noted students in the common room, with no rush to go to their dorms.

You on the hand looked forward to being in your dorm. A hot shower and pajamas calling your name after the long day. Upon entering your room, your best friend and other friends were already there. They were talking about the day while reading or working on homework. Dropping your bag on your bed you grabbed your pajamas and toiletries, before going to the joining bathroom to scrub the day way.

After resurfacing in the dorm room clad in your comfy pajamas, you disposed of your dirty clothes in your laundry hamper. You then took a seat on your bed, bringing your bag to sit before you and started to take out your work from the days classes. You had emptied your bag when your best friend (name) came over, she sat at the end of your bed while you packed your bag for the next day.

Being in a deep discussion with your bestie, the parchment from your secret admirer fell from your bag. (Name)’s eyes dropped to the parchment, while you also looked to it. You both looked at the other, to the parchment and back to each other, before both of you lunged for it. A curse coming from your lips when she had just beaten you to it.

(Name) didn’t listen when you protested, asking for the letter back, your words falling on deaf ears. With a large smile on her face, she turned to look at you, hands ready to open the parchment.

“What do we have here?!” (Name) asked with glee.

You shot her a dark look. “It’s nothing. Now give it back”. You lunged for the parchment but ended up landing on the ground.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing~” she sang holding a corner of the letter in each hand and moving it around to her words. Which only added to your annoyance.

By now the other girls in the room had joined you both, they were looking at the parchment with interest. Getting to your feet, you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. From there you decided to explain the letter, and how it had been enchanted to come to you while you were in the library. As you told your story, your best friend and roommates listening with bated breath, hanging on every word.

“It’s just a poem. Nothing of real interest” you finished with a sigh.

With those words (Name) opened the parchment. She and the other two girls read the contents. And just like you said, it was a poem. They looked a little deflated, no doubt hoping for something juicy.

“Why would someone send a poem?” one of the girls asked, the other just shrugging at her words.

(Name) took a seat next to you, the gears in her mind grinding away. You could tell she was thinking of something of substance. She never thinks so hard for nothing.

“I think you do have a secret admirer” (Name) stated slowly. “Maybe this was the best way to speak to you”.

“Huh?” The two other girls asked in confusion.

“Think about it. Most males stumble over their words, let alone would have trouble writing them down” (Name) started. “So, a muggle poem might be the best way to open a line of communication”.

You nodded, agreeing with her logic.

“Are you going to write them back?” One of the girls asked, all the while your three roommates stared at you.

You blinked your eyes a few times before waving your hands about. “W-what?! Oh no, no I-I couldn’t” you stammered.

“Yes, you should!!” All three chorused together.

You groaned. “W-what would I say? Hi who ever you are, thanks for the poem. It wasn’t weird at all. I found it nice”.

They all laughed at your words. “No” (Name) said with a soft smile. “But you could say thank you for the beautiful words and hope he would send you some of his own?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh please, no doubt this is from some weird quiet kid”.

“Don’t knock the weird quiet kids” (Name) retorts poking your side, “you never know what you could be missing out on”.

You shook your head at their laughter. For the rest of the evening your roommates made small jokes, and discussed the possible suitors the parchment could be from. The list went from fellow Ravenclaws, to Hufflepuffs and Gryffindor’s.

“Maybe it was Mattheo Riddle” mused (Name) with a sly smirk.

You threw your pillow at her, as she guessed the crush you had on the Slytherin male. Though about ninety-eight percent of the females of the school were crushing on Mattheo.

(Name) threw your pillow back at you. “Just imagine his fan club if it was him, so many girls would wish to be you so badly” she cackled falling back on her bed no doubt imagining the scenario.

“Haha” you pouted. “Hell would have to freeze over for it to be Mattheo. I doubt I’m his type, or if he even knows who I am!”

You know you spoke the truth, as did the girls in the room, but saying them out loud still hurt. For Mattheo Riddle was far out of your reach. The guy had a different girl every month or two. And they were always breathtakingly beautiful.

The girls around you were talking but you didn’t take much notice. Laying on your bed, your mind was going over the parchment and the poem. Questioning why someone would anonymously send you it? Was someone messing with you or was this legit? Did you have a secret admirer after all?

[chaifootsteps]

Sorry this is gonna be long. Vivziepop doesn't understand the gravity of sin and hence cannot comprehend the idea of redemption.

It's so obvious Viv has had some bad experiences with the Christian church, but she is also totally unwilling to research the philosophy behind the religion. There are reasons we believe what we believe, and reasons why what we believe gets twisted and used to hurt people, and even reasons why our beliefs in their truest and purest form can STILL hurt people. But regardless of their effects, whether good or bad, there are REASONS those beliefs exist, reasons backed up by literal millennial of theology and historical/academic study.

The idea that her characters don't even understand HOW someone gets into heaven just proves she gave no thought to the other side of the argument. The premise of Hazbin Hotel is that people can change and deserve a chance to be redeemed, but she fails to illustrate any actual change or redemption.

Redemption is predicated on the recognition of what you've done wrong and the desire to do better. It is an internal battle of constant self-examination and dedication to improve. The people that make up her main cast are sinful. Whether or not their sins mean they deserved hell is up to interpretation. I'm not asking her to follow the Catechism of the Catholic church. But if these people are to be redeemed, they have to acknowledge themselves as full of fault.

Husk was a gambler. A gambling addiction is not a fun or quirky hobby. It, like any addiction, is a complete loss of control and subservience to a vice that destroys your life and relationships with other people. Alastor was a cannibal and serial killer, who took the lives of fellow humans and desecrated their remains for his own pleasures, showing a complete lack of respect for the sanctity of life. Angel Dust hurts himself over and over and over again through his addiction to pleasure and narcotics. Sometimes sin doesn't hurt other people as much as it hurts us, but it's still a sin because we are supposed to treat our bodies as temples. These are all massive flaws of the characters, sins that have overtaken their personalities and lives, and yes, they may be interesting and fun and entertaining, but that doesn't change the fact they did bad things.

Vivziepop can't redeem anyone, because she fails to set a standard of righteousness. Sin is just a mutation of virtue. It's taking prudence and turning it into greed. It's taking humility and turning it into self-flagellation. It's taking love and turning it into lust. Because of her, I'm sure, completely valid religious trauma, she fails to recognize the humanity of the people that hurt her. That they too are just people who struggle with their own sin and vice. She can't comprehend or give the benefit of the doubt that religious people have valid explanations for their beliefs.

She seems to think of heaven as just a place of stuck-up hypocrites who don't know how to have fun. She seems to think the rules and regulations of religion are just arbitrary rules someone made up for a power grab and not a detailed and dedicated attempt of humanity to understand God and his desires.

Viv's understanding of redemption is likeability. It's illustrated in Angel's scenes in episode six. Yes, Angel is being nice and kind and caring about people, but his problems were never a lack of caring about people. His problems were using substances to deal with his problems, and yes he did deny the drugs Cherry offered him, but there was no moment of reflection as to why he no longer wanted to take them. It seems more like he wants to make Husk happy with him than he actually wants to form better coping mechanisms or even a recognition that he doesn't need the drugs to numb the pain anymore now that he has a support system.

She seems to think that if a sinner is likeable, they don't deserve eternal damnation. That's why she woobifies every character she grows to like, because being a good person and sin cannot co-exist in her mind. People who are likeable cannot be bad people and thus a system that would put a likeable person in hell is rigged and stupid. But that fails to comprehend the multi-faceted of humanity and sin.

Sometimes people you love, people who are good to you, are bad people to others. Child molesters can be good friends. Rapisits can advocate for animal rights. Murderers can be good parents. A person who abused you could be someone else's best friend, and a genuinely good friend at that. A failure to recognize the complexity of virtue and vice is a failure to understand what redemption means.

She can critique the idea of perfection. She can critique the hypocrisies of the church. She can critique the tenets of religion. She can even say the things I believe in are unfair and nonsensical and evil. But she cannot make a good critique without understanding the other side of the argument. Because without that, she herself has no counter argument!

The plot of Hazbin is no longer that people can be redeemed, but that redemption is not necessary, because the rules that government heaven and hell make no sense. And that's a COMPLETELY different argument to be making.

I apologize for the length. I hope I've made some semblance of sense.

No, no apologies for the length. It was an interesting read!

Some would argue that all religions are nothing but arbitrary rules someone made up for a power grab, but it's true, there's at least supposed to be some kind of rhyme and reason to it all. In theory at least, it's supposed to improve yours and everyone else's quality of life, but that goes against Viv's theory that the only thing that matters is doing whatever you want all the time. Viv doesn't have to side with Heaven or go full blown scripture, but you can't tell me that Heaven doesn't even know what it takes for someone to get in.

Thanks for your thoughts!

[read-write-thrive]

edwina / edith in her lingerie as inspired by @hannaloony and @arisprite ‘s fanart !!! this one’s on the simpler side but I’m planning to do a companion piece with charlotte (and might do more with the backgrounds to really sell the whole “getting ready in their respective eras” thing, not sure yet) and hopefully doing something a little more suggestive with the both of them, again inspired by @hannaloony ‘s piece but using my own interpretations of fem!payneland w/ butch!edwina and fem!charlotte bc i love them

(side note: I know everyone is using Edith and not Edwina but I think Edwina suits my interpretation better for some reason ?? something about ppl hearing “Edwina and Charlie” and getting jumpscared when Edwina is the butch is funny to me,,, still undecided if she uses any nicknames but I’m open to suggestions lol)

previous artwork I’ve done of these characters can be found here: part one (original duo piece) ; part two (alt outfit for Edwina, Edwina sketches)

notes on the costuming choices for anyone interested:

- i specifically designed these undergarments to work under either of the outfits I’ve given her so far!!

- I decided on combinations as her base layer as they were seen as younger/more casual/athletic, all of which im aiming for with this design. technically these are probably too plain for the era, especially if she was attending a girl's college/finishing school where sewing and adorning and the like would have been taught, but I wanted to keep the masculine energy so I figured some ruffly hems and blue ribbon was a good enough middle ground

- the color palette is inspired by several reproductions I’ve seen online as well as keeping with Edwin’s blue color motif/existing palette

- researching the corset took AGES so here’s a rundown: I wanted it to keep with the casual/sportswear look so I went with a sports corset, meaning it wouldn’t have any hard boning (it was just the hella reinforced material without the actual bones/metal), would have elastic at the sides, and would most likely be an overbust corset despite that not being the trend during the Edwardian era (for the most part/to my knowledge). the examples I was inspired by of sports corsets technically didn’t have visible garters, but literally every other corset I saw did and I can't imagine why sports corsets would have to have the more impractical thigh garters ??? surely you also want to keep your stockings up when running around ??? so I gave them to her anyway

- im keeping the socks/stockings the same as my other illustrations but honestly i struggled to find similar historical examples :/ surely someone at some point wore some heavy duty knit stockings, but maybe my idea of knit is just different from how knit garments, especially socks, were in the era ? regardless im keeping them like this, especially since Charlotte has pantyhose on and I feel like silk/cotton stockings would look too similar

- i went back and forth on a corset cover, but ultimately went without one bc 1. it gave me a more interesting way to pose her lol and 2. i couldn't tell if corset covers (and similar garments that went over top what we have here) would have been worn with athletic attire ? like I have her in bloomers in both of her outfits thus far so I figured no petticoat or slip, but early brassieres/corset covers/bust improvers/etc are just a big ??? from me

- a note on her hair: so if you look at all three of my illustrations of her you’ll see that her hair is totally consistent and while I can try to say that’s intentional it’s really just bc I keep going back and forth on little details about it. for example, in the first illustration her ears are completely exposed vs in the second they’re mostly covered—the exposed ears read as more butch to me but also would’ve been pretty inappropriate and I wasn’t sure if that’s an area would Edwina would rock the boat too much, hence me going back on it in the second illustration. also, I’ve gone back and forth several times before on it her hair is actually cut short or if it’s worn in a faux/“nervous” bob (which I just learned that name for lmao). on one hand, having it actually cut short is 100% more butch and leans into the practical/athletic vibes. on the other hand, it would be a drastic move for a repressed, bullied, 16 year old at an all-girls school to pull, plus it would put her ahead of the trend by several years. in the end, I think of it this way: the Edwin that we meet reads as effeminate to a modern audience, but 80% of that is through mannerisms, not direct costuming, and even what we do get from costuming is skewed bc we are a modern audience perceiving an Edwardian subject. so I figured sticking Edwina with traits she could wear as either masc or fem but chooses to wear bin a more masculine style would shorthand that sort of how-you-wear-it approach to gnc (plus I’ve been there done that when closeted so it felt extra fitting)

- that whole rant aside: I went with the faux bob but, in the name of her being in the process of getting ready, wanted to show it in a half-done state that we would never see Edwina in otherwise ! the idea with the undone side is that she’s taken out the rags she wore her curls in overnight (I don’t see her using heat but if she did it would be before this) but only tucked half up before putting her corset on. is that the actual order of how you would/should do this? fuck if I know. I also am not 100% certain if the curl pattern/hair density is accurate between one side of her head and the other, but without an exact reference this is the best you’re getting

- speaking of things being out of order, I do know that if you’re deciding to don a corset anytime soon, it’s best to put your shoes on beforehand! especially if they’re lace-up boots like our girl here wears, as bending over in a corset to tie them is not fun. thankfully, she’s in a sports corset so it wouldn’t be too bad, plus she has to step into her bloomers so I figured keep her in her socks was the right choice

- there’s a halfhearted attempt at a background here with some dark wood panelling and red/orange/brown tones thats honestly just me wanting some contrast/interest while also keeping it simple. we'll see if i do anything more complicated than that anytime soon lmao, these pieces take long enough as is !!

hopefully tumblr doesn’t fuck up the cut (again) so not everyone has to read all of this, but tysm to those of you who do!! I put a lot of thought and research into these pieces and love sharing what info I find so feel free to talk to me about any and all of it !!!! and hope you enjoyed ofc

[rossy-mossy]

Wanna talk about Bloodweave and the spawn siblings, specifically how Astarions siblings would interact with Gale in that ending where they settle down in the under dark (and gale starts a vampire book club 🤓)

(DISCLAIMER Since don't know too much about Astarions siblings (more so than others) , alot of this is just me having fun and assigning character traits to them according to how I imagine my game went)

Starting with these two!

Dalyria:

I think these two would get along incredibly well! I can see them talking for hours about their respective (sometimes morally dubious) research, boring absolutely anyone within earshot. I think they could bond over some questionable decisions they've made (gale with the orb And Dal with trying to cure her vampirism with Victoria.) and find comfort in one another . Especially since I HC gayle saves Victoria in game but more on that in Leon's section. Out of all the siblings, Dal is the only one Astarion trusts to leave gale alone with.

Also think Dals research leads to gale finding a way for astarion and the others to walk in the sun again. I don't think she joins the book club tho bc Leon is often there and well... Y'know awkward... But gale does leave a book on her desk from time to time.

Petras:

ahh the spawn I love thinking about post game the most bc I think Petras develops a big crush on Gale. I see it being pretty gradual tbh, He doesn't like Gale at first because he's Astarions and Petras has made it a habit to dislike everything about his "older brother" thank you very much (even though I think petras entire coping mechanism is to badly copy everything about astarion bc he subconsciously thinks it was the only way to survive his enslavement, hence they way he talks and Astarions fucking EA outfit, he stole it from Astarions trunk when he disappeared I just know it) .

So yeah I think it's a few months of Petras being huffy around this handsome annoying wizard while Gale continues to be nice to him. One day Gale offers to teach petras magic (he's a teacher by heart!) much like the canon weave scene and it ends with Gale genuinely but naively exclaiming "You're a natural! Why, you've picked it even faster than Astarion did!"

This is cataclysmic.

It's the first fucking time Petras has been better than Astarion in anything. Petras is immediately heart eyes and obnoxiously smug. Astarion is murderous. Leon and Dal stop a murder. Gale is sent to sleep on the couch.

Any potential brotherly reconcilation is destroyed by Astarion overhearing Petras telling Dal that when Astarion fucks this up then Petras will swoop in and marry Gale. Violet begins to cackle as all of her siblings hold Astarion ,whose now willing to lose an arm, back from dragging Petras to the surface

Petras joins the book club just bc Gale's leading it. He does not read anything but pesters Yousen for answers so he can look smart in front of Gale.

Doing the others next time!

[charliedawn]

Hey! How would father!Michael Myers feel about Eddie Gluskin wanting Michael's 25 year old daughter who is also a patient in the asylum to be his wife?

How are you?

(I am fine. How about you ?)

It started the day when you were transferred from another asylum to St Louis. Female patients weren’t usually allowed, but you were made an exception because Michael wouldn’t go anywhere without his precious daughter. You had grown up surrounded by slashers and hence, not much scared you.

When Eddie Gluskin was admitted in St Louis, he wasn’t introduced to you because…well…Michael.

But one day, you happened to wake up before your father and come down for some breakfast when you accidentally met Eddie. You were both stunned. You had never met before and Eddie wasn’t even aware that there were any women around other than the nurses.

Your eyes met and once the shock over, he decided to pretend being too busy with his coffee to speak. You quickly realised it was best not to stare, so you decided to just go toast yourself some slices of bread for breakfast.

There was silence.

Eddie glanced a few times in your direction, but didn’t speak a word. Neither did you. Michael had taught you not to speak to strangers, so you didn’t. You hence didn’t speak until you were back upstairs and took a deep breath. He was…gorgeous. You decided not to speak to your father about that little episode.

He wouldn’t have understood and besides…you probably wouldn’t see him again.

…

But then, you started waking up early everyday to get breakfast and Eddie was there—like clockwork. You never spoke, but awkward silence turned to shy smiles and little glances here and there…until one day.

You were about to get back to your room when you stopped dead in your tracks and looked down at the pancakes in your plate…Surely, Michael would not mind being short of a few, right ? You took a deep breath and backtracked to sit down next to him. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

"…You like pancakes ?" You asked. He remained silent for a moment before looking at you. He stayed silent for a moment before he finally smiled.

"I do enjoy a good pancake. Would you care to share ?"

It was the first time you were hearing his voice. It sounded soft and a little hushed—as if he wasn’t used of using it all that much. You smiled back.

"Not at all." You then proceeded to serve him pancakes and Eddie smiled again before digging in.

"I’m Y/N Myers by the way." You introduced yourself and his pale blue eyes looked up at you.

"Eddie. Eddie Gluskin."

From that day onwards, you started spending time with Eddie.

You started watching him and tried to understand who he really was. Eddie was respectful and polite and seemed like the perfect gentleman. You didn’t know why a man like him would be admitted to a mental institution—especially since he seemed so clear-minded.

From what you had heard, he had just transferred from a place called Mount Massive asylum. He hadn’t brought it up though, so you guessed that it wasn’t a fond memory of his. You couldn’t have access to files, but you had heard nurses speak about a certain ‘Waylon Park’. Once you started your research, you were able to understand what his past was and why he was here.

But, you were not one to judge too quickly, especially being Michael’s daughter offered you perspective and that not everything was as it seemed.

The more you shared, the closer you got…until one day, Eddie was the one preparing breakfast and before you could protest, he had invited you to sit down and get a taste. You sat down and started eating with a grin on your face and Eddie seemed happy that you’d eat his food.

"Good, darling. Really good." He cooed and you smiled—completely oblivious…until your vision started faltering and you realised that Eddie had surely drugged you. In a matter of seconds, you were asleep. He then picked you up bridal style and smirked as he proceeded to carry you to his bedroom.

"Sleep soundly, my darling. Sweet dreams."

———————————————————————

After your ‘disappearance’, Michael was desperate and he knocked at every door, searched every dark spot in the entire asylum. He could not find you anywhere and finally called your name over and over again. He usually never used his voice, but this was an emergency. Finally…he got news.

Eddie came to him with a letter.

…

An invitation to your wedding.

"…"

Michael looked up at him in shock. He couldn’t believe it and before anyone could stop him, he had taken Eddie by the throat and threw him against a wall.

"You took her ?!"

He then proceeded to wrap his hand around Eddie’s throat and squeezed. But, Eddie wasn’t afraid. Eddie took a moment before standing back up and claiming:

"We are in love…"

Michael remained silent for a moment before bashing Eddie’s head against the wall.

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER ?!"

Suddenly, nurses and doctors and guards came in to stop the fight and some of them had to tackle down Michael to make him stop turning Eddie’s head into mush. Michael’s knuckles had turned red by the time he was dragged out of the room.

Fortunately, you were found in Eddie’s room…in a closet. He had tied you up and drugged you. Fortunately, no harm was done to you and you were brought back to Michael safe and sound.

But you could not help yourself to ask why.

Why had he done this ?

So, you went to his cell.

"…Eddie ?" There was no movement for a couple of minutes before Eddie slowly turned his head towards you and smiled.

"Darling."

You sighed before asking him.

"Why ? Why did you do this ? I thought we were friends."

Eddie clicked his tongue.

"Please, darling. Do not insult me. You knew what I wanted. I am a patient, just as much as you. I would assume you already knew about me and the reasons that brought me here, no ?"

You shuddered at the look he gave you.

"…You knew I liked you. You could have waited." You told him with a sad smile and Eddie laughed.

"Oh my sweet sweet darling." He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. "I have WAITED my entire existence to find my perfect wife. And now that I have finally found you…my ALMOST perfect wife…You expect me to wait some more ?"

He smirked and your heart paced rapidly in your chest. He released you and you took a few steps back.

"A-Almost ?" You asked and he chuckled.

"Yes. Almost. You will be my wife. But first, we have got to get rid of your FATHER, darling."

Your eyes widened in shock and you shook your head. He tilted his head and his smirk softened as his eyes bored into yours.

"Don’t you worry, my love. I will be the one taking care of everything for you…We will soon be together. As it was intended. You and I. Me and my sweet wife…Just wait for me, as I have waited for you."

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare and queen elizabeth i would’ve gossiped about.

chapter ii. ✷ chapter iv.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — you can’t lie, shakespeare’s got a mouth on him.

( ♬ ) — they’ve ordered everyone out the room. peering through the window as we speak.

( ✎ ) — someone tell him to put that poor teacup down.

( ♛ ) — her majesty royally gasped. she’s clutching her pearls, bless her.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: we’re on part three already? damn, times flies. if you’re new here, welcome to the shakespeare series where i write essays about fics that would absolutely annihilate shakespeare — hence the name. if you haven’t read the past two chapters, you can access them in the masterlist above! let’s get into it.

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( ♛ ) MATILDA — by @babystrcandy

!! yoongi x reader | 141.8k !!

brothers best friend au, angst, fluff, eventual smut.

my therapist would absolutely adore this fanfic. maybe i should recommend it to her. or just send her the link. she’d be thrilled.

this series is dedicated to anyone who felt like the second choice, the one always forgotten about, the so-called disappointment, the people pleaser, the perfectionist, the one whose family has let them down over and over again.

reading this, alike reading anything else, transports you to another world. however, the difference between this one and all others, is this makes you feel safe. secure. a safe place. a sanctuary you never realised even existed, where you feel accepted and loved. it takes the idea of home and really drills it in.

if you find yourself relating to this story, like i did, i want to you to know i see you and i truly hope one day you find everything you were deprived of growing up. you deserve peace. you deserve love.

while you’re at it, go give this author some love for seeing us, listening to us, and validating our experiences. and for writing such a beautiful story.

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( ♬ ) DILF JK — by @venusiangguk

!! jungkook x reader | 85.5k !!

strangers to lovers, dad!jk, friends with benefits, smut (18+), fluff.

if some army’s weren’t such delulu’s and so consumed by the imaginary idea that they’ll one day marry a bts member and live happily ever after, this is the type of shit we’d actually get. but no, we’re forever plagued by fiction because of a few overly obsessed wankers.

rant aside, dilf!jk is a concept. one that needs to be studied and researched for my own personal needs. because i thought dilf!namjoon was dangerous (and he most certainly is), but dilf!jk is a whole other… thing? being? story? i’ll leave that to the researchers.

personally, i love when authors mould fiction and reality into one body. they blend the two concepts together to create something beautiful, and this was duly noted within the topic of the age gap. deciding on something real for the benefit of both parties in a fictional story is so fucking applaudable. or perhaps i’m just an angsty fucker, sorry.

most definitely worth all the tissues and all the cheek aching. talking from experience.

i mean, it’s got ‘dilf’ in the title, is that not enough? it’s what made me click, anyways. i’m a dilf lover through and through.

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( ♬ ) A SERPENT’S FLOWER — by @jimlingss & @dovechim

!! jimin x reader | 34.2k !!

fluff, smut (18+), lil angst, hogwarts!au.

realistically, you knew at some point in this series there would be a harry potter!au thrown in somewhere, didn’t you? i mean, come on now. and i’m so happy this is the first one.

this two-parter and it’s sequel both are both due the respect they deserve. the perfect opposites attract trope? enemies to lovers? with a quick-witted slytherin reader and an even wittier hufflepuff park jimin? fuck me, don’t mind if i do.

i never say a fanfic has everything. but this fanfic has everything. character, romance, humour, angst, wit, the list goes on. it’s a fanfic buffet: it’s got it all, and you just help yourself.

and i realise some people don’t read the sequels to fanfics (i know), but i beg of you. read the sequel too. if anything, i think the sequel was my favourite bit. and i know some people don’t like the pregnancy trope, but i’m telling you there definitely is a time and place for it. and this is the time! and the place! trust me.

did i cry at the end of this fic? i can’t remember. but the probability is higher than i’d like it to be.

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( ✮ ) ZERO GRAVITY — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x hoseok x reader | 11k !!

space!au, poly!au, angst, smut (18+), crack, fluff.

if someone doesn’t drop me on a spaceship with two of the hottest men on the planet in the next fortnight, i’m suing. don’t know who that’ll be yet, but some poor sod will have his hands full, that’s for certain.

i love space!au fics with my whole heart and ass. honestly, every time one comes up on my page, i have to save it. it’s a reflex at this point, they’re just too good. you know what is also too good? the built up tension within this fic. jaw-dropping.

i’m not giving out any spoilers, but the author really said, bonk— here is the nastiest smut you’ve ever read in your life. take it, or get fucked. and of course, i took it. but nothing really prepares you for that atmosphere change. not even the sex club was remotely ready. and it’s a sex club.

not going to lie, before writing this essay, i actually went back and read it again, just to make sure i was in the right mind the first time i read it. and yep, sure was. it’s just shocking how insane this fic is.

btw, anyone fancy a visit to throbbing disco sticks? i need a word with the person who came up with the name. and perhaps a kiss too.

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( ✎ ) NO CHOICE (NEXT TO YOU) — by @gukyi

!! yoongi x reader | 13k !!

college!au, frat boy!au, neighbour!au, enemies to lovers.

miscommunication. my lover in fanfics, my worst enemy in real life. hence why i love this fic so much. because it’s not real life. (unfortunately).

we’ve all done that thing where we’ve accidentally eavesdropped onto something we shouldn’t of and one thing leads to another and boom, you find yourself misreading the whole situation. and you’re lying if you say you haven’t.

well, that’s this fic for you. times a thousand. honestly, enemies to lovers fics never do me wrong. they’re always a joy to read — the thrill and the very, very prominent sexual tension keeps you excited, waiting on the edge of your seat to see how everything plans out.

my point? this fic never bores you out. read it a thousand times and it still feels like the first. and not a lot of fanfics have that power, i’ll tell you that. a few, yes. but not a lot.

don’t take reading this for the first time for granted. wish i had that privilege. jealous.

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( ✎ ) THE PRINCE’S CINDERELLA SYNDROME — by @jimilter

!! jimin x reader | 39.4k !!

cursed!jimin, supernatural!au, strangers to lovers!au angst, smut, fluff.

this fic altered my brain chemistry permanently. there’s no going back. i’m officially ruined, you guys. i don’t even know who i was before i read this. it was just- bang, clean slate.

to begin with, i thought ‘this bitch saw him twice and her knees buckled. what the fuck.’ but then i realised that bitch is me, and the so-called him is referring to thee park jimin, so really. i got it. who wouldn’t absolutely power move it after seeing such a sight? i might just jog a little. sprint on a good day.

i would happily write a five thousand word essay for you on how fucking good this plot slash idea was, and an additional ten thousand on how sad, but i don’t think my fingers— nor my mental state would be able to go through that. not again. please.

but as i mentioned in the last fic above, do not take reading this for the first time for granted. however, only because you will lose all rationality.

shakespeare most definitely plagiarised this fic. he wrote it down and her majesty knows. that’s why he looked so proud of himself at tea. the sneaky fucker. just he wait until i tell @jimilter.

sobbing. again. or is this the fourth time?

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( ✎ ) ALWAYS IN MY DREAMS — by @kookskingdom

!! namjoon x reader | 15.4k !!

soulmates!au, fluff, angst, minor character death.

i mean, i already sleep too fucking much. only being able to meet my soulmate through my dreams would just make me comatose. you’d never hear from me. ever.

and yes, you saw the tag. it’s another soulmate!au because everyone knows how much nini loves her hopeless romance. but! who doesn’t. they’re too good to scroll past. so when i finally read this, i knew it was going in the series.

the unknown certainty between the pair of when their next encounter would be with each other, causing them to cherish every single second, that. that’s what i want please. someone who drinks up my existence knowing we will soon part from each other. i cannot.

i love, love, love the concept of soulmates, fate, destiny, whatever. the whole shabang. i bathe in it. so, of course, this fic was a big hit with me. and if that too is your thing, and you love the idea of two souls being intwined inside and out, this is your golden ticket.

@kookskingdom is mentioned in this chapter twice. but can you blame me? you find a ticket to the chocolate factory, of course you’re going to hold onto it as tightly as possible.

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( ✮ ) VOICEMAIL — by @joonary

!! seokjin x reader | 7k !!

fluff, humour, friends to lovers, college podcast!au.

you know those dramas where both the two main characters are so completely smitten with each other to the point you’re practically screaming at your screen for them to “just kiss already!” but won’t because they’re hopelessly oblivious, even though everyone is telling them how in love they both are? yeah, that’s this fic. in a nutshell.

though in their defence, i feel i would definitely do the same. but still, does it stop me from getting frustrated with them? no. i was absolutely raging.

this cute story was so, so sweet i was practically clutching the phone for an emergency appointment to the dentist. my teeth were rotting with all the added sugar, like hello? my teeth? but just like chocolate is, it’s addicting. and you can’t stop yourself.

perhaps i’m just a sucker for friends to lovers fics, but this one particularly caught my attention. it’s 5k of pure infuriation, and 2k of fluff.

but so worth the impatience.

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( ♬ ) FALL IN HATRED — by @jimlingss

!! seokjin x reader | 20k !!

divorce!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+), marriage!au.

first bullet point is just the thought of fuck me, ‘cause where do i start with this?

separation — in some ways — is the easy way out. you just get up and leave. walk out, whatever. boom, just like that. but the emotional repercussions are what make it so distressing. making that daunting decision to leave something— someone in our past, may be one of the hardest things we humans ever have to do.

this fic goes through the rough battle of what it means to be committed to a person. the battles of finally giving up on someone you once thought the world of. and honestly? that may be my worst fear. for someone to love me so deeply, and then lose that over time to see me as nothing more than an inconvenience of their past.

never been through divorce. hopefully you, nor i, will ever have to. but after reading this, i don’t think we have to experience it.

this amazing, yet painfully angsty fic does it for us. and a fucking incredible ending.

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( ♛ ) THE ROAD TO RADIANT — by @kookskingdom

!! jungkook x reader | 25.9k !!

gamer!au, streamer!au, fluff, angst, smut, rivals to friends to lovers!au.

this got a crown on the shakespeare state chart purely for the fact i have never played valorant in my life, and single-handedly managed to impress my friends — who are obsessed with said game — about my newfound knowledge of gaming, purely from this fic alone. felt like a fucking genius.

i was going to add this to part four, but i genuinely had to swap some fics around to put this baby in. i found space for her, so she’s here. and deservedly so. why wait?

this fic does a very good job of highlighting the deep misogyny and sexism that runs within the gaming community towards women. like, can women not be good at gaming too? do people really believe gaming is purely a man thing? is this really the society we live in? yikes.

and if you do happen to read this fic and reach that argument scene with jungkook, please let me know. i want you to know i, too, was absolutely fuming. phones were thrown. naughty words were said. angry voice messages to said best friend were recorded.

final special mention for the smut scene. had me sweating like a sinner in church. lord have mercy.

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( ♬ ) BRASS AND STRINGS — by @jimlingss

!! namjoon x reader | 113.7k !!

slice of life!au, fluff, slow burn, college!au, music!au.

take a shot every time this author is mentioned within this series. you’ll end up blackout pissed. it’s a shame they left this platform, but i hope they’re doing well. their fics have really left an impact on me. and i’ll forever be grateful.

ah, yes. the cheesy clichéd trope of the mean girl and the nerd. a mix of two completely different personalities and flavours that supposedly fit together like two broken pieces of a puzzle. the very foundation of a 2000’s romcom. an iconic pairing that has been hammered into us by the media since day one.

it’s the opposites attract that lured me in initially, but it’s the character development throughout the story that nestled itself into my heart, and got me to stay. this fic holds dear to me still.

i have gatekept this fic long enough, and i am trusting you to bear it with love and extreme care. like you’re holding a small, fragile baby in your arms. do not let me down. please.

one more thing, don’t share this with shakespeare. every time he’s brought it up, i’ve told him it was a really weird dream and he’s only just started to believe me. yes, i feel shit about it, but it has to be done. the man’s a menace.

⠀

( ✮ ) TANGLED WEBS — by @ughseoks

!! jungkook x reader | 14.1k !!

spiderman!au, soulmate!au (yup), angst, fluff.

if any of you say a word about the second tag, i will fight. i will never stop recommending them. me and the soulmates!au are soulmates. irony at its finest.

i genuinely wish spidey!jk was a real adaptation. because even though andrew is my favourite spiderman, i fear there is a large difference between the pair that separates them. andrew can play peter parker. jungkook can (re: could) play peter parker. but could andrew play jungkook? no.

in this fic, the whole characterisation of both jungkook as spiderman and the soulmate!reader is so well written. you can perfectly picture jungkook being that awkward high school boy by day, and secret superhero vigilante by night. i mean, fuck me. how is he not knackered all the time?

mixing in that final zest of soulmates!au everyone (re: me) loves, you’ve got yourself a hell of a plot line.

romeo and juliet were not soulmates, shakespeare. they were children. why aren’t you taking notes? stop talking to the queen. she’s tired of all your bullshit. and so are we.

© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.

⠀

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

My pupils

Ungrateful, Arrogant, Lazy, there were many words Kalego could use to describe his students. Many of them were imbeciles. Undisciplined. Hence why he was placed in charge of such a rowdy bunch.

He had had troublesome students before. It was no different than any other year he taught at the school. However... he never took into account how difficult the next few years would be.

To think it all started with one brat! The grandson of the chairdemon himself. He honestly wished he could have gone back in time and retired as soon as he heard about the attendance of such a creature.

His foolish pride had thought he could tame such a wild child within a few days. Having him easily under heel. He couldn't have been more wrong.

That little menace had the nerve to prove him wrong! Having no respect for authority and tuning him into a familiar. The audacity!

It wasn't just him that caused the teacher such a headache. No, he had twelve other rascals to handle as well. What did he do in his past life to enable such torture?

Individually, it probably wouldn't be so bad. But no... he had them all together. Everyday... for the next 6 agonizing years.

He often wondered if he'd survive such a daunting task for so long. Of course, his pride wouldn't allow him to quit. It would be shameful on both the school and his name if he were to do so.

So, as much as it pained him, he would stay. Despite the urge to resign. Truthfully, someone would probably drag him back even if he were to do so. Another irritating reality.

Some things were easy to brush off. Such as Allocers constant questions and interest in obtaining more knowledge. Just answer plainly offering research materials for reference.

Or working around Kerori's work schedule as an idol. As well as sending her study aids so she doesn't risk lowering her grades. Practically child's play.

Now, dealing with Jazz's sticky fingers could be annoying. Forcing apologies out of the young demon and attempting to keep the greedy child humble.

Not that it helped since he had an enabler like Lied. The cocky little imp thinking he could get away with such childish pranks so easily. He often had to discipline the pair.

Speaking discipline... he still needed to figure out a proper punishment for Kamui... again. Why is it so difficult for that bird brain to understand that the female students don't appreciate such actions? He has the nerve to call himself a gentleman with such an attitude.

At least he could say he's also seen growth in some of his students. Take Sabro, for example. That prideful attitude of his was far more manageable than when the child first arrived. Far more humble.

Or Soi, who constantly hid. Now, he actively participates and interacts with his classmates. A vast improvement.

If only he could get Picero to stop sleeping in class. That would be preferable. Instead, he constantly has to smack the drowsy teen awake.

Goemon has a rather interesting positivity. Now if only he could somehow apply that to his grades. That would certainly make things easier.

He wasn't amused by Elizabetta's attempts to get better grades by using her bloodline magic or flirting. He constantly had to remind his coworkers not to go easy on her just because of her looks. Although he was quite proud of how she handled the music festival.

Then, there was the matter of Iruma's two main subordinates. Or friends as he called them. The chaos that those two caused alone was a mountain of paperwork.

Never in a million years did he think that such a vigorous student like Alice could be so blinded by one individual. It's as if the boy forgot about his own growth. Does he have no dignity?

... thinking that he probably doesn't. Seeing as he's so obsessed with his superior that it's borderline insane. Not that clara is any better.

Her grades aren't exactly the best. Her loud, rambunctious attitude disturbs the other students attending any class she's in. Honestly, he's not sure what to do with such a wild thing.

He's half tempted to keep her on a leash to ensure she doesn't wander off. Although knowing that gremlin, she'd easily escape. If only she focused that energy on her assignments.

Still, despite all their flaws. Ignoring their constants defiance to the higherarchy. He would still admit they were his pupils.

He was their teacher. He would guide them into becoming powerful demons. He'd see them all graduate on time even if it'd kill him.

[hanafubukki]

Malleus Draconia’s Flower Bouquet Meaning

Twst Bdays Flower Language Masterlist

I have been waiting and waiting for the release of Malleus’ 3rd Bday card with such anticipation. I literally waited every day until the time Twst JP usually updates with news for some semblance of Malleus Bday card news.

AND NOW MY BOY IS HERE AND HE LOOKS SO FINE PLEASE. His smirk with the fangs sends me. His wink is so cute! Lilia is raising these boys right! Look at HIM.

January is the moth of Diasomnia and I love it, we have Malleus, Lilia, Silver and Sebek card releases. (Diasomnia Stans I hope your gems survive). 

As I did with Lilia’s Bouquet Post , I will be writing more than I usually do. Malleus Draconia is one of my favorite twst characters and he deserves it and all the effort (in this love essay, I will). In addition, I will be adding possible theories along the way and will be mentioning book 7 too and other cards that have been released, so heed spoilers for book 7 and cards that might have not released yet.

At first glance, Malleus’ Bouquet reminded me of Trey’s Bouquet . In the sense that it reminded me of a salad, and I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because of it. When you think about some of the meanings previously discussed in Trey’s Bouquet, it applies to Malleus as well when you think about it: past, present, and future. But I’m getting ahead of myself, we will discuss that later.

It’s really nice seeing Malleus so happy especially without any worries right now (basically flirting with us lolol). After book 7 chapter 1, I am happy he is full of energy and amusement. 

I do wish that his bouquet had more colors to make it pop more, but like Lilia’s, Malleus’ bouquet does fit him rather well. It can give you a glimpse of his past and current mindset, and also a hint to the future of what may come. (please, my heart.) 

Some observations from just from a glance, Malleus’ bouquet may not pop as much color wise, but you know what it does really well? It blends into the environment rather seamlessly.  Unlike Trey, who doesn't like to stand out and would rather blend in, which shows in his flowers. For malleus, it is not by choice. He blends in seamlessly because he is forgotten by those around him. When he is not forgotten, people are scared of him and tend to run away. The only ones to truly notice him missing are Lilia, Sebek, Silver, and MC.

We know that Malleus hates being forgotten and left out and this bouquet shows that while he blends in to the environment, it is not by choice and some of the flower meanings show his feelings towards being forgotten and ostracized. (I’ll never forget you Malleus 💕💕). 

Greem flowers tend to be rare and on further research, they also tend to be mutations in some variations of flowers. This fits Malleus because we can all say that he is a highly respected figure, not only is he a future king in the Valley of Thorns, but he is one of the top ten strongest mages in the world. If we went further, Malleus is a type of dragon fae, and royalty, maybe he might or might not be the last of his kind? Only time will tell, as we know the only relative he has right now is his grandmother. I

In terms of magic power, malleus is extremely strong and we can see how the story swings and the narrative changes when he deigns to step in and help. Book 5, Malleus fixed the stage hence allowing for VDC to continue, and in book 6, he helped Vil by making him young again. We have seen in masquerade the magic potential he has and how that affects the environment as well, and in book 7 a well. Malleus is unique and rare, and that could also show why he is so revered heavily by everyone else when all he wants is to be invited and share experiences with others.

I love how Malleus is also winking in this card, as he is in other cards. You certainly get the Diasomnia closeness as because sebek was also winking in his cards. We also have the smile that Lilia and Silver all share too, which I think is cute! I might be wrong but I think all the third years so far have been winking?

Now, let’s talk about some rather interesting...moves that twst played with the release of this Malleus card. First of all, with the release of the Malleus Bday card, We also received the Silver Dorm SSR card. This is interesting because this is the first time they released a Dorm SSR card without a story update. What’s more, its rather interesting they chose to release it with the Malleus card which makes me wonder how purposely did they do this? Was this as a way to show the connection Silver and Malleus has? 

As in a sense, Malleus can be paralleled to Maleficent and Silver could be Aurora (and the Sword, Shield, and Prince Philip technically) from what we see on the surface level. It's as if they are telling us these two are more connected than we realize and maybe they are a mirror too (or like that one promo where you see Maleficent on one side and the princess on another as two opposite spectrums).

Considering the opposite styles that Malleus and Silver were raise (by Lilia no less), it hurts to see how much this is stressed. You can tell familial love will play a big role in book7 from this alone. It also makes it seem like they are pushing Malleus to play this evil role that he clearly doesn't want to be in when all he wants is to belong and be invited.

Another interesting point I want to bring up is that, Silver is the only one without the title that basically says “___ Protector of the Valley of Thorns” Instead, He is the sleeping guardian. So, we have this disconnect between the four and shows how much of the role Silver might play when it comes to the other three diasomnia residents.  This Post shows the English titles  and this post is a jp comment about it as well I believe .

It alludes more and more to the fact that Silver has a connection to ‘dreams’ and that could also be a hint on how Malleus and everyone could be saved given that Malleus is the King of the Abyss as well. Maybe, Silver’s UM is connected to dreams as everyone speculate, but I digress. We know at the end of the day, these two have a connection and only time will tell what kind of connection and what it will put everyone through (and how it will eventually wreck us too, get your tissue boxes ready everyone. Book 7 chapter 1 already came for us without reprieve.)

Another fact that I find funny is that Malleus’ Duo is Ace. So, I can’t wait to see how Ace and Malleus interact given that Ace....doesn’t care for manners when it comes to people in power and will basically say what's on his mind. Which, we can see from Endless Halloween. I also personally find it funny because many people tend to ship MC with Ace and Malleus and these two always end up in a triangle and I can’t wait to see what happens after the interview lol Ace also doesn’t have his UM so maybe its a hint of Ace’s role in Book 7 (he could be hiding it as well, since we know how much of a trickster he is).

Malleus’ card spells are similar to those of Idia’s Bday ones apparently. Which is funny and interesting given that Idia will play a big role in book 7, especially in terms of grief and moving on and recovering from the loss of a loved one.

I can’t wait to see Malleus’ groovy. I hope its either in dawn or dusk because that would not only be beautiful but give a wonderful symbolism as well. 

Malleus holding the bouquet so effortlessly also shows his strength, I mean look at him, no struggle at all.

You know what makes me so soft about Malleus’ bouquet? It’s that he has signs of those he loves in his bouquet. He has flowers that symbolizes Lilia, Sebek, Silver, and even MC/Yuu.

Now, lets talk about Flowers 🌺💚🌺💚

[As usual, my disclaimer from before stands, flowers have many different meanings depending on region and color, so the meanings I have might differ from the meanings you know.]

In addition, I know there were some feelings of sadness going around with Malleus’ bouquet because most of the associated flower language were negative, but remember every flower has more than one meaning and together, the flower language can change as a whole depending on the bouquet. It also depends on the meaning we choose to empathize over the others. 

His flowers are kind of hard to tell, so I put whichever ones I thought they might be. Get your hearts ready and anything you have that has Malleus’ face because you are going to want to hug him. (total opposite from how I wanted to yeet Lilia during his post lol) 

Flower Colors (general meaning): 

Green Flowers: Health, resilience, good fortune, and youth. We know Malleus is young in terms of Fae age and we know he also has to learn and mature more when in comes to certain instances over the others. Some examples we have seen was when things didn’t go his way and you can see the weather being affected, but also we have to consider that he never really got to act his age has he? Health and good fortune for his future.

White Flowers:  True love, purity, innocence, sympathy.  We know True Love Kiss plays a role in Sleeping Beauty and I can’t wait to see how it plays a role for book 7. In a way, Malleus is innocent in his experience with anything related to modern times, and his situation does make you feel for him. (Malleus, we love you 💕).

Red Flowers: Love, passion, pride, vigor, and strength. (rather fitting, wouldn’t you say?) 

Bouquet:

Green Roses: Renewal, rejuvenation of spirit and energy, growth, abundance, balance, stability, peace, good news and new beginnings. Possibly the future healing that Malleus will go through? (you know, after his mental breakdown...I know know, I’ll be quiet now) [To my knowledge, green roses do not mean jealously. It’s the yellow roses.] I was hoping they would give him red roses to symbolize his rose garden back home too. 

Carnation: Fascination, distinction, and love. In Greek, it is known as God’s Flower.  As some tend to worship Malleus like a God, it's rather fitting for him to have this flower. (Sebek and some diasomnia students come to mind).

Curcuma/Hidden Lilies: Love, Rebirth, Devotion, Purity, Fertility, clear and sincere intentions. When I first saw these, my mind literally went Lilies = Lilia and with several of the meanings it makes you wonder doesn’t it? Especially as Rebirth seems to be a themes in Malleus and Lilia’s bouquet. (Sleeping curse maybe?) These also look like the flowers you see in the Live Action Sleeping Beauty 2 Movie, during the wedding. You know when Maleficent walks Aurora down the Aisle. So it could also be stressing the relationship Malleus has with Silver. Technically, all three of them. Can be used to treated stomach problems and this makes me laugh because Lilia had stomach problems in that one Firelit Sky event, hence another factor in representing Lilia.

Green Lisanthus: Appreciation, charm, charisma, and confidence. (Malleus in a flower basically 💕)

Cala Lily (Burgundy): Life’s right of passage, purity, holiness, faithfulness, courage and determination. (Silver and Sebek determination to protecting their Lord.) 

Dracaena Fragans: meaning Dragon, financial and career success (he will make wonderful king), peace and good fortune.

Amaryllis: to sparkle, pride, strength, determination. These flowers blooms every year despite looking frail and it doesn’t take much to have them grow year after year. An interesting story is about a maiden who fell in love with a cold hearted man. She pierced her heart with a gold arrow and visited his cottage. After 30 days, her droplets of blood became beautiful flowers and the man fell in love with her and she was healed. Another type of Amaryllis is the cluster ones, we know it as the spider lilies. Common ones are the red spider lilies which is basically a red flag because it usually means death and last goodbye. This could symbolize the long life Malleus has ahead of him as well. White Amaryllis means beauty, devotion, and love. In addition, White Amaryllis symbolizes children and the innocence that comes from them. It reminds me of the story that Malleus told MC about how he just wanted to belong and had a tantrum that led to the castle becoming frozen in ice. Lilia was the only one who stepped forward and helped him and it implies that's how Malleus ended up loving ice cream. (My heeearrrttt) Also, the other story of how Lilia had his hair burned because baby malleus blew fire too lolol.

Houseleeks/Succulent: Always Living, enduring and timeless love, forever, does not change, Will live in harsh environments (My heart damnit, my heart).

Elderberry/Elder: inner strength, courage, calm fears, resilience, joy, protection from evil, prolong life, and peaceful sleep. “Eld” can also mean fire.

Olives: friendship and reconciliation, cleansing and healing, light, victory and richness, and above all, a sign of peace. (I’m not crying, you are!).

Hypericum Berries: symbol of peace, protection, rebirth 

Acai Palm: Nutritious, growth in wilderness.

Thistle: Pain, aggressiveness, pride, and Protection.

Cordylines: Added to flowers to add emphasize to other flowers meanings, good luck, and fortune. Often it is confused with Dracaena. 

Random Fact: Anniversaries could also be considered, since its the 3rd bdays for all the boys, their flower will be Sunflower: strength  be well, happiness, male healing, confidence, self-esteem, assertiveness. Sounds just like them, doesn’t it?

Credit: Thank you to Lala (@/mobagehellocal) for her help as always. Please go talk flowers with her too. We love talking about them. 🌺🌻

[fenricken]

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 1/7

Ao3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

next

Summary:

Danny has been getting the hang of this whole “Ancient of Doors”, “Apprentice to Clockwork”, “Dad to the Chaos Gremlin Dani” thing, and he’s really starting to find his flow! Sure, he sometimes misses the life that could’ve been, but overall everything has been great! Sure doesn’t need anything throwing a tangle in things.

Bruce is suffering. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or what the hell is going on. All he’s running on is instinct and strange forces propelling him towards some end he’s not entirely certain of.

Basically, Danny tries to help Batman over the course of events covered in Batman:Return of Bruce Wayne

Chapter One:

“Clockwork? Are you here? I got your message.” Danny floated up the tower, peeking behind cogs and pendulums, hoping to find a glimpse of his teacher’s signature purple cloak.

It had been a long time since certain… events had led Danny to become a far more permanent resident of the Infinite Realms. Of course, he wasn’t alone, as much of Amity had also followed him here to carve out a new life all together, his friends and family included.

Danny had since reached maturity and been recognized as Ancient of Doors for his actions. When faced with his evil future self, he strove to find another path where he didn’t become that future self. When Dani was revealed to be with the enemy, he chose to love her still, rather than hate her as many would. When he was faced with a reality where he was famous, and accepted by his parents, he chose to undo all of that for the peace and safety of his friends and family. While he now knew his parent’s acceptance would always come, he still had to make the choice then to put his trust in them and reveal himself so his friends could be saved when the GIW came to destroy Amity Park. And so, for his commitment to forging new paths, always finding another choice, and braving the unknown he was named Ancient of Doors. 

Sam had also found her own mentor in Undergrowth, working hard as his apprentice to aid him in his duties as Ancient of Wild Growth. Tucker and Technus had quickly formed a rivalry, both competing to see who would reign supreme as the Infinite Realm’s ultimate tech master. Jazz had found her purpose in the Department of Lost Souls, as an advisor to those who weren’t certain about their afterlife, and what they wanted to do with it. After Jack and Maddie’s change of heart with regards to ghosts, it was not long before they found new purpose in investigating and researching the many mysteries of the Infinite Realms and beyond.

While he and his friends had reached their own maturity, Dani had remained a child. Something about “It’s easier to cause chaos this way” and “No one ever suspects the baby”. Danny’s fondness for his clone only grew until he saw her less as a cousin and more as a daughter. Ultimately, it was only a surprise for Danny and Dani when the ghost-bond snapped in place, formally cementing her as his daughter, to both of their suffering.

Currently, she was out in one of the universes, chasing after some hybrid spider-pig, Danny thinks. Unless she got distracted and went to hang out with Klarion again, in an effort to “maximize joint chaos”. Tucker and Sam were both busy with their respective duties, Jazz was at work, and last he checked Mom and Dad were elbows deep in a mech suit they were hoping to get working off an Infinite Realms Corn-based fuel Sam had created. Danny had been feeling quite bored before he got the summons from Clockwork, and had jumped on it right away, hence his surprise at not being able to find his Mentor anywhere.

Danny had finally reached the top of the tower. He could see a table set up with a small tea service, but still no Clockwork. Figuring there’s nothing else to do, Danny pours himself a cup of tea, and settles in to wait.

—

Who is he? What is this place? His hand rests against a cool, smooth surface that appears so at odds with the rest of his surroundings-rocky ground, a red sky, and the water lapping against the cliff-side. There is nothing, and no one else that he sees, except – a cave. He stumbles in, visions of symbols surfacing in his brain- two “W”s, an “S”, a bat. He carves these into the rock-face desperate to have a visual trigger that would help him remember anything, but nothing comes.

A rock clatters against the floor of the cave, followed by someone’s voice. He approaches, steadily, entering into the light. Four men stand before him, weapons raised. They say something else, but he can’t understand.

“Where am I? What is this place?”

They do not answer him, but pull back their weapons. They introduce themselves, and speak some more. Names, he realizes- Man, Boy, Giant, Surly, Joker. This last one gives him pause, tickles something in his brain that upsets him, but soon his eyes lay on the structure from before, and he stumbles back to it, certain it must contain some clue.

The men he walks past continue to converse amongst themselves, but he has only one destination in mind. He digs through, looking for anything, but comes up only with a large swath of fabric. That same “S”, that calls to him but gives no answers.

The men set up camp, cooking as they go. They invite him to join, and he does, his hunger for food now outweighing his hunger for knowledge.

—

“Danny, I’m glad you came as soon as you could.” 

Danny’s teacup clatters as he jolts in surprise. He turns to face Clockwork, “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself. What did you need my help with?”

Clockwork’s face turns a bit grim. “There is… something twisted in the time stream in one of the Justice League universes. While I can tell it is meant to happen, I am still uncertain about what is actually happening, and fear that I am unable to see with any certainty the outcome. I need you to venture to when this is to investigate on my behalf.”

Danny nods, his concern growing. “Of course. Is there anything in particular I should be prepared for?”

Danny swears he sees the corner of Clockwork’s mouth twitch up into his signature sly grin, before his face is quickly schooled and he says “No, just observe for now. Your destination is through here.”

Danny watches as the cog begins to glow before he ventures forward.

Immediately he is met with the sight of violence. It seems one group of cavemen has taken to attacking another during their dinner. Danny watches, cautious against intervening, trying to figure out who he is meant to watch for. He sees one man, dressed in black bottoms, escape the field of battle with a young boy and hide in the bushes. The battle quickly turns against the four who had been eating dinner, and Danny looks at the leader of those attacking, surprised that the leader’s face is familiar to him…though he can’t quite place who.

The man from before rejoins the fray, quickly beating many off before ultimately being subdued himself. The leader of the attacking cavemen crows in victory, before the army collects the man they’ve now taken prisoner and any other spoils, and returns to their home base.

Danny follows, trying hard not to focus on the bloodshed beneath. He may have lived a long time, but the kind of person willing to commit such violence is not someone he goes out of his way to find. He watches as the chief holds the man they took captive above his head.

“Conquering Chief Savage brings gifts from the forbidden land!”

“Shit,” Danny thinks, “I can’t believe I’m witnessing Vandal Savage’s villain origin story. Or is he already a villain at this point?”

Danny continues watching as they tie up the captive, who they’ve been calling ‘Man-God’ underneath a giant bat pelt. He takes a closer look, before reeling back in shock.

“I thought his pants were weird, but those are pretty 21st century” he thinks, before glancing around at hearing a shuffle. He sees a shadow lurking beyond the camp, crouched down. Danny approaches, recognizing the boy that had been rescued from the fight. He wears what looks like a yellow utility belt, and has painted a bat-shaped mask over his eyes.

“Wait… bats, a yellow utility belt…” Danny glances again to the Man-God strapped to the ground. 

“What is Batman doing here..?” Danny pauses, thinking. He should only be here as an observer, but it has never felt right to just stand on the sidelines when he can make the choice to do something to help. Maybe he doesn’t have to do too much. He floats over to where the Boy is crouched, clearly wanting to help but paralyzed with fear and indecision.

“Go to him. Help him as he has helped you. There has been enough bloodshed this day, will you wait around to see more?” Danny whispers to him, watching the boy’s eyes harden as he comes to a decision.

The boy is quick to act now that he’s made a decision. He approaches Batman, and frees him from his bonds. Danny watches as they collect themselves. Batman dons his utility pelt, and the bat pelt that had been hung over him. By the time they’ve finished their preparations, the sun has risen and the men who captured Batman are rising.

“Should I cause a distraction?” Danny wonders, but before he can do anything, Batman and the boy spring into action, taking out fighter after fighter, until Batman is left facing Vandal Savage.

They charge towards each other, but Danny’s attention is caught by a shadow that begins to pass over the battlefield. He looks up, noting an eclipse is starting. He can feel the energy changing, knows that something is going to happen when the sun has been completely blotted out.

But Clockwork has instructed him only to observe, so observe he will. He turns back to the battlefield, noting that Batman and the boy have managed to push back Vandal Savage, but are still being chased off by the remaining caveman. They drop over a waterfall, but when Danny follows, he only sees the boy surface.

The sky is dark now, as the sun has been completely covered, and there is energy concentrated underneath the water. Danny focuses, in the way Clockwork has taught him, to figure out what lies beneath and where Batman has gone.

“A strong amount of time-manipulation energy…No Batman, not in this time anymore.” Danny looks around to see the boy has realized Batman will not follow, and has left to find shelter. 

“Did he make another jump through time? But how? I didn’t see that he had anything on him capable of such a jump?” Danny thinks. He’s considering if he can piggy back off the residual energy to jump to when Batman is, but a portal opens behind him and Clockwork steps out.

“Danny, I think it would be best if we return now.” he says, gesturing for Danny to follow.

—

Back at his mentor’s lair, Danny explains the situation to Clockwork. Clockwork inclined his head in thought, only speaking after some time, “I can’t say for certain whether or not Batman was meant to be in that time period. However, there is something suspicious about the way he’s been traveling through time. Did you notice anything off with the time manipulation energy, Danny?” 

“I can’t say for certain,” Danny starts, “Though I did notice there was a build-up to the event, in line with an eclipse. Then again, I’m not familiar enough with the way dimensional energy manipulation feels in the universes with the Justice League to say for certain.”

Clockwork hums, before turning to rifle through a cupboard that popped up behind him. He pulled out a glowing orange orb. “Here, it’s a record of the time-manipulation energy gathered from one of the Flash’s misadventures. Can you compare and feel any difference?”

Danny closes his eyes before focusing again. “I can feel there are some significant similarities, but it feels like both have an added component that is different from each other? I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

“The energy reading from the sphere I handed you will likely contain energy both from the time-manipulation and the Speedforce the Flashes use to travel between time. If we assume the time-manipulation energy is the constant in both samples, then…”

“There’s some other energy added into the mix that is propelling Batman forward through time?” Danny finishes.

“That is likely the case. Until we know what it is, it would be best to exercise caution. We don’t know how it interacts with the time-manipulation energy, so we can’t predict how it might affect you Daniel.” Clockwork pauses in thought once more, “I’ll spend some time figuring out where Batman made his next jump. In the meantime, take a rest and prepare yourself.”

“I’m not totally familiar with the universes containing the Justice League. I’ll spend some time researching for now… and maybe I’ll ask Dani what she knows when she returns.”

Clockwork smiles slightly, before nodding. “A fine course of action, it might be best to gather all the information we can before proceeding.”

A/N:

At the time of plotting this, I haven’t read A Glitch in Time. I know that there are some time periods in common that Danny and Bruce travel to, so I want to address that at this moment I’m not planning to reference A Glitch in Time.

As for actual writing, I feel a bit stuck on how much of Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne to actually reference, as I’m aware that most people in the dp x dc fandom are more familiar with Danny Phantom, and from other references I’ve seen to Batman’s travels through time it might not be a story many are familiar with. That being said, I don’t want to just directly repeat details from the comics. I guess if you feel I didn’t provide enough background from the comic series to understand what’s going on, or that I should maybe try referencing less, please let me know so I can make corrections.

On that note, I do recommend reading Batman:The Return of Bruce Wayne if you get the chance. There are so many interesting layers it adds to the mythos and history of Batman and the Wayne family, and it’s really a great read. It helps that you don’t really need too much knowledge of what comes before– except maybe that Batman had crafted a god-killing bullet he shot Darkseid with, before Darkseid retaliated and “killed” Batman. Even this is alluded to in the story in enough detail that you can understand what’s going on, though.

[apolloissobbing]

Writing Babies

I love you all but some of you do not know how to write children, specifically babies. So today I'm going to break down everything I have learned from helping raise three kids (my little siblings). Not to mention the last two are still one and almost two respectively, as well as a cousin who is almost three. I will be using them as examples.

Zero-Six months: In the first six months a baby isn't going to be doing shit besides getting off its binky in the sixth. Though it is good to note that sometimes parents won't completely take their kids off of binkies, most tend to just transition them to only using their binky at night to sleep. The main reason I've found for this is so they aren't drinking so much formula at night. However, I will say some babies will start babbling around the end of this period, as well as starting to roll over at 4-6 months, which is crucial to crawling.

Six-Twelve months: This is when we start doing things!!! Specifically walking and crawling. Most babies will start crawling at 7-12 months, and most start walking from 10 to 12 months. However, it isn't uncommon for a baby to start early or late. I started walking at nine months, but my little sister didn't start walking until she was a year and six months, and my brother is a year and two months and he hasn't started walking yet. Now, towards the 11-12 month mark, babies might start saying full words. Using my brother as an example, he turned one two months ago (in May) and now has a few words he says. He says go, more, please, bye, mama, dada, and baba. My little sister, however, is turning two in August and has a larger vocabulary. She says names and tells when she's hungry or cold, or when she needs a diaper change. Younger babies don't have a big vocabulary, and most won't start saying full sentences until they're two years old. I will say this again, it is not uncommon for children to start earlier or later, so if you really want the one-year-old in your story to be talking and walking, specify the months.

On the topic of months, you know how a lot of people get annoyed when parents say 18, 20, or 14 months? Well, that's because until they're 2 1/2 - 3 there is a difference!!! They're still developing. Once you get to about 4 or 5 you can just say, 4 or 5, but a two-year-old is a lot less developed than a two and two and a half-year-old. Every month is a month a baby learns something. Hence why I'd say my sister is twenty-two months to a parent, but say she's two and a half to someone who doesn't know.

Remember to do your own research, but I hope this helped!!

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Noticed that none of the widely known Dino’s aren’t in the competetion…..which is honestly good cause the trex would have absolutely swept

So actually this is our 6th dinosaur march madness! (5th, technically, anyway). We've been doing this for ages, ever since I got inspired by a similar thing on twitter (mammals, not dinosaurs)!

Year one was way back in 2016 - we used to use google polls to run the competition! We had people narrow down their fave dinosaurs by general group (ie ones closely related to each other) and then duked it out. Believe it or not, T. rex didn't make it into the first year! That'll remain wild for me, but Yutyrannus was the tyrannosaur. Ultimately, the Common Raven won, which makes a significant amount of sense for tumblr

Year two (2017) we only allowed in contestants that hadn't made the bracket the year before - this was a weird year, because Maiasaura won, and I s2g, I don't think it should have, I think people just voted for it because it's my (Meig, the main ADAD guy) favorite dinosaur. What can ya do...

Year three (2018) we only allowed in things that hadn't been in EITHER bracket EITHER year - this allowed for a lot of weirdos to show up, and the ultimate winner was Halszkaraptor, the first known goose-raptor-thing (like Natovenator this year)!

Year four (2019) - DMM Allstars! It was a bunch of competitors that had made it into the bracket the other three years, but didn't win outright. Amargasaurus won that year! It's a close cousin of Bajadasaurus in this year's bracket

Year five (2020 - note all the prep happens BEFORE March...) we switched it up and did Triassic March Madness - not technically dinosaurs, just a bunch of really weird critters from one of the weirdest times in Earth's history - Postosuchus won though, even though its not that weird, because the art made it look like a puppy. What can ya do.

Then we took a break because I was starting grad school again, moving across the country, bunch of the rest of the team also doing literally the same two things to whatever extent it applied to them, and also that whole pandemic thing

And now we have DMM: Rising Stars, where we take the opportunity to highlight dinosaurs that had come out since the last competition new ones would have showed up in (2018) - hence its a bunch of dinosaurs y'all haven't heard of! What a great opportunity to share new science and make DMM even more interesting!

Plus it gave me and @albertonykus more opportunities to brag about the birds (Anachronornis and Asteriornis respectively) we've named during that same time period XD

We want to do Permian Madness eventually like we did Triassic, because the Permian is also super weird. Another year we might do Fossil Birds, because often the birds that got voted in those first four years were living species and a lot of fossil birds haven't had their time in the spotlight in my very biased fossil-bird-researcher opinion. We have a lot of ideas, and frankly the excitement that is not having to use a third party (google) with the addition of tumblr polls means prehistory-march-madness will continue for a while!

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

thinking about how much sumire's wish says about both her and maruki's reality. how even once maruki has the power to do it he doesn't bring back kasumi. sumire doesn't want her sister back, she wants to be her sister. sumire doesn't just hate herself--she's jealous of kasumi. she resents her for being the perfect elder sister when sumire consistently failed at being the perfect younger sister. sumire idealizes and hates kasumi all at once. the only way she can be happy is if she becomes her. if kasumi simply came back to life sumire wouldn't be happy, because that would return her to the self loathing hell sumire nearly killed herself to escape. maruki can't bring kasumi back if he wants sumire to be happy, even if bringing her back would create a more just world. maruki's priorities are always for the people already alive. akechi isn't brought back because he wants to live--far from it. he's brought back purely because that's what joker wants. same for wakaba and okumura--they aren't given any agency whatsoever in maruki's reality. their existences are wholly for the phantom thieves. notice again how yusuke's mother isn't brought back--madarame is simply a good sensei. maruki isn't doing what is the "right" or "just" thing by reversing death. he's picking and choosing whose wishes to fulfill and how according to their whims.

but the thing is, maruki only pretends to respect the wishes of the people in his reality. he wants there to be a pretense of choosing, hence why he's so desperate to get joker to agree to his reality, but the truth is that maruki's will always prevails regardless of whether anyone else is okay with it. if its what he decides is best he will override the will of his victims, as seen in his palace when he forces people to give up their dreams for another if he thinks it is what will make them happy. maruki is capable of changing sumire's cognition so that she'll be happy with a living kasumi, but he chooses not to, because his goal isn't to erase every injustice in the world. it is to make everyone happy in the way he deems necessary whether they like it or not. he doesn't care if akechi would rather be dead than his puppet. he only cares if joker, the boy he's personally grown attached to as someone who helped him with his research, got his wish. he doesn't care if kasumi is still doomed to a tragic early death so long as sumire, the living girl he's personally grown attached to as his patient, is personally happy.

[cboffshore]

with very little respect to that one feral Chima-purity-defender: here's that thing I was talking about the other day I now formally present THE SLOG THEORY.

obviously, this is STUPID rough. In order to make this way more accurate, I'd have to know how many normal days each season of Chima and Ninjago takes, which... not happening. I ain't doing that. This is very heavily rounded and largely for illustrative purposes.

(@ghostwalloper said I was cooking. It's dinnertime, pal.)

The original joke was that, since Chima is such a pain in the ass to watch and feels like it takes forever, obviously time in that realm must be WAY slower than in Ninjago, and only equalizes when The Merge happens and throws everything into a blender. Hence the name Slog Theory. I'm building on the time slowness thing here, because it's FUNNY. I could be entirely wrong - maybe everything in Chima happens in the span of five Ninjago minutes during the first season and they're just sitting around for the rest of the time.

Reading the chart: Blue side is Chima, with season chunks numbered. Red is Ninjago. Please note that the Ninjago season numbers are off to the side, ABOVE their related chunk, due to space. The purple V shape is when the Merge happens well after the end of N15. I drew this on my phone over breakfast, okay? Don't come at me for that. With that being said, I kept all of the time chunks on each side approximately the same just for ease of drawing, because - once again, for the people in the back - there is no way I am going back and doing the math to figure out exactly how many regular days each season takes. That's impossible. There are clues, sure, but WAY too many cuts. Just roll with it, please.

See those green zones on the blue Chima side? Those are our KEY POINTS. There are three, each correlating to some spot on the Ninjago side. They are:

The infamous Possession cameo. My brief research shows that this is an edited scene from EP 15 of C1, which leaves us two possibilities: either the cameo scene with Lloyd and Morro present is canon to BOTH sides, or history repeated itself on the Chima side after the original Eris/other bird iteration, and they all went to hang out on that hill again, hoping to see another fight. And boy did they deliver! Besides that scene EXPLICITLY being an edited version of one from C1, we also know that character lineup is consistent with C1.

The Beaver Portal thing from the second have of N11. It's trickier to place this in the Chima timeline because it doesn't have any of the main characters involved to indicate what season it happens in via armor or lineup, so I just let it fall where it may, which loosely suggests it happens somewhere off to the side between C2 and C3.

The final cliffhanger shot. Following with the time line I've already established with the other cameos, approximately 4-5 seasons have passed since the last one, which puts this after the end of N15 - right around where the Merge would kick off DR. Which would explain why we never see the Chima characters go have adventures down there - reality gets shredded first! Like, right after that shot!

Anyway! It's ultimately all pretty pointless - we're over here fighting over a toy commercial, after all - but I thought that drawing and writing it out a little more thoroughly helped me out, so I hope it helps you all, too.

[littleoddwriter]

Character Analysis: Cooper Abbott (Trap, 2024)

Hello there and welcome to me being painfully autistic (this is meant as a lighthearted joke; but also... yeah)! In order to get it out of my system, I wrote an in-depth character analysis on Cooper Abbott (played by Josh Hartnett) in the movie Trap (written, produced and directed by M. Night Shyamalan). The analysis only focuses on specific points, because otherwise it'd be even longer and more convoluted than it already is. I will make separate posts about the other points I didn't have a chance to mention/analyse (like the relation of Lady Raven's songs to Cooper's emotional journey, technical aspects, acting choices, and pretty much entire scene analyses) eventually, though. This is by no means an "official" analysis, just something I wrote for fun because that's how my brain works and I really needed to get those thoughts out there. But if they spark a conversation, that'd make me very happy, too! Anyone who finds themselves reading this: I hope you enjoy my interpretations, and I'd love to hear your own thoughts if you wanted to share them! But always remember to be kind and respectful!

The points I covered in this analysis:

Surface level traits and facts about Cooper Abbott

Relationship with Riley (and Logan, by extent) In contrast: his wife Rachel

Motivations during the movie (escape, not getting caught, keeping his two lives separate and balanced) Also: motivations for killing (trauma)

Key Conflict + Epiphany: his love for his children and thus, the fear of getting caught

What does all this mean for Cooper as a character, and by extension, us, the viewer?

Disclaimer: In the section for his motivations for killing, I will be taking a look at the claim that he has OCD. I, myself, have OCD and am talking from personal experience and knowledge I gathered through subsequent research and therapy; but that doesn't mean I'm an expert or that you have to agree with my takes, just because I'm looking at it through a more personal lens. Speaking of, when I mention his trauma and abnormal psychology as cause for his murders, I by no means want to say that everyone like this is automatically prone to being a violent or dangerous person. That's not true whatsoever, please remember that. (Once again, I'm talking from experience here, as well.) This is merely an interpretation of a fictional character, who was written to be this way. Also, of course, take what I say with a grain of salt. This is just for fun and not meant to be on an academic level (hence the lack of sources because I was mostly talking from what I just know, and obviously the movie itself, such as interviews with Josh Hartnett and M. Night).

Anyway:

To start off, I want to talk about the most basic, certain facts about Cooper Abbott that we get throughout the movie. Who is he on the surface? How does he appear to others? What do we know about “the Butcher”?

On the surface, Cooper Abbott is a cisgender, white, middle-aged (estimated to be in his early forties) male of the middle class, who lives in the Philadelphian suburbs with his family, consisting of his wife Rachel, his young teenage daughter Riley, and his younger son Logan. Cooper is a firefighter, and most likely has been one for up to twenty years at that point, depending on when he started his training and if he went to college beforehand. He managed to create the ideal family life. He’s a very involved and good father, who deeply cares about his children’s wellbeing and happiness, and does anything he can to achieve that, like buying concert tickets to Lady Raven for Riley as a reward for her good grades, and coming along with her.

To others, he appears like the ideal husband and father, and regular citizen. He seems like a completely normal and functioning member of society with good values, a great family, and who works as a first responder in the fire department, which is a noble career to pursue. He generally presents as the perfect example of what the modern man of his status 'should' be. On top of that, he’s incredibly charming and easily makes people open up to him, want to keep him around, and reveal information to him that they wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) give up to other strangers like him. He appears like a friend; even when he’s just met the other person. He’s non-threatening and trustworthy, and also humble. He can be pushy, but backtracks enough with believable excuses and commonly used phrases to make the other person feel at ease and like he’s only a well-meaning person, clumsily and charmingly asking for help or information.

For example, when he asks Jamie about all the extra security at the venue, and later asks to come back to the storage room with him, where he swipes his keycard, all the while making friendly conversation and getting information he needs from Jamie that he shouldn’t even be able to get otherwise. But by letting Jamie witness his “good values” as a family by allowing the other girl to get the shirt first, so as to not start a fight, and telling him he works in the fire department, and helping him with the heavy box, he creates a bond of trust with the other man. In turn, Jamie willingly tells Cooper about the police and FBI presence, due to evidence that led them to believe a serial killer, the Butcher (Cooper), would be at the concert; and later, in the storage room, even going so far as to tell him his secret passcode for security, because Cooper is “on [their] side” by being a firefighter and evidently great father. Another example of that is how Cooper got Riley to be chosen to be the girl for “Dreamer Girl” to get on stage with Lady Raven and backstage later. To achieve that, Cooper talks to one of the spotter’s he sees around, humbly and a little clumsily telling him how grateful he and Riley are to be there, while revealing in a lie that she had just recovered from leukemia, and that all he wanted is for the Spotter to thank Lady Raven for them to put on such a great show and make Riley happy, after having felt “cursed” due to her sickness. All of that is an effective manipulation and a lie, which only Cooper knows, but clearly strikes a chord in the other man that leads to Riley being chosen without her ever finding out how or why.

Then, there is this side of Cooper that nobody knows is his. “The Butcher”, as the media refers to Cooper Abbott’s serial killing. According to the media, the Butcher had been actively pursued by the police and FBI for seven years at the time of the movie, and twelve victims had been found and linked to him, based on evidence. His victims, as far as we know, consist of people of various ages, genders, and ethnicities. The thing they apparently had in common was that they were all good, selfless people. A young father of a two-year old boy, taking care of his parents, while working as a teacher, and even being awarded as “most liked teacher”; and another young man, who is into sustainable agriculture. We are also told about a woman without further details, leading to the thought that his victims come from all backgrounds. The bodies were normally found out in the open, chopped into pieces with a meat cleaver, hence dubbing him “the Butcher”. In the psychological profile of the Butcher, it was determined that he possibly had maternal issues and obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), which is supported by Cooper hallucinating his mother, and evidently having been punished and severely traumatised by her growing up, such as his extreme need for control in every way. His abnormal psychology becomes more and more evident throughout the movie and will be discussed further down.

Now that the more basic facts are out of the way, I’d like to focus on the two key relationships we witness in the film. His relationship with his daughter Riley, and by extension his son Logan. And in contrast, his relationship with his wife Rachel.

The film starts with showing the audience what a great and secure relationship Cooper and Riley have as father and daughter. He lets her happily, and loudly, play her music in the car while singing along, albeit off-key, and encourages her. He calms her down when she’s stressed about being late to the concert, explains to her to not trust random sellers in front of the venue, and continuously tries to cheer her up and get her excited when she starts getting into her own head about things, and succeeds. We are also shown that he cares about her wellbeing beyond the present moment and that they have a trusting bond where they can talk about anything with each other, which is made evident when Riley opens up about her being left out and possibly picked on by girls at school. Cooper shows her compassion and understanding for her situation and feelings about it, and follows that up by making her laugh again and distracting her from it. As well as being emotionally close, Cooper is also physically affectionate toward Riley by often keeping a hand on her upper back or shoulder, and around her head, such as embracing her, and kissing the top of her head on several occasions, all of which she’s happy to receive and reciprocate, and sometimes even initiates herself, making it a mutually close and loving bond they share.

Throughout the movie, we often witness him showing interest in anything that concerns Riley, be that the slang words she uses, her wanting a tour shirt, and most importantly, her hoping to be picked for “Dreamer Girl”. And, of course, while the latter is merely a way for Cooper to find an escape when he feels cornered, by having been shown all of the previous interactions between them, it’s safe to say that he’d at least shown interest and hope for her to be chosen, regardless of his own predicament. Something that’s also mentioned a lot is Riley’s good grades and the concert being a reward for them, which shows that it’s important in their family to work for what they receive, and that said work will always be appreciated and celebrated, which is also later shown with the whole family eating a pie Rachel baked for the occasion. Generally, Cooper is constantly shown to be incredibly involved in his children’s lives and to care deeply about them and their entire being, such as raising them to be confident and independent people with good values.

In addition to how he is with Logan, it can be interpreted that it’s not much different from how he is with Riley, except maybe appropriate for his younger age. Around the house, we can see drawings done by the kids and family photos that underline this. And when they all sit together around the coffee table to eat the pie, Logan is seated at Cooper’s side with his dad’s arm around him, signifying an emotionally and physically close relationship between them, as well. In the end, when Cooper confronts Rachel and confesses how enraged he is, directing those feelings toward her, it amazes him that he’s only angry because he won’t get to see his children again, once more conveying to the audience how important the kids are to Cooper, and how close their relationship actually is. Even if that, to him, is a huge revelation, which will be explored further down.

In contrast, Cooper’s relationship with his wife Rachel looks a little different. While on the photos around the house, they look happy and close to one another; especially on a photo that was taken at their wedding, there is a clear shift away from that when we see them interact once Cooper and Riley arrive at home, along with Lady Raven. Rachel seems reserved and keeps her distance from Cooper. As we later find out, that might have very well been because her suspicions that he’s the Butcher were more or less confirmed when he returned home with Lady Raven, and had Riley tell her that “dad’s acting strange”. Lady Raven does, indeed, confirm it a few minutes later and tells her that “Cooper is the Butcher”.

The movie’s finale takes place at their home again, after Cooper managed to flee from the police and FBI multiple times, having to let go of Lady Raven for that. There, he sits down with Rachel and discusses with her that he figured out how the authorities even got wind of him being at the concert because he knew it couldn’t have been his own mistake, as he’s too meticulous about that, in order to keep his two lives separate. Rachel admits to following Cooper to one of his safe houses, planting a torn piece of the receipt for the concert ticket, and then leaving an anonymous tip for the police that the house might belong to the Butcher. She says she did it to either get them closer to Cooper or prove her wrong of her suspicions, as it dawned on her over time that perhaps he was this wanted serial killer she kept seeing on the news, because he was often away at night, brought home jewellery that he made up lies about where he got the items from, and smelled of cleaning fluid used at hospitals, rather than the one he would use at the fire department.

Throughout the entire conversation, it is evident that Rachel, while terrified, is also grieving. She just lost her husband and the picture perfect family life she had built with him over the years, and is now confronted with the thought that it had all been nothing but a lie for him. Cooper, on the other hand, doesn’t display such feelings at all. He doesn’t appear remorseful of using her this way, nor does he seem to grief what they had now that he knows it’s all gone because he’d been caught. Instead, he is angry, feeling betrayed, and perhaps even hating her for ruining everything for them all. After all, if it hadn’t been for her, nobody would have ever known about his presence at the concert, and none of the things that transpired would have happened at all. But as mentioned above, his anger is directed toward her for the fact that he’ll never see Riley and Logan again, not because he’d been caught or lost his wife along with his children. In fact, he planned on committing murder-suicide with her as revenge and to keep himself out of prison. All of these things point toward Rachel having never been more than a tool to Cooper to keep appearances as a normal citizen without a sinister side to him. He seemed to have never loved her at all; although, perhaps that was true at the beginning of their relationship for a little while. Even so, his love would have been different to what other people would feel, and it is also revealed that he seems to have never felt strongly before, which further supports that he was never actually in love with Rachel.

Since Cooper is the protagonist of the film, we follow him throughout, only ever experiencing anything from his perspective. And that brings me to my next point: his motivations.

The first aspect of this is pretty straightforward. The entire movie is about Cooper Abbott trying not to get caught by the authorities, thus escaping the concert without being detected, and also without ruining it for his daughter. He becomes increasingly desperate to achieve his goals and keep the balanced life he had worked so hard to build, but finds a dead end at every turn he makes, until the second half of the movie. He’s motivated by his need to keep Riley happy and in the dark, while wanting to stay completely undetected and get out of the venue. He can’t let the authorities even see him as a potential suspect, which is exactly why, after several failed attempts to escape, and managing to get backstage, but being faced with the threat of a police inspection, Cooper asks Lady Raven for a private talk, once more playing the card of Riley’s made-up leukemia recovery. Once he’s alone with Lady Raven, he works himself up to revealing his identity as the Butcher to her, showing her his current victim - Spencer, who is captured in a basement - and explaining to her that he can easily kill Spencer with carbon monoxide poisoning by releasing it from a small box in the basement with one push of a button on his phone. Thus, he effectively pressures Lady Raven into helping him and Riley out of the entire venue without going through the police inspections first, as they’ll ride with her in the limousine.

His motivation, after having been outed as the Butcher, is not to escape, necessarily, but to kill Lady Raven, his wife, and himself, putting an end to everything, now that he has no leverage anymore with Lady Raven having managed to have Spencer rescued, and the police and FBI knowing who he is, there’s no escape for him. 

This brings me to his motivation for killing. We know, on a surface level, that he’d been actively searched for his murders for seven years, and that twelve victims have been linked back to him, due to similar modus operandi and location (presumably, since we don’t know about other evidence linking the murders to one killer). We also learn how he chooses his victims when he tells Lady Raven that he felt “the urge” once he saw her behind the curtain at the concert, and explains to her that it’s almost an odd experience for him to feel that way, but that he thinks it’s when he “see[s] someone who thinks they’re whole”, which “can never be true” because “everyone’s in pieces”. This also explains what his victims had in common by being people too good to be true, so to speak. They were seemingly selfless, genuinely good and caring people that might have felt fulfilled with their role in life.

Later, we also find that Cooper is described as “profoundly different” by the FBI profiler, Dr. Grant, and that he’s never felt any deep emotions before or could build real connections to people, according to what Cooper implied about himself, at least. Thus, supporting the thought that when Cooper says, “everyone’s in pieces”, he’s mostly talking about himself and expecting everyone else to be the same way, because all his life he’d been taught that he’s missing something by not being like the majority of people. That leads to the connection to his mother in his motivation for killing.

Throughout the movie, we’re shown that Cooper hallucinates his mother as an elderly woman, implying that her memory is haunting him. With her being shown as an old lady, it could also be interpreted that she died of old age and that the image in Cooper’s mind is what she looked like when Cooper last saw her before her passing. This conclusion is mostly reached by the fact that, as far as we know, the murders only began seven years prior to the movie’s events, and it is often said that there are specific moments in somebody’s life that could trigger such things as killing. Supporting this is the fact that we’re told that Cooper had often been punished in his youth, presumably by his mother, whose love and approval he always longed for, which might have kept him somewhat grounded for most of his life. And thus, her death could have possibly triggered him to give into his urges because there’s no more love and approval to anticipate from his mother. We get a glimpse of that when Lady Raven attempts to deter Cooper from hurting her inside the car, as she pretends to talk to him in a way that his mother might have by speaking in a harsher tone and threatening punishment if he didn’t stop; but then she turns it around and attempts a level of empathy by calling him a “good boy” and saying that “[he] can choose to be good”. He doesn’t fall for it, knowing that she’s trying to get under his skin with things that the FBI had told her about him; but there is some truth in it.

This is especially implied when, at the end of the movie, Cooper is drugged with his own tranquillising powder and hallucinates his mother talking to him; although, as we find out, it’s actually Dr. Grant posing as his mother. She gets through to him by telling him that she’s proud of him for finally feeling such anger, and “not all of [him] is a monster”, and that “it’s good [he’s] stopping the monster”. This scene is also when he reveals that he “thought [he] was pretending, but [he] wasn’t” about his love for his children. So, his motivation for killing would be the trauma of having been constantly punished by his mother for being different and perhaps unruly, when all he ever wanted was her love and approval, only to never receive any; thus, resenting anyone that seemed to have it all together and needing to take it away from them by killing them. This is also represented in his crime scenes, where his victims are found chopped into pieces and scattered all over the location they’re found in, relating back to his comment that “everyone’s in pieces”. 

Something that should be mentioned here is that it is mentioned in the movie that the Butcher might suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) by Lady Raven as she more or less parrots information she gathered from the FBI to subtly alert Cooper’s family to his true being, while pushing Cooper into revealing himself with those pointed remarks.

Throughout the movie, there are small moments that indicate that Cooper, indeed, suffers from OCD, which mostly presents as an extreme need for control. For example, we see him neatly fold his napkins at the stadium, fixing the towels at home, despite more pressing issues at hand, such as checking on his captive victim via camera, while he's at the concert, and often repeating that “[he’s] in control”, and only revealing his true feelings about his situation when he feels said control slip through his fingers. Only in such moments does his mask break, showing parts of his true self, until he doesn’t hide it anymore once it is out in the open anyway. His OCD is not a motivation for his killings, but it is evidently a component of his abnormal psychology that might have played into his mother’s abuse and his subsequent trauma and response; although he could have also developed his OCD as a result of his traumatic childhood.

In addition, the possibility that he has OCD at all is pretty likely due to aforementioned examples, but also how he finds comfort in planning the captivities and murders, just as much as the killing itself, as he confessed to Rachel. The obsessions and resulting compulsions in people with OCD are often linked back to a need for control and comfort, no matter the nature of the thoughts and urges. Obsessing over particular things is normally the distressing part and the compulsion is then something to soothe oneself and momentarily get rid of the obsessive thoughts and fears, thus finding comfort in them; even if the compulsions end up harmful to oneself or others in some way. On top of that, when Cooper feels himself losing the control he had over the situation with Lady Raven and his family, he can’t hold back his immediate reaction of distress and anger by banging on the closed bathroom door and not letting up; eventually going so far as yelling, “open the goddamn door”, uncaring of his children witnessing him in a state such as this, which should be extremely unusual for him. Everything is lost to him in that moment, and he’s caught up in the desperate need to gain back control, that his reaction is disproportionately intense, in comparison to his usual lack of emotional participation in what is happening around him or to him. When a person’s compulsive need for something cannot be fulfilled once triggered, it can lead to such great distress as was displayed with Cooper when Lady Raven was hiding in the bathroom with his phone, therefore creating more credibility to the claim that the Butcher/Cooper Abbott has OCD.

I’ve mentioned Cooper’s relationship with his children and his realisation that he’s capable of deeper feelings and connections a few times already, and now I’d like to take a closer look at that revelation and the conflict it created for Cooper throughout the entire film.

As stated above, Cooper’s youth consisted of being punished by his mother, not receiving the love, care and approval he needed and longed for, which later translated to a trauma response that led him to commit murders. Among all of that, there’s also that he never got a chance to develop normally as a child, which could very well be the reason for his lack of deep emotions and empathy, none of which he ever received or learned to have.

It can also be thought that because of how Cooper’s mother saw him and clearly conveyed this image to him, he had a distorted sense of who he was, fitting himself into the box he was forced into by his mother as a child and never finding a way out of it. Technically, once he grew up and made a life for himself, he could have realised that she wasn’t right about him; but instead, he was stuck in this specific image that he was convinced of and now believed to be entirely true about himself. This image that he was a monster, that he was incapable of love and real, deep connections to other people, and genuine feelings in general. All of it went so far that he had convinced himself that his fatherhood was nothing but a performance to keep cover. This entire time, he believed that when he showed love, care, and interest in his children and their lives, it was only pretense. It’s only during the movie’s events, when he’s confronted with the threat of losing his children to being found out as the Butcher, that he realises just how important they truly are to him, that it’s not all about having a cover, and that he genuinely feels affection for his kids.

This revelation, as amazing as it is for him at the end when everything is lost for him anyway, is also what creates the biggest conflict for him throughout the movie. Instead of just finding a way to escape undetected, no matter what or how, he constantly has to look out for Riley as well, make sure he doesn’t ruin the concert for her and drag her into this. And he has to stay close to her, which means that he can’t leave for long periods of time to figure a way out; even though he tries and eventually runs out of excuses and opportunities as Riley grows more concerned and therefore aware of his strange behaviour. In the end, he does manage to combine both interests by getting Riley to be chosen for “Dreamer Girl”, but it comes with unforeseen consequences when Lady Raven joins them at their home, and the movie’s finale takes place with Cooper being found out and having to escape custody several times.

To Rachel, he admits that his rage is “unfamiliar” to him, as he “never felt this before” and it makes him “feel out of control”; but the reason for it is “amazing” to him because it’s caused by the knowledge that he won’t see Riley and Logan grow up. And when Dr. Grant later poses as Cooper’s mother and tells him that she’s proud of him for feeling such anger, he also says, with pleasant surprise in his voice, “I thought I was pretending, but I wasn’t”, which implies that his lack of emotional involvement has been part of his conflict with his mother all his life, and that it’s reason for him to have believed that he was incapable of such; even when he clearly cared about his children. It never registered to him, until that specific night, that maybe his mother, and by extension Cooper himself, was wrong about him. 

What does all of this mean for Cooper Abbott as a character, though?

For one, he’s incredibly complex. There are many different layers to him that can be explored at length, and I still have only scratched the surface here. There’s this side of him that only he knows about, the Butcher, but also his childhood, which he probably never revealed to anyone before. At the same time, he’s a picture perfect family man, a firefighter, an unassuming citizen, and deep down, a hurt child that never had a chance to heal. And with that comes the fact that his complexity is merely part of being human; especially a grown adult with forty-plus years of experience. His character is an interesting one to take a closer look at because he poses questions that humans are naturally curious about and want answers to, but are also afraid of truly exploring those darker corners in depth. Cooper allows us to go there because he’s fictional and there’s no real harm done when looking into his murders, for example.

Cooper, at his core, is like an amalgamation of those serial killers whose names we all know, and who are usually described in ways that we witnessed Cooper to be in the movie; and that presents a challenge to the audience. We’re faced with a protagonist, who is a murderer, and a good father, and a traumatised child at heart; and we want him to get away, until we catch ourselves wanting that and remembering who he truly is. But is that all true? Is he truly only a monster? I think that, specifically, is what makes Cooper Abbott as a character so intriguing. He challenges our perception of murderers being those monsters, through and through; especially when we witness him being a great father. It forces us to look into that and wonder how that might relate back to our reality.

To wrap this up, what I think it means for Cooper as a character is that he’s human just like everyone else, uncomfortably so. He’s an exploration of the darkest shades a human has, but also shows the brightest lights we have to offer when it comes to human interaction; especially family. And it’s uncomfortable to witness how the dark and the light can go hand-in-hand like this, possibly without anyone else ever knowing.