#I woke up and chose violence on my emotions

[snuffydoo]

"Am I but a fool?"

[kittiofdoom]

Parings: Referenced Eleanora x Baldur ( @hoesephseed​ ), Kenna x Odin 

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Odin is an entire trigger warning, mentions of blood, little bit of gaslighting

Wordcount: 1423

A/N:  So after talking to Biggie about God of War feels about Nora and Kenna I was compelled to write this little piece because it would not leave me alone. I am suffering. Thank you so much for letting me kjsdhgkjdshgf about them.

Summary: Freya was gone and in her wake she left a trail of shattered pieces that Kenna was frantically trying to put back together all while falling apart herself.

— BLOOD TIES.

In the following months of Freya's departure Kenna's life was in a state of chaos. Odin had told her that she would always have a home here in Asgard and he had meant it—even when his and Freya's marriage had dissolved Kenna was welcomed like she had always been there. 

Freya, on the other hand, had abandoned Kenna.  Her once friend had left for Midgard and after Kenna had followed Freya all the way from Vanaheim to Asgard in support of the union that was supposed to bring peace. She would've even followed Freya to Valhalla once. Freya had been her dearest friend.

Not anymore. They walked separate paths now.

Odin had been right that it was in her best interests to stay. What life would she have led with Freya banished to Midgard? There was so much she had to do here—people needed her.

Manuscripts that she had once been careful with were strewn about the floor, pages torn out, rearranged, turned in any which way she could make sense of them. She burnt sticks of incense to help her concentrate and keep her awake. It was a thick acrid scent burning all the way to the back of her throat and causing the room to be coated in a haze. Her workbench was no better, several layers of blood staining through the cloth to mar the wood underneath. 

Kenna didn't hear the whispers of wings nor the chirps of birds as Odin appeared in the room behind her—she was too engrossed in her study.

“Kenna, what is this?” Odin asked, casting his one good eye around in surprise. He strode forward, grabbing her by the shoulder. “I leave you alone for a few weeks and-again what is this?”

That was enough to startle her out of her state. She squeaked and whirled around. It wasn't just her room that was a mess. She was a mess too. Tear streaked blood, make up and ink were smeared across her pale skin and it looked like she'd wiped it carelessly all down the front of her dress.

“Odin,” Kenna blurted out, grabbing a handful of her skirts in a practised sign of respect as she curtsied. She hadn't done that for years but everything had changed. Kenna didn’t know where she stood with him anymore.

Odin scoffed, grabbing her by the forearms to pull her straight.

“No, no, none of that, if I want you to curtsy I will tell you,” he began, words curt and sharp. “And since I am not telling you to do that, you will answer me; what is this about? Do not make me ask a third time. People say they haven't seen you in weeks. When was the last time you ate?”

Kenna looked away, attention drawn by a piece of paper from a new angle.

“Weeks.. right... I've been busy-”

“-I can see that,” Odin cut in, dryly.

“I'm trying to fix it,” Kenna continued as she pulled away from him to pick up the paper, holding it up to the light.

He was beginning to lose patience with her now, the lines on his face tightening as he all but shadowed her to pluck the paper from her to redirect her attention back to him. He gripped her tighter this time, not letting her escape and get distracted.

“Fix what?”

“Not what,” Kenna said. “Who! Baldur! What- what... she did to him.”

“Oh, that. Right.”

Kenna's brows furrowed together, a whole journey of emotion weaved together like threads that Odin could pull if he wanted to, but right now it was more interesting to watch them unravel and fray at the edges. 

“Yes, that—your son. He is suffering. Nora is suffering and Freya is too fucking stubborn, too fucking prideful to undo what she did. Have you seen them? They were so happy, Odin. Now look at the pain she has wrought upon my family,” Kenna stopped trying to pull away and merely gestured at the sum total of her research—nothing. “I have been through every book, every page. I have poured myself into this desperately trying to find a way to reverse what she did.”

Odin began to rub her arms, it was a slow movement but it was enough to settle Kenna down into some semblance of calm. He guided them down to both sit on the edge of her bed before he clasped her hands.

“Baldur is important to you,” he said simply.

“Freya said I would never understand; I don't have children,” Kenna spat and all at once that fragile calmness was shattered as she stood once more with a pained snarl. Kenna had to direct her fury at something. 

There was a crash of crystals and stone against the ground, precious ornaments being shattered as the papers flew up with the sweep of her arms. “But I tell you—I tell you—I held him as a baby. I watched him grow up all these years. I have seen his tears, his love, his joy, his anger. And now I watch him be consumed by his pain. It's TEARING HIM APART.”

Hands slammed down on the table and with it a wail escaped Kenna. She thought she had no more tears left to shed, but they poured forth in hot anger until she was sobbing.

“I AM MORE HIS MOTHER THAN FREYA WILL EVER BE AGAIN. SHE LOST THE RIGHT AFTER WHAT SHE DID.” Kenna screamed her throat hoarse. She just had to get it out before she exploded. All the emotions she’d been carrying for the past couple months bubbling to the surface in a volatile mix.

And when she was empty her whole body slumped forward, using the workbench to keep her upright with a sudden exhaustion. When she tried to speak once more her voice caught in a croak. She would force the words out if she had too even if they tasted of iron and salt.  

“I may not be his mother by blood,” she began, her voice gaining more power as she steeled her resolve. “But I would bleed a thousand realms dry if it meant bringing an end to his suffering.”

Odin was at her side, hands lifting her up and Kenna leaned into him. He moved them back to the bed, sitting down even as Kenna stumbled over herself to join him. Her head was spinning. When had she gotten so weak?

“You're of no use to anyone while you're like this, Kenna,” Odin said, holding her as she began to pull away at the harshness of his words. “No, no, none of that. Listen to me. Breathe. You can't help Baldur when you can't even think straight. You want to do right by him right, right by Nora? You want them to be happy again—see them smile and laugh?”

Kenna hiccupped, making a small noise of agreement. Odin let her pull away enough to look up at him but she could go no further. He cupped her jaw before brushing the wild strands of white hair away from her eyes. Normally there was happiness in those blue eyes of hers, but today they were cold like chips of ice. They warmed a fraction when she stared at him and it made him smile. Odin began to wipe her tears with his thumb—really it did little to help the mess she’d made of herself but it looked like it made Kenna feel better.

“No more of these hysterics, Frigg wins if you're like this and you don't want her to win do you?”

She shook her head, leaning into his hand.

“Exactly. What Frigg did was a shock to us all. You're right. She's hurt this family deeply but if you're that determined we'll get you cleaned up, fed, rested and I can set you up in my study while someone sorts this mess out,” Odin said, gesturing around to her room. “If anyone can crack Freya's magic it would be you, my little Blood Witch. Just, try not to redecorate so.. extensively. I like my study the way it is.”

“Thank you... Odin,” Kenna said. It still hurt to speak and Odin gave her an encouraging squeeze.

“Frigg doesn’t know what she’s talking about, you’re every part a mother to the children you helped raise. They’re lucky to have you—I’m lucky to have you.”

( If Kenna could reverse Freya’s magic, then perhaps she might be able to cast it herself. Odin may not have gotten all of Freya’s secrets…but he had the next best thing. )

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello amazing blogger! I've been drowning in WIPs and rl chaos lately, and really need to take care of myself for a bit.

Do you mind doing a Daemon blurb where he tries to make her feel better with slow, intimate sex at noticing she's depressed?

Thank you, have a lovely day 💐

Lies Are Treason

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The fire that drew your husband to you in the first place is now dwindling, and that was a serious problem.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Opens with violence, fem!reader, wife!reader, soft!daemon T_T i love him, reader is not having a nice time, smut (reader kinda cries mid fucking and gets emotional, praise kink, bratty!reader, cock warming, cream pie), typos, etc.

A/N: hello my lover <3 i give you kiss. i am honored that you reached out to me during a time like this. i often wonder what value my fanfics hold in the grand scheme of the world other than silencing the loud romance ideas i have with fictional men i will never meet T_T, but then i think about how reading and writing fanfics makes me feel happy, and so i only hope my brain farts do something similar for someone else yeah may the imaginary dick imma give you suffice to alleviate a fraction of your heavy thoughts HAHAAHAH

Daemon knew.

He felt it in the way he woke up earlier than his lover, the way he had to slow his pace as not to leave her behind, how he had to chose what she would wear, and now, how he had to look for her, since he'd no idea where she gone.

There was something wrong. Something was bothering his wife and someone somewhere was going to pay for it.

In this moment, it was your handmaiden who was quivering in fear with Dark Sister between her eyes.

"My lord," she wept, "I- I-"

"You are her helper, are you not?" Daemon seethed, stepping closer to the poor, innocent servant girl who had fallen on her hind, terrified by her master's cold accusations, "your job is to keep my lady wife in your sight and attend to her every need."

"My prince," she shudders, raising her hands, "the princess is not kept by anyone-" tears streak her face, "-you know this."

Daemon hums deeply, moving stray hair away from the girl's face with his blade, "and yet the fact that you do not know her whereabouts enrages me still."

"My prince!" a separate panicked voice calls.

"What?!" Daemon quips, not prying his eyes on his target.

"The guards say they've seen the princess in the dragon pit."

Daemon turns away from the quivering girl, to the other that was fighting to save her fellow servant, "and you understand that lying to me is treason."

Dark Sister is upon the other's neck now.

Daemon moves closer to her, annoyance and boredom lacing his expression, "if I find your information false, not only will I return fucking fed up, but I will have the head of the guards who muttered the nonsense to you."

Daemon watches her squirm underneath his weapon.

He raises his brows, "well? The guards names?"

"Oswald and James, your grace," she shudders, cheeks stained with tears.

Daemon pulls his sword away and tuts, "you better not be wrong."

One could only imagine the collective relief across the castle after Daemon made it to the pit and saw who he had been searching for all along.

I hear a deep sigh and turn over my shoulder.

"You know I nearly killed your handmaiden a few moments ago."

My hand that was stroking Caraxes' face stills as I look off to my husband who was walking over, "what? Why?!"

"Well," he starts, only continuing once he was next to me, stroking Caraxes all the same. His dragon snorts hotly in greeting as Daemon continues, "my wife had gone missing."

I don't even roll my eyes at him as I look away and mutter, "overreacting, as always." I gently stroke the scales beneath my palm, "you will apologize with tears.'

I only turn to Daemon when he grabs my hand. His face is tense and his grip on me is firm, "at least I'm in character."

I knit my brows at him, tilting my head, "are you saying I am not?"

I turn from Caraxes and walk backwards until I can lean against the creature's large body. Daemon does not release my hand and follows me as I do so.

"I am bossing you around, clearly," I state.

"Yet there is no grit to it," he retorts.

Before I could respond to what my husband told me, Caraxes, who had been lying on the ground, begins to rumble softly. He lift his head, shaking it before craning his neck to look at his master.

The two stare at each other, wordlessly communicating, then the dragon pulls his head back down and grunts.

When Daemon turns back to me, he sighs, muttering something softly in High Valyrian.

I attempt to decipher the words, "Caraxes is not feeling good?"

"No," Daemon retorts, reaching his hand out to my cheek, "it is you who is not feeling good."

I stare at the man who inches nearer up until our chests are pressed together. Unable to bare his gaze, I turn away and nudge Caraxes with my elbow, "snitch."

Daemon sighs, leaning down as his hands snake around me. His face finds its spot at the crook of my neck, and by the curve of my shoulder, he presses a kiss. He rubs his cheek against mine as he whines, "you think I do not already know?"

I feel disarmed by his words, so much so I shift my weight and lean fully against him, pressing my face on his shoulders as my hands cling on his sides, "I hoped you would continue to ignore it."

"Nothing was ignored," he pulls me closer to him, propping his chin on the top of my head, "a ridiculous thought really," he tightens his arms around me, "why do you think I agreed to letting you drink until you could not walk the other night?"

I hum, tilting my head up so I could brush my lips on his neck, "I thought you just wanted your wife to relive her youthful alcoholism."

He draws shapeless patterns on my back, "I knew you needed a release."

"Release he said," I chuckle, "ironic when I took in so much wine that my belly swelled like I was pregnant."

He does not respond to this.

A moment of silence passes after.

Daemon begins to rub my back and I feel like I could fall asleep in his arms. I close my eyes and pull away from him however, hands instinctively finding their way to my husbands shoulders.

His hands are firmly gripping on my sides as I feel him lean down and press his forehead against mine.

I rub my thumbs on the fabric of his clothing and simply savor his presence.

"Speak to me," he whispers like a plea.

I raise my chin, eyes still closed. I grab his face and kiss him; warmth envelopes me the moment I do so. His hands force me closer and his lips are hungrier than mine. When I pull away, he chases me with one last peck and places another on my cheek.

"I do not know what to tell you, Daemon," I mumble, finally opening my eyes.

Daemon pulls back, looking down at me with concern, as if trying to will words out of his mouth.

"I just... fell unlike myself, and even Caraxes seemed desperate about it." I brush his silver locks behind his ear as I mutter, "I don't know. I am nearly as bad at this as you are."

His hands catch my cheeks. He caresses the area before he slides his palms all the way back down to my waist. He gently rocks me against him, averting his eyes in contemplation. He kneads on my flesh as he decides, "then let me do something that I am good at."

He turns back to me as I link my fingers behind his nape, "and what are you good at, husband?"

"Releasing into my pretty wife as she cries out my name," he sighs as he bends to kiss my neck.

I moan when he nibbles my skin, "Daemon."

He responds by muttering my name as he pulls away. His eyes locks on mine, as if searching for permission.

I place a hand on his cheek and brush my thumb on his lips, "take me back to our quarters."

Without another word, he grabs the hand on his cheek and drags me away.

The very moment we are in our chambers, he closes the door and grabs me, attacking me with kisses like a man starved.

Daemon pushes me backwards, fingers nimbly making its way down the laces on the back of my dress, up until my calves hit the bed.

Before he pushes me on the mattress, he pulls my dress down, dropping to his knees. He kisses my sternum on the way as he works on getting me out of my clothing. I bite my lip as I look down at him.

I lightly comb my fingers on his scalp as he bites my thighs while urging me out of my dress.

"Daemon."

He looks up at me.

I grab his cheeks, as he stands. Once he is towering over me again, I begin to undo his own clothing, pulling him out of his tunic and sinking down to free him of his trousers. He doesn't grant me the courtesy of biting his thighs as he pulls away, kicking his pants off and grabs me, pushing me back on the bed.

He allows me to crawl up on my elbows until my head is on the pillows. He doesn't waste time and gets on top me, positioning himself in between my legs.

He hums in appreciation of the heat against him. He praises me in High Valyrian and grabs my thighs as he rubs against me, "so pretty and warm.

I groan at the feel of him grinding on my sensitive nub. He slows as he sinks down on my shoulder, peppering kisses all over my skin. I wrap my legs around him as I dig my fingers into the roots of his hair.

He props his hands to the side and bucks his hips against me. I whine, pressing my lips on any part of his skin that I can reach.

"Daemon," I mutter against him, "you feel so good."

He sucks on my skin then bites down, making my stomach flutter. He connects our lips together and squeezes my sides, "I'll make you feel better, my love."

After saying this, Daemon sheathes his hard length that was wet with my slick. I roll my eyes back at the feel of him stretching me out.

He grunts, thrusting shallowly, but then stills as he sings me praises, "so nice and ready for me, sweet girl."

"Always ready for you," I mewl, licking his lower lip before grazing it between my teeth.

Daemon rubs my sides as he moans at the feeling of my bites.

He begins to move against me, but he barely pulls out, as if fearing the loss of me. I bring my hands to his hips and dig my nails in, "more, more, more."

He shushes me, then clicks his tongue, "so impatient."

"Break me, Daemon," I mutter, helplessly, moving my hips in sync with his, "please, I need you to fuck me."

He hisses when I rip at his skin. He pushes his face against mine, forcing my cheeks on the pillow, "behave, little one. I will not be bullied by someone who squirms at the very feel of my touch."

I whine again at both his words and the feel of his mouth on my jaw. I half expect a punishing thrust to be had. When he does not relent his excruciatingly slow pace, I begin to beg, "Daemon, please, please, please! I want to-"

His hands forcing my wrists to the sides shut me up with a gasp.

Daemon hovers his face above mine, and I nearly choke at the sight of him, "I told you to behave."

He rolls his hips into me, still so leisurely but so deliciously that I cannot contain my moan. Yet it's not enough. I want him to ruin me.

I whine out his name again, "Daemon please."

He sighs at the sounds I make and pushes himself up on his arms, "you know better than anyone that no one can change my mind once its made."

I chew on my lips as I look up at him. My desperate need of him makes my eyes begin to water. My hands dart up to his cheeks as I complain, "I can change your mind, my love. Please, please."

Daemon's dark eyes take in my wanton figure. He leans into my pulse and kisses it, "the world has broken you enough," he draws out a long breath when I clench around him desperately.

When he curses in High Valyrian and he sinks back down against my face, I mistake it as defeat. I seal him against me tightly and nip at his neck. I find myself ceasing my nibbling when I hear him whisper against my ear, "just let me love you tonight, my dear. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Daemon then, although still brutally slow, begins to thrust more thoroughly, pulling out farther and plunging deeper. The sensation has me reeling and my stomach begins to tense.

"My pretty wife," Daemon groans, rutting against me, "so lovely, so soft, and all mine."

My nails find his skin again, scratching all the way to the center of his back.

He moans sucking at my neck as he continues his ministrations.

"I would burn the whole world if that's what it took to mend your heart."

I moan his name in response, voice not ceasing as it draws out pleasured noises. I look to him, trying to find his face, but he's too lost in his movements and too snug against me.

I screw my eyes shut when he finally begins to quicken.

I squeal before I speak, "yes, Daemon," I grunt, "so good- like that- more."

He pants, hand coming up to my neck, "I would do anything for you," he kisses my jaw, "you know this, right?"

I whine as I nod, "yes, Daemon, yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"So, let me do this. Let me take care of you," he mutters, "do not withdraw from me again."

When I open my eyes and catch his gaze, my throat goes dry and my eyes begin to spill with water. I groan out his name in a manner I am so not sure of.

He kisses the tears that begin to fall down my face and snaps his hips quicker, "take solace in me the way I do you."

My voice is too preoccupied with whines that I do not get to reply.

The bed begins to squeak and knock on the wall at his ferosity.

Daemon seals my whimpers against his lips as pressure begins to build within me. My lashes, dampened with tears, begin to flutter at the feel of my husband. At the rate he was going, my release was swift and inevitable. He drags his lips up to my forehead, kissing my nose and eyelids tenderly as he does, juxtaposing the roughness of his severity in my core.

I come around him all at once, growling his name in pleasure, tensing tightly then turning into putty.

Daemon mutters my name as well, over and over, until I feel his hotness spread inside me. I nearly choke on my spit at the feel of his unrelenting snapping even after the fact.

Just when I think he will not stop, he begins to grow sloppy. I sigh as he eventually halts. By then, I am plainly aware of the feel of his seed overflowing, though he is still snug within me.

Although I am utterly boneless beneath him, I manage to tighten my limbs around frame, absolutely unwilling to free him from where he was. The last of his movement fade and I fell utterly spent of his love.

Daemon presses a kiss on my cheek, hands coming to my sides, "I am here, my love. I will not leave."

Without warning, my lips begin to quiver.

I am suddenly overcome with emotion. I begin to feel my throat and chest tighten as sadness creeps out of me, finally seeing its chance.

I force myself not to cry, but I am powerless when Daemon begins to hush me, "sweet girl, it'll be alright." I am broken by the time he repeats, "I am here."

I bring my hands to his shoulder blades and knead at the area, "I need you, Daemon. I can't be without you, ever. I love you so much."

He kisses me as he nods, "I know. I would go mad without you by my side," he kisses me again, drawing out a long breath before continuing, "I love you like I have not known love before."

He allows me to empty my sorrows against him, comforted by his mere presence in the silence.

Sobs beginning to die down, I turn to him and bring my palms to his cheeks. He lifts his head to look down upon me and brushes his nose against mine.

I repeat, as if I hadn't made myself clear, "I love you."

"I love you," he repeats not a second too late, then kisses my lips, "I love you so fucking much."

I nod rapidly, kissing every inch of his face, "thank you for this, my love," I sigh and readjust my legs around him, "I did not know I needed it."

The vibrations of his laughter cause me to whimper. He places a kiss on the top of my head, "spoiled brats hardly ever do."

"I'm not spoiled," I furrow my brows and pout, "you're the one who grew up..." I moan, "a prince."

His minute hip movements tease out another sound out of me.

I whine in protest, "Daemon, please, I can't."

He clicks his tongue, "see? Pretty girls like you should take what they are given graciously without complaints," he brushes his nose against me, "especially when it is a generous gift from her prince."

I release a sigh once he ends his torture.

"Still," Daemon smirks, "I could not bare to make my wife cry even more."

"You can make me cry, if you want," I mumble as I kiss his shoulder, "just let me stay like this for a while," I rub his back, "I like it when I'm full of you."

Daemon relaxes on top of me and I relish the weight of him.

"I like it when you're full of me too."

[kitthepurplepotato]

Week 10 - Now or Never

(Season 1 ending)

Summary: This awkwardness needs to end. You can’t really make it worse so you might as well just go for it.

How will Izuku react to your random outburst?

Warnings: Swear words

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This is risky fucking business.

This whole idea feels like a stupid game where you have 300 different options with 300 different endings with no hints towards what’s right or wrong. It also doesn’t help that there is a poor girl trying to sleep in your bedroom so yelling Izuku’s face off in a loving way isn’t an option.

To be fair, you kinda know what you want to do and if it’s doesn’t work then shit, it can’t get worse, can it?

You tried to go with the flow; that ended up with you kissing Izuku on his sofa for an hour; long story short, it was a fail.

You tried to be nice and understanding towards Izuku’s feelings and let him keep his distance, which ended with you two being awkward and miserable because you have no idea how to be “buddies” anymore. So, that also failed.

This is why…

You chose violence.

“Midoriya fucking Izuku.” You yell-whisper into the dark room and he jumps up to a sitting position like a frightened little bunny.

“What have I done.” Midoriya mumbles and you really try your best to not smile at his terrified face illuminated by the soft moonlight.

“The fuck is this.” You throw a few of your old notes into the poor guy’s face. “And this.” You put the frame down at the coffee table nicely. “And this.” You pull out the little polaroid from your pajama pockets.

“Stop hanging out with Kacchan…” Midoriya whimpers in a high voice and it’s so fucking comedic you really want to laugh.

“Kacchan has nothing to do with this. I am done, Izuku. Why are we doing this? Why are you sleeping on the fucking sofa when there is a bed big enough for us both in your room, huh? Huh?”

Midoriya blinks twice, utterly confused; and to be honest, so are you, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I can’t keep doing this to you, it’s wrong…”

“What’s wrong?!” You yell-whisper again, jumping into his mumble. He’s frozen in one place like a deer in the headlights, not really ready for the emotional roller coaster but he takes it anyway, because he’s a good fucking boy.

“It means different to me than it does to you! And I can’t loose you because of this!” Midoriya’s voice is way louder than a whisper by the end of his sentence, but none of you really care at this point; you are quite sure your angry stomping woke Melissa up already anyway.

“That’s what I thought as well. That we don’t feel the same. But I’m 99% sure I was wrong about that.” You mumble and Izuku looks at you with a confused face.

“What?”

“Midoriya Izuku, I’m my own person and my feelings are mine and mine only, so don’t try to guess and give me feelings I don’t have without asking me about them.”

“I didn’t mean to do any of that, Y/N, I…” Izuku’s hands reach out towards you but he pulls them back to his side after a few awkward seconds.

“You see, this is what I’m done with.” You point at him. “You called me Sweet Pea every single day for two months, my own name feels foreign from your lips. It feels rude. You stopped reaching out to me, you pushed me away, and for what? To save our friendship? Izuku, look into my eyes and tell me you are happy now.”

Midoriya doesn’t look into your eyes and doesn’t say a word. “That’s what I thought.” You grumble. “But there is something you seem to forget, Izuku.” He looks up at that, his face still terrified. “I don’t need to take this. I don’t need to give in. If you carve our relationship the way it feels right, then I can do the same. You can’t tell me what to do and what not. With that said…”

This is it. This is fucking it.

You can’t back down now.

It only takes you four steps and one aggressive collar-grab to pull Izuku close and another smaller pull to slot your lips together with his. Izuku makes a small stuttering noise but his lips don’t move, so you take the initiative this time; your lips start to move frantically as you try your best to convey all your frustration and love into one short but heavy kiss. Izuku stays frozen in place and your resolve wavers from the lack of response, so you jerk back, already hating yourself for doing that to him; he’s tired and there is a guest in your room, the timing is off, everything is wrong, this was a terrible idea…

“Okay, m-maybe that was a bit too far, consent and all, I’m so…” You start to mumble, ready to fall on your knees and beg for forgiveness but you don’t have time for that as Izuku suddenly reaches out and pulls you forward by grabbing your neck, your body falling into his lap with the motion. He doesn’t waste a single second; his lips find yours in the middle of your messy fall, his kiss deep and nothing like the small pecks you got a week ago; it’s hot and heavy, full of emotions he can’t convey otherwise, full of words he can’t say out loud; his whole body shakes as he pulls you even closer, his hand grabbing the back of your T-shirt as though he’s terrified you’ll run away, while his other one pulls on the back of your hair in a heated but loving way; the first few kisses are hot and wet, there are tears on both of your faces but none of you care to notice it in the heat of the moment. Izuku sucks on your bottom lips and you open you mouth in surprise; he invites himself in, his tongue slowly mapping out every single crevice as he joins yours in a slow dance; you whimper into his mouth, hot all over, but even in the scorching heat, Izuku is careful and attentive, passionate but kind, and it’s so endearing to feel him holding himself back as he pushes you away to take a deep breath, his eyes dark like the night sky as he stares into your soul.

The room is silent; none of you really know what to say or where to go from here; you sit down on the armrest while Izuku pulls his legs up and hugs them close, then hides his face between his knees to take a few more deep breaths.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll come to bed, okay?” He mumbles between two heavy pants.

“Uhm, y-yeah. That’s a g-good idea. See you there then.” You mumble awkwardly while you try your best to not freak out in front of him.

You started this. If you back down now, it was all for nothing and that’s not an option; not after the scorching hot kiss you just got offered in exchange.

~•🥦•~

“Can I come in?” Izuku knocks gently on the door, even though he’s halfway in already; you can’t see his face in the dark but you are quite sure he has a shy, suggestive smile on his lips as he does that.

“It’s funny how you never knock on my door but you do on your own.” You retort, trying to ease the sudden tension with a good joke; because damn, there is something in the air, let me tell you.

You have no idea what’s going on right now, to be honest. Was that kiss enough for him to understand you want to be his and his only? Are you dating now? Or are you… exploring? Are you roommates who officially kiss sometimes?

You should have been more clear about your intentions. Okay, Izuku isn’t a person who would be into the whole “friends with benefits” thing but still…

“You did tell me I tend to have the orders wrong, so…maybe it’s a personality trait?” Izu giggles while reminiscing about his drunk shenanigans in the forest.

“Well yeah, I’m sorry to be disappointing, but I’m more the ‘court me, love me then wash my back in the river, naked’ kinda gal.” You snicker as he sneaks closer to the bed.

“I’ll try to remember that, Sweet Pea.”

… and fuck, hearing your nickname from his lips again does some things to your heart.

“You better do, Izu-Izu.” You mumble as he crawls under the comforter with you. He doesn’t come close yet; he lays on his back first then changes his mind and turns over to you while he shamelessly stares at your face illuminated by the moonlight.

“I remember the first night when I came back and you were sleeping on the table. You were so beautiful.” Izuku sighs. “I thought I only feel this way about you because I’ve never shared a flat with a woman before. I forced my feelings down to not make it weird, but they bubbled up, time to time, and by the time I realized I’m going overboard, there was no way back; it was all over for me when I felt you in my arms for the first time. I knew I will never be able to let you go, even if it’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.” Izuku’s hand snakes towards you until he finds your hand under the covers; his thumb caresses your palms while he mutters into the sheets.

“I thought I’m just being a fangirl and I tried so hard to keep it that way. It took me forever to realize I don’t see you as pro hero Deku anymore and it was so painful when I did.” You mutter back.

“Why?” Izuku asks and you can’t help but laugh.

“Because there was no way in hell you would ever look at me any other way, Izu. At least I thought you wouldn’t. Pro hero Deku was already my dream guy but somehow, Izuku… was even better, even more unreachable. Because Izuku is perfect in every single way and I’m just me. I thought this Izuku guy deserves the world but I’m just a piece of sand on the beach.” You sigh into the small space between you two.

Izuku stays silent for a few moments.

“So you didn’t realize you were his world all along?” He whispers, his hands moving towards your middle to pull you close. Your heart makes a somersault in your chest.

“It had not cross my mind.” You smile with tears pooling in your eyes.

“This Izuku guy needs to get his shit together and show you then.” He smiles, his eyes just as wet as yours.

“Can he start with a good night kiss?” You ask cheekily.

“He certainly can.” Izuku answers with a mischievous smile on his face as he closes the distance between you two and pushes forward for a slow, deep kiss. Your bodies slot into each other perfectly, not a single millimeter left between you two as he pulls you closer and closer with every single, lazy kiss until the sun peeks through the window.

The poor boy will have a hard time waking up tomorrow morning, that’s for sure; but nothing in the whole wide world can ruin the giddy happiness you both feel as you snuggle into the other with lips puffy, red and tingly from all the kissing, bodies warm and comfortable under the featherlight cover as you take in the other’s scent, knowing this is what you will fall asleep to every single day for the rest of your lives.

The End…?!

…

“Sweet Pea, wake up.” A pleasant voice chirps into your ears, but it’s way too early and it’s so nice and warm in Izuku’s embrace…

“Fuck no, go away.” You grumble at the pleasant voice, pushing yourself deeper into Izuku’s chest to hide your ears from the annoying chirp.

“Fuck yes, you are suffering with me today, love.” Izuku giggles, leaving small kisses on your cheeks and forehead to wake you up.

“5 more minutes?” You whine but the boy is ruthless; his arms disappear from around you and it’s suddenly so cold and the bed isn’t as comfortable as it was a few seconds ago… “You are so mean!”

Izuku doesn’t answer for a while but you can hear the rustle of his costume as he changes. You really have the urge to peek, but you decide to behave yourself; you’ll be able to peek whenever you want in the near future, there is no reason to rush it. One thing at a time.

“You might wanna take a shower and brush your hair before I introduce you to my team. Sleepy Sweet Pea is my favorite Sweet Pea, but I would rather keep this look for myself, if you don’t mind me being a little bit selfish.” Izuku sits back, his fingers playing with your frizzy hair. It takes you a few seconds to understand the implications of the sentence, but when you do, you jump up as though someone just electrocuted you.

“WHAT?!”

“We are going to my agency. I’ll give you a complete tour. Then we will sneak into Kacchan’s agency to say hi.” Izuku fakes nonchalance but you can see the mischievous smile hiding behind his hands.

“OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO PRO HERO DEKU’S AGENCY OH MY GOD.” You jump into the greenette’s lap with zero shame. He giggles like a high school boy. You fucking love that giggle.

“You are literally in pro hero Deku’s lap right now, Sweets.” Midoriya comments with an incredulous look.

“Shut up Izuku and let me geek out!” You yell into the silence; Izuku winces from the loudness as it hits his sensitive ears but he can’t help the happy laugh bubbling up his chest.

“You haven’t changed at all.”

“Nope.” You grin as you jump off his lap to start to get ready. “Oh my god, okay, I need to shower, brush my hair, straighten it, put on some make up…” You start to mumble as you start running around in Izuku’s room in a frenzy. “This is not my room, fuck.” You giggle awkwardly as you look down at the random Deku hoodie you took out of his dresser by accident.

“You can wear that if you want.” Izuku winks and you are just about to become a blushing mess when a new voice joins the conversation.

“Come on, lovebirds, Mei’s plane arrives in an hour!” Melissa giggles outside.

“Oh fuck.” You laugh at your own shenanigans and make your way towards the main bathroom, but not before you leave a small, closed mouthed kiss on Izuku’s lips. “I’ll be ready in 10.”

“Minutes or hours?” Izuku retorts with his whole face red as a tomato; kissing in broad daylight is a new thing for you both.

“Oi, shut up, Mr. IWakeUpLookingPerfectAfter3HoursSleep.” You mumble under your breath as you sprint out of his room.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy in your whole life and fuck, it’s only going to get better from now on!

You can’t wait to tell Jirou about this and hug the shit out of her for forcing you to take a leap of faith and move in with a stranger.

You’ve definitely made the best decision of your life on that dreadful afternoon.

Click here for season 2!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I can’t believe we are done with Season 1! I want to cry 😢 I hope you liked the “ending”. Obviously this story is far from being done hence why it might not feel like an actual ending. I have so many ideas and I really hope you guys will stay for season two!

- There will be a break next week then we are back in business! I already finished the new header so take a look!

- I want to thank you guys for all your comments and likes on this one, it was so much fun to read them all and I absolutely loved answering your questions about the story!

- Season 2 might have some other ships mentioned as well, I hope that’s fine! I’m also working on a Kirishima x Bakugou extra as I’m quite sure you guys already had a feeling there is something going on with those two in the background 😂

- Season two will be slightly more suggestive but in case I decide to go further than that I’ll make it a separate chapter and make sure you guys know it’s 18+, but I haven’t decided yet so feel free to tell me your thoughts! (It won’t be as suggestive as the S2 of my Bakugou story, Izuku isn’t that kinda guy. 😂)

- See you guys in two weeks, I love you all! 💕

TL: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 OST - Hella Spoilery

Daniel Hart woke up and chose violence, I see. (Link)

I don't wanna hear any of the tracks until I actually see the episodes they're in--the emotional impact will hit so much harder that way. But the titles alone have me like 👀👀👀

Ep1: What Can the Damned Really Say to the Damned?

We were already devastated by the strings in Ep1, such beautiful tracks, and my favorite scene in S2 so far, as Louis just cried his eyes out over knowing his baby girl could dream. It was such a perfect nod to Merrick, and Louis thanking her for showing him Claudia's diaries.

EMMY. 👏 WHEN? 👏

Ep2: Do You Know What It Means to be Loved By Death?

These definitely look like they're going in episode order--this is all Theatre stuff we've seen bits of in the teasers. I'm unsure about Ep3 & Ep4 though; I'm just going off of my hunches ATM?

Ep3: No Pain | Ep4: I Want You More Than Anything in the World

WOAH. 😲

I see you Mr. Gentleman Death, but hold on a sec--

Welp, it's official, Tale of the Body Thief is definitely cooking; the Raglan James leaks weren't lying! I am SO happy! And terrified!

If they're going by the order in the books, not the teaser/promo, then rule #4 is about Lestat, and "killing your own kind."

I have no idea why this track is way at the bottom of the playlist

But I suspect it's also related to this episode, and whatever goes down with the Coven/Theatre vs Claudia & Louis.

We were told in a recent review that "I Don't Like Windows When They're Closed" is the song Claudia performs as Baby LouLou; I am SO excited for this! It's gonna be WEIRD, I can feel it. 👶🏾🎼

These tracks are way at the bottom of the playlist and IDKY, but it's obvs Claudia as Baby LouLou, and that's just French for "I Don't Like Windows...."

Ep5: Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape

The backstory we've all been waiting for! ^0^

And they already warned us that Ep5 was gonna be effing NUTS, so I imagine Armand will tell his story to DANIEL--in SanFran????

Ep6: Like the Light by which God Made the World Before He Made Light | Ep7: I Could Not Prevent It

👀👀👀☀️🔥💀🔥🎭🔥⚰️⚰️⚰️🔥💀🍿

Who TF is Francis? Francis of Assssi? XD

PLEASE let this be Lestat's POV when he first got to NOLA--I wanna know why he went there, and where he was BEFORE! Was he asleep? Is he STILL asleep in 2022?!

👀👀👀☀️🔥💀🔥🎭🔥⚰️⚰️⚰️🔥💀🍿

PLEASE let this be Louis discovering the Fire Gift as he lights those mofos up! 🙏🙏🙏🙏

The Garden of Satan is giving me Children of Satan/Darkness vibes--maybe this is about Nicki ALSO dying in a fire? 👀 Jfc this is too much.

Ep8: Unannounced Mystery Title

I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and assume the PLETHORA of songs left on this list are from Ep8, cuz I literally have zero context for it--all we know is that it will supposedly segue into S3 TVL.

The crooner is back! But will it be REAL Lestat? in 2022? Rockstar!Lestat!? Flashbacks to 1900s!Loustat? Or more DreamStat?

Yeah, I got nuthin.

Lestat mentioned Le Bucheron before about dogs vs lambs--

--so I'm wondering if this has anything to do with Les feeling like he's still being "herded" by lesser vampires?

Or perhaps GREATER vampires (Armand.... Magnus.... TWMBK?)

This is all giving me heavy TVL vibes!

HOWEVER--

"Followed Closely By My Madness" could be for Nicki, but we all know it could also be referring to LOUIS, a la Merrick. ☀️💀🔥⚰️👀

I am SO STOKED for this season, they better stop playing with me!

[bluegalaxygirl]

Obsession's Grip (Zosan X Reader) P13

Plot: After saving some of the straw hat crew from a prison, the crew help takes a young man away so he can have a fresh start in life. He's shy but seems to grow attached to Reader in an unhealthy way.

Warning: Snakes, Bad language, Drugs, Blood, Violence, mentions of death and Making out.

Reader is Female (Sorry), Zoro X Sanji X Reader, Poly relationship, established relationship. Reader has the ability to control the snake tattoos on her arms that come alive when she commands, they can change size and are connected to her emotions.

P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P14

Sitting down at the dinning table you manage to explain and tell the crew everything that happened while you were with Percy and how the situation came to be, you stayed surprisingly calm through the whole thing even though deep down you were angry and upset. Zoro leans against the table his hand around your waist as he sits next to you, the slight anger he had before increased at hearing what Percy put you through, but he also feels pride at how you fought back. Sanji sits on your other side leaning back in his chair with his arm over the back of your chair letting his fingers run little circles on your shoulder blade and back, his body tenses at hearing what happened and what he said to you, its clear Percy has developed an obsession. Chopper gives you a sad look from across the table, he had a faint idea of what happened due to your injuries but it was worse than he thought "What happened after?" The doctor asks hoping the young man didn't do anything else to you, a light blush appears across your cheeks as you squeeze Sanji's hand remembering the relief you felt at seeing the cook over you when you woke up, your other hand lies on Zoro's thigh giving it a light squeeze as the blush on your face darkens remembering his words "When i woke up, someone was beating the shit out of Percy and the other was almost in dream land" You giggle looking from the swordsman to the cook who both have different reactions to your explanation, Zoro gives the crew a proud smirk squeezing your side while letting out a small chuckle proud of his handy work, but Sanji looks away lightly biting his lip since he feels a little embarrassed about it all. "I wasn't in dream land i- i just…" The cook tries to explain.

You didn't mean to embarrass him but the cook really was falling in love all over again at Zoro's aggressive words, "Admit it, you liked the show" The swordsman teases leaning over you to run a finger under the cooks chin causing the blonde to blush more and slap his hand away "S-shut up moss head" Sanji stutters earning a giggle from Robin and a big laugh from Luffy and Usopp who lean on each other as to not fall of their chairs, Nami smirks watching your face closely noticing the blush still hasn't faded from your face which means your hiding something she wants to know. Leans over the table the navigator poke your nose getting your attention "Then what?… i know that blush Y/n, something else happened" She sing songs making your smile drop and cheeks go redder at her teasing, you have no chose but to turn away hoping to avoiding her mischievous eyes. Luffy lets out another big laugh this time slapping the table with his hand while holding his stomach "Your face is so red Y/n… you look like a tomato" The captain's laughter is soon joined by Brook and Usopp making you hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment, a part of you wants to tell Nami its nothing but you know she'll keep pushing until she knows especially with the others now involved. "My love, there's no need to be embarrassed" Sanji leans closer placing a kiss on your head knowing what your embarrasses about, Zoro chuckles shaking his head "Your really embarrassed about it? your the one who asked for it" The swordsman teases gripping your waist harder earning a squeak from you since it tickled a little.

Still hiding behind your hands you mumble under your breath earning a raised eyebrow from the crew but Nami grins leaning in closer knowing your about to crack, she just needs to give a little push. "What was that? Come on i really want to know now, no more joking and teasing i promise… Pinkie promise" the navigator holds out her pinkie as you slide a finger to the side in order to peek though your hands seeing if she means it or not, you know she'll keep a promise so slowly lowering your hands you move your pinkie out to meet hers only to stop suddenly. "Let me see your other hand" You glare noticing her other hand isn't in view, Nami lets out a long sigh in frustration but bring it out from where it was hiding under the table, you didn't want her crossing her fingers making the Pinkie promise Invalid. "Happy?" Nami asks while clearly showing her hand as you take her pinkie finger in yours "Very" Your glare fades as you unhook pinkie fingers letting the navigator sit back down properly waiting for you to spill the beans. "So what happens?" Luffy asks slightly bouncing eager to know what it is that Nami is so interested to find out, Sanji gives you a smile while squeezing your hand to give you encouragement while Zoro rubs your waist giving you a cocky grin. The swordsman knows you won't say anything about what he said after, it was a vulnerable moment for him and both his partners know not to betray his trust by telling others.

You lean back in your chair while rolling your eyes at your crew nosy and your unhelpful partners, you hoped they would either say it for you or get Nami to leave you alone but you've made a promise now so have no chose. "Ok fine, I just wanted a kiss before we headed back and then all of a sudden i could move my arms" Most of the crews eyes go wide at this but Luffy looks around at the crew with a raised eyebrow "You guys kiss all the time" The captain points out only for Usopp to sigh and pat his friend on the shoulder, they should have known he wouldn't get it or even remember what the seed is called. Zoro chuckles at their reactions leaning in close to you and placing a kiss on your neck as his hand squeezes your side making you squeak again but this time hit his chest. "I still can't believe it worked but i'm glad it did" The swordsman gives you a soft smile as you turn to glare at him only for the green haired man to lightly peck your lips, giving in to the warmth filling your heart you lean into the short kiss. Sanji hums in agreement bringing your hand to his lips and placing a kiss on your knuckles letting his lips longer as the memory fills his mind and how revealed when you could move again. "Who knew true loves kiss would actually work" the cook chuckles as you turn to look at him seeing those soft beautiful loving eyes that make you melt, leaning in Sanji places a light kiss on your lips that you happily return. Nami sits back with her eyes slightly wide as a blush forms on her cheeks realizing how much the three of you actually love each other and that a true loves kiss is actually real, she can't understand how something like that can work, its so romantic yet so illogical.

Brook's jolly laugh gets most of the crew's attention getting them to snap out of their shocked state, turning to the three of you the skeleton places a hand over where his heart should be "How wonderful, its like a real life fairy tale. I'll have to write a song about this" Sanji can't help but blush slightly at the thought of a song being dedicated to their love but Zoro just rolls his eyes letting out a short laugh at how ridiculous he thinks it sounds. "I'm really confused" Luffy tilts his head still not understating the situation but luckily Usopp is happy to help, pulling his captain closer the sniper starts explaining while the others talk, Robin with a finger on her chin lets out a hum in thought. "How interesting, i wonder… if it brings some truth to the Snow white story then what other fairy tales are real or hold some kind of truth to them?… also how does it work? is it really just true love that counteracts the affects or is it a chemical reaction?" The black haired woman ponders as Chopper looks up at her confused wondering how it works too, but he also can't help the smile on his face, he loves fairy tales so thinking that one might actually be true sends joy through his fluffy body. "The kiss helped me move my arms a little and get my heart beat and breathing better but i think it was your cure that helped with the rest" You smile over to Chopper hoping he isn't too upset about his cure being pushed aside "I'm glad i helped but i'm also glad the kiss worked, Its so sweet how much you love each other" The doctor sways making you blush at his comment.

Sanji lets out a small laugh while placing kiss on your cheek his hand reaching over to rub Zoro's shoulder, The swordsman gives a big smirk while leaning over to kiss your neck before placing a kiss on the cooks hand that lifts up from his shoulder to rub the green haired man's cheek. Luffy shoots up with a big smile after having everything explained to him, his hands slamming down on the table making the plates clatter and glasses shake "That's so cool" the captain yells making most of the crew laugh at his very late response to the new's, Nami sighs though and pinches the bridge of her nose, she's glad she knows but this doter in the conversation has gone on too long for her liking. "That's sweet and all but were getting off track… What do we do with Percy?" The navigator asks hating to ruin the moment, but they'll be leaving tomorrow morning, so they have to figure out what to do with the young man, she's not about to let him stay on the ship longer than needed. Zoro smirks leaning forward while placing a hand on his swords "Lets just kill him and get it over with" Robin taps her chin at this before shaking her head earning a groan off the swordsman "After everything he's done i feel like a quick death is too nice… I personally would give him a taste of his own medicine" The black haired woman states while shrugging her shoulders, Chopper gulps at this while rubbing his arm "You mean, give him the seed? If we give him enough he'll die from it, is that what you mean?" The doctor asks unsure if thats a good idea or not but Robin nods with a sadistic smile. "I think thats a good idea but i want him to feel how Y/n felt first, i also want to kick his ass again, he isn't hurt nearly enough" Sanji grips your hand at he speaks hating how you looked and must have felt not being able to move and hallucinating who knows what.

Brook lets out a hum unable to think of any ideas until he remembers what Nami said yesterday "Why don't we just do Nami's old idea? You know, tie something heavy to him and throw him over board" The skeleton shrugs earning a smile from the navigator who nods happy that he brought it up "I still think thats a good way to get rid of him but after hearing everything i agree with Sanji, he should experience what Y/n went through" The navigator evilly smirks making Usopp lean away from her in slight fear not liking the look on her face, but he also wanted to make Percy suffer for what he did so gulps though his fear in order to talk "Why don't we just dump him on the island and leave him to rot?" The sniper asks only to earn a glare from Zoro, Sanji and Nami which makes him jump but before the three can protest or yell at him you finally speak up "That's not a good idea. He's smart and will find a way off the island at some point or someone might come across him. Either way he'll find a way off and will do this to someone else, i'm not going to let some poor soul go threw what i went through" It was unclear before what you wanted, but as everyone was talking and the ideas piled up your mind kept coming back to one thing as your eyes lock on your tattooed arm. "So what do you want to do?" Luffy asks tilting his head at your blank face, Sanji squeezes your hand giving you a concerned look while Zoro pulls you into him not liking that look on your face and the slight tension in your body, neither one have ever seen you like this before so can't tell what your thinking and feeling "No one is killing him-"

Before you can say more the room erupts into groans and slight yelling "What?" Nami and Sanji both yell giving you a shocked look while Brook, Usopp and Zoro groan in annoyance not understanding what you want, Luffy tilts his head further while crossing his arms over his chest knowing there's more too it. " So your not going to let him live or dump him on the island?" Nami yells in confutation wondering what is running though your head. "My love? He hurt you in so many ways and like you said before, if he lives he'll do this again" Sanji states taking your chin to make you look at him, you sigh and try to explain only for Zoro to release your waist while standing up his hang gripping his swords tightly. "The hell Y/n? We can't keep him on the ship, i don't mind if you can't do it but I'll happily kill him after what he's done" The swordsman yells going to walk away only to be stopped when you quickly stand and grab his arm, anger gets the better of you since no one is letting you talk or finish what you were about to say so you yank Zoro's arm forcing him back to you before pointing to the chair "Everyone shut up and Zoro sit down" You yell managing to make the room go quiet, the swordsman slowly sits down his eyes slightly wide since its rare for you to show your anger. Taking a breath you try to calm yourself while sitting back down but still keeping a firm grip on the swordsman's arm, so he won't get back up again "I wasn't finished" You state through gritted teeth mainly glaring at Zoro while saying it.

Looking at the rest of the crew you sigh giving your captain a sorry look not meaning to yell but Luffy nods letting you know he understands, and he's not mad. "What i was saying was, No one is killing him but me" You state taking your hand off Zoro's arm now that you've gotten it out "I've deiced tonight i'm going to let my snakes do it since their over eager and i want him to know how i actually feel. Until then, you guys can do what ever you want to him, i don't care what you do but i have two conditions. One, he doesn't leave that closet and two, don't kill him" Crossing your arms over your chest you lean back in your chair feeling a lot calmer now you've gotten it out but your surprised at the long silence you get in return. Robin gives you a smile and a nod letting you know she's happy with your destitution which makes you smile. "What if some of us don't want to do anything?" Usopp asks looking around the room in hopes he doesn't get yelled at by someone but you shrug while uncrossing your arms "You don't have to do anything" you reassure earning a sigh of relief from the sniper, "Sorry for yelling Y/n" Nami bits her lip while looking away feeling bad since she yelled at you and didn't let you finish, giving her a nod you feel Sanji take your hand and interlocking his fingers with yours "I'm sorry too my love, i should have let you finish but… Will you be ok with doing it?" The cook asks with slight concern in his eyes, he knows your technically not the one to end him, but he's still worried that it'll affect you.

Giving the blonde a sweet smile you bring up your hand to lightly brush his cheek "I'll be fine, don't worry" Sanji relaxes at your touch turning to kiss your hand before you pull it away "We'll i'm glad thats sorted" Luffy smiles wide while leaning back in his chair and rubbing his large belly at how much he has eaten thought their conversation, letting out a small laugh Robin stands up out of her seat "I'll inform Franky and take over, so he can eat" Robin smiles standing up from her chair soon followed by Zoro who takes your hand "Can we talk?" He asks flicking his eyes between you and Sanji, knowing he's not happy about something the two of you quickly stand and nod but the cook looks over at the kitchen letting out a sigh "Just let me lock up and I'll meet you in our room" Sanji gives the two of you a smile before glaring at Luffy who puts his hands up in surrender earning a laugh from Brook and Usopp, The swordsman nods squeezing your hand as he pulls you out the kitchen. Making you way across the deck you notice how tense Zoro is but his face is blank making a pit form in your stomach since you can't tell what he's feeling. "Are you mad at me?" You hesitantly ask not sure if you want to know the answer or not but the swordsman lets out a heavy sigh giving you a quick glance before opening the door to your bedroom, once the door is closed behind the two of you Zoro turns to you letting go of your hand "No i'm not mad at you.. i'm just" The swordsman sighs rubbing the back of his head, stepping closer you take his free hand giving him a soft smile.

Zoro relaxes at your touch starting to feel more confident with what he needs to say now that your both behind closed doors "Lets wait for Sanji before i get to the big stuff but for now i.. I'm sorry for snapping at you" The swordsman apologies managing to meet your eyes, reaching up you run your hand over his cheek while leaning in to kiss his cheek "Thank you" You whisper pulling away only for Zoro to grab your waist pulling you in for a heated kiss, his lips crash against yours with need his tongue easily slipping into your mouth making you hum in delight, unfortunately your kiss is cut short by a knock at the door. Pulling away you both look over to see Sanji walking in and closing the door behind him with a smile "I thought we were going to talk?" The cook teases as he makes his way over, taking his hand you pull the blonde into the two of you while leaning up to lightly peck his lips "We are, but we were waiting for you" Zoro smirks taking Sanji's other hand and giving it a squeeze, the cook nods giving a smile back gesturing for the swordsman to speck his mind. Letting out breath Zoro turns his attention back to you seeing you make the same gesture. "I need to know if your fully sure about this, I know it's not going to be you killing him but still your going to kill someone." Giving him a sad look you reach up to cup his cheek knowing he's worried about your mental well-being afterwords. "Zoro, i understand your concerned but I'll be fine. I won't be in the room when it happens, my snakes will take care of things so please don't worry"

The two body sigh in relief glad that you won't be there when it happens "Good, i don't want you alone with him" Sanji lets out a small nervous laugh, he was worried Percy would try and manipulate or mentally hurt you again but you bit your lip knowing you wanted a privet word with the young man "I do want to say a few things to him before i leave my snakes to it but… I know you two won't like it but i don't want you there when i do" You know they would protest so hold up your hands to stop them before they can even voice their worries and anger, luckily the two keep quiet but clench their teeth waiting for you to explain your reasons why "He's convinced your both manipulating me into saying and doing things, i want him to know that what i say is my words not yours. i'm not going to try and reason with him or get him to understand, i just want him to know that what i say is my words not yours" Putting your hands down you wait for the two to respond but surprisingly its silent, Zoro clenches his fits wanting to argue, but he understands your need to make things clear, Sanji lets out a sigh wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him and place a kiss on your head "Alright my love, but we'll be outside just in case you need us ok?" The cook asks hoping you'll say yes, The swordsman looks up at the two of you feeling a little better when you nod your head, stepping closer Zoro wraps his arms back around the two of you holding you both close to his chest "I can live with that" glad that the both of them are agreeing to this you lean up to place light kisses on each of their lips.

Unfortunately the swordsman had one last worry that he had to voice so pulls away slightly while gripping your waist "I.. I want to beat Percy's ass for what he did to you but i don't know if i can hold back, i nearly killed him out in the forest, if it wasn't for you waking up he would be dead." The swordsman sigh, giving him a soft smile you know it'll be hard for him to not kill the guy but you trust him and know that if he did, it would be an accident. "i won't get mad it you accidentally kill him, i know your anger can sometimes get the better of you but your really good at controlling it when it matters" You reassure but Zoro's face is still shows confliction, placing a kiss on his cheek Sanji gives the green haired man a small smile "I really want to make him pay too, why don't we kick his ass together, I'll make sure you don't kill him and then after we can take a bath together" The suggestion finally makes the swordsman smile while nodding in agreement, he normally wouldn't like someone holding him back but this time he'll make an exception. "Well you better hop to it then, in half an hour i'm getting a bath so unless you don't want to join me…" You smirk earning quick kisses off the two which makes you giggle at their eagerness "Love you babe" Zoro kisses your cheek before rushing out the bedroom not wanting to waist time in beating Percy's ass, so he can bath with you, Sanji kisses your other cheek before heading off after the swordsman "Love you mi amour" The cook calls back giving you a wave while trying to catch up with the swordsman.

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast

Summary: Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

TW: Brief mention of suicide, body image issues, eating disorder. Period typical racism.

A/N: Another long one, ~8k words. The end had me giggling and kicking my feet. I hope you enjoy! Comments and criticism are always welcome :)

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig **please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Kate and I met this strange young bastard, Beau, and his forbidden love Penelope. Poor kids are just lookin’ for freedom but they’re stuck in some old family feud they ain’t even a part of. We delivered some letters for them, Kate insisted on it. I  gave her grief about it at first, but she was determined to go out of her way for these kids. Woman’s got a heart of gold.

Somehow, I ended up marching as a suffragette, the looks of loathing on the face of the locals amused me. I don’t know much about good causes, but I enjoyed my little experience riding alongside them. Kate showed me there’s more than one path, she chose to do the right thing and we still managed to gather some useful information. 

She makes my head dizzy sometimes, this woman. Came right out and asked to kiss me again! I choked up bad. She’s always speaking her mind, like she ain’t afraid of nothing. I love that about her. I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn’t. I just can not do that to her. She’s been through too much already, and she deserves a good man. 

And I don’t deserve that kinda happiness. 

Arthur woke the next morning with a heavy weight on his chest, the remnants of a sleepless night etched into the lines of his weary face. Kate's tender words echoed in his mind like a haunting melody, refusing to fade with the dawn. No one had spoken to him with such honesty and vulnerability in ages, and Arthur couldn't shake the memory of disappointment flickering in Kate's eyes when he couldn't reciprocate her feelings. As much as his heart longed to kiss and hold her again. 

As he lay there, Arthur's thoughts drifted back to Mary, the woman he once loved. He recalled the night he proposed to her, the anticipation heavy in the air, only to be met with the sting of rejection. Mary wanted him to leave behind his life of danger, to embrace a quieter existence with her, far from the chaos of the gang. Arthur understood her desire for simplicity, but he couldn't abandon the gang; the family that needed him. He pleaded with Mary to join him, but she refused, unwilling to sever ties with her own family, especially her younger brother.

Now, years later, Arthur felt he had strayed too far down a path of darkness to ever deserve happiness again. The memory of Mary's rejection lingered as a painful reminder of his inability to change, to be the man she needed. He believed himself beyond redemption, resigned to a life devoid of the joy he once craved.

To his surprise, Kate appeared unfazed by Arthur's refusal the previous night. She greeted him in the morning with her usual warmth, as if their conversation had not left a lingering tension between them. They shared breakfast together, engaging in easy conversation that helped ease some of the weight on Arthur's shoulders. Kate mentioned that she had already discussed their findings with Hosea, who wanted to meet with Arthur later that evening regarding a potential job at the Braithwaite estate.

Her calm demeanor brought Arthur a sense of comfort amid his inner turmoil. As they finished their meal, Kate gracefully excused herself to resume her tasks with the other girls. She promised to join him for dinner as usual, maintaining their routine without skipping a beat. Arthur watched her go about her duties with a mixture of admiration and gratitude. Despite his fears of pushing her away, Kate seemed to understand. And didn’t think ill of him for it. 

As the day unfolded, Arthur found himself immersed in a job orchestrated by Uncle—an opportunity to stage a simple yet lucrative payroll robbery. He teamed up with Charles and together they executed the heist with precision. The stagecoach robbery went off without a hitch, yielding a substantial sum that brought a brief sense of satisfaction to Arthur, feeling like a proper thief he was raised to be.

As the sun began its descent, Arthur sought out Hosea near the hidden stash of stolen moonshine. He detailed his failed attempt to sell back the stolen moonshine to the Braithwaites. Hosea recounted how they had approached the Braithwaite matriarch with an offer, only to be met with a cold rejection. The old woman haughtily declared that they deserved no reward for returning what she considered rightfully hers. Instead, in a spiteful act of retribution, she offered a meager ten dollars to distribute the moonshine for free at Mr. Gray's saloon.

Arthur was puzzled by the Braithwaite's response. Hosea clarified that it was a calculated move—a means of exacting revenge on the Grays and the town drunks. By turning the intoxicated patrons into even greater fools for the night, the Braithwaites hoped to incite chaos and leave Sheriff Gray to deal with the ensuing fallout.

Amidst the chaos of the moonshine-fueled night at Mr. Gray's saloon, Arthur assumed his familiar role as "Fenton," a persona he had adopted in previous schemes alongside Hosea. The act required him to play the part of Hosea’s younger idiot brother, who also happened to be mute. His only job was keeping glasses filled without uttering a single word. Though Arthur despised the charade, he couldn't suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of their antics—the lengths they would go to for a successful heist.

Draped in the guise of Fenton, Arthur navigated the rowdy patrons, handing out moonshine liberally as the atmosphere inside the saloon grew increasingly raucous. The scene was a stark reminder of earlier days, when he and Hosea were younger and life seemed simpler, despite the risks they took.

As the night wore on, the situation escalated when Sheriff Gray himself appeared, prompting Hosea and Arthur to spring into action. Shots rang out, echoing through the old saloon as lawmen pursued them. With practiced ease, they slipped through the back door, disappearing into the shadows and swiftly making their way to the waiting wagon. In the chaos that ensued, Arthur expertly handled their pursuers while Hosea skillfully guided the reins.

A small shootout erupted as the Grays chased them through the winding back roads and fields leading out of Rhodes. Arthur remained focused, taking down their adversaries while Hosea expertly navigated the terrain. The tension was palpable, the thrill of the night's escapade mingling with the danger of their flight.

Approaching the train tracks, Arthur spotted a train. With precise timing, they crossed just as the locomotive barreled through, cutting off their pursuers. The lawmen were left stranded on the other side, unable to follow.

Once they were safely beyond reach, away from the danger that had pursued them, laughter erupted between Arthur and Hosea. It was a release of pent-up tension, the adrenaline-fueled joy of a successful escape mingling with the shared camaraderie of outlaws.

“Remind me to never take up a career in…what was it? Bartending,” Arthur chuckled, glancing back at the remaining clinking bottles they were unable to distribute.

“I didn’t know they’d throw so much of a fuss over booze, this town is odd,” Hosea answered, shaking his head as he cracked the reins of the wagon.

Arthur furrowed his brow, considering the surplus moonshine. “What should we do with all the shine we still have left?”

Hosea’s expression turned grim. “That miserable Braithewaite woman wants us to burn the Grays' tobacco fields with it, I was hoping you and Sean could handle that tomorrow night.” 

“Damn, ain’t that makin’ a bit too much noise? I thought we were tryin’ to lay low in all this. These fellas may be drunks and racists, but they ain’t afraid to kill, you saw them back there,” Arthur expressed his concern.

Hosea sighed, revealing a hint of hesitation. “Dutch thinks there's money in this somewhere. His plan is to get them all riled up on each other and use that as an opportunity to slip in and rob ‘em.”

Arthur fell silent, contemplating the dangerous path they were treading by getting involved in a longstanding blood feud. “Things could get real ugly, Hosea. Do you really think one of these families is sitting on a pile of money?”

“Can’t say. But the cash box is getting full again, Arthur. We’ve been doing well on making money. With just a bit more cash, we’ll be out of here,” Hosea replied, injecting a note of hope into the conversation. Sensing Arthur's unease, he changed the subject. “Kate told me about your adventures yesterday. How are things going between you two?”

As their wagon rattled down the road, illuminated by the soft glow of the full moon, Arthur felt a sense of comfort settle over him. He glanced over at Hosea, his trusted father figure, and knew that he could confide in him about anything. The old man had a way of understanding Arthur's thoughts and feelings without needing them spelled out.

Arthur shifted uneasily in his seat, rubbing his palms together nervously, the words weighing heavily on his mind. It wouldn't escape Hosea's notice that Arthur was quite sweet on Kate. After all, it had been Hosea's idea to pair them up for the day, hoping to give Arthur a chance to spend time with her away from the group.

“I kissed her the other night, when she was singin’ a lullaby for Jack,” Arthur began, the words spilling out into the night air like a secret long kept.“She… she wanted to kiss me again today and, I really wanted to, but I had to let her down easy,”  He glanced over at Hosea, seeking some semblance of understanding in the old man's eyes.

Hosea raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You kissed her and ditched her? I thought I raised you better, son,” he teased, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

Arthur chuckled, though there was a tinge of self-deprecation in his amusement. “I know, I’m dumber than a bag of rocks.”

Hosea patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly, his touch grounding. “You may be good at playing an idiot like Fenton,” he remarked, referencing their recent job, “but you’re a smart boy. What harm could come if you just let it happen and see where it takes you?”

With a heavy sigh, Arthur leaned back in the seat, his gaze drifting up to the blinking stars above, memories of Kate’s confession flooding his thoughts. “I just don’t wanna hurt her. And… I don’t wanna feel that kinda hurt again.”

Nodding in understanding, Hosea's expression softened with a paternal concern for the young cowboy. “I’m not gonna live forever, son. I’d just like to see you be happy with someone before I go.”

“I was happy once. I had a woman who loved me, and she left me because I couldn’t change for her.” Arthur admitted, his voice giving away the deep sorrow he still harbored about his young love. 

“Mary was a good woman, I did like her. You were both so young and naive, still navigating your own lives,” Hosea mused, his voice carrying the weight of hindsight. His gaze softened with memories. “But I don’t think she was the right one for you. She couldn’t tame that wild heart of yours.”

Arthur listened, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the wagon jostling over uneven terrain. “Sometimes, I feel like I can’t even tame it myself,” he confessed, his tone tinged with resignation.

Hosea's eyes twinkled with a knowing glint. “That's why you need someone strong enough to stand in the ring with you,” he remarked, his voice brimming with wisdom, “and face down the beast with a heart just as wild.”

Arthur nodded slowly, the words sinking in like stones dropped into a still pond. He mulled over Hosea's advice, feeling the weight of his own heart's desires. The night enveloped them in a cocoon of shared understanding, the stars above bearing witness to their quiet contemplation.

Arthur’s confession hung heavy in the air, his words weighed down by the burden of his past. “Once she knows what I’ve done, I don’t think she can forgive me for it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, like a man confessing his sins.

Hosea let out a light scoff, his eyes bright with a hint of amusement. “Son, your bounty has been posted in almost every town in the west,” he remarked wryly. “She knows we’re outlaws, I think she’s probably aware you’ve killed some folk.”

Shaking his head slowly, Arthur gathered his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the horizon ahead. “No, no it ain’t that,” he muttered, his words heavy with hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Kate told me ‘bout her family, how they all passed from accidents or disease. She even had to bury her own daughter. I just…” His voice trailed off, grappling with the weight of his own truth. “I just don’t know how to tell her about my own. About my son, Isaac. Or Eliza.”

Hosea leaned back against the wagon’s seat, his expression thoughtful. “What’s stopping you from telling her? That’s something you two have in common,” he pointed out gently.

“Because I–I can’t tell her I’m the reason they’re dead,” Arthur confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “Family means so much to her, she’d never forgive me for throwing it away.”

The old man regarded Arthur with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. “Son, if you’re so worried about her turning the other cheek on you, I think you need to tell her the truth,” Hosea advised, his tone earnest. “She’s going to find out eventually, and you know she’s a smart woman. She understands what you are and still chooses to be by your side. And I’d be surprised if she draws the line at something that happened in the past. You're too hard on yourself, Arthur. What happened to Eliza and Isaac was terrible, but it was not your fault.”

Arthur rarely spoke about his son, Isaac, even with Hosea, his closest confidant. The weight of their deaths bore heavily on his heart, like an anchor dragging him into the depths of guilt and regret. Isaac's passing had transformed Arthur into a different man, one hardened by grief and the burden of responsibility.

Hosea had witnessed the change in Arthur firsthand. Before the tragedy that befell Eliza and Isaac, Arthur was more carefree, with a spark of youthful innocence in his eyes. But as time wore on, a darkness crept into his demeanor, a shadow that never quite lifted. He carried their deaths like a scar, a permanent mark etched upon his soul.

In moments of vulnerability, Arthur would let slip glimpses of his sorrow, revealing the cracks in his stoic facade. He blamed himself for their deaths, convinced that if he had been a better man, a different man, things might have turned out differently. It was a burden he carried alone, tucked away behind layers of bravado and hardened resolve.

Hosea understood the depth of Arthur's pain, but he also recognized the resilience that lay beneath. Arthur's reluctance to share his grief spoke volumes about the depth of his sorrow. It was a wound that time could not heal, a wound that had shaped the man Arthur had become.

As the wagon turned down the familiar winding road that led to their camp, the night's chorus surrounded them with the faint hum of a crackling fire and the warm glow as it cast dancing shadows across the clearing.

Arthur broke the moment of silence, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I should’ve been there for them, Pa," he confessed, his eyes fixed on the dark silhouette of the trees passing by.

Hosea sighed, the years etched into the lines of his face. "Yes, son, but life has a way of throwing us off course, even when we try our best," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of wisdom earned through hardship. "This world can be cruel, as you well know."

"I can’t be a bad man and expect good things like Kate to happen to me. It just don’t work that way," Arthur continued, his words laced with self-doubt.

Hosea placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder, his touch a welcome comfort. "Kate sees something good in you, son," his tone was gentle yet firm. "Maybe it's time you started seeing it too."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate scrubbed diligently, the soap creating frothy suds as she ran the bar along the stretched cotton over the washboard. She sat on a small stool in the shade beneath a sprawling tree, her trousers dotted with darkened spots from the splashing water. The air was heavy with heat, but the coolness of the water in the small washtub offered a brief respite. With each steady motion, her fingers became slightly more pruned from the repeated immersion.

Beside her, Mary-Beth was busy ringing out the soapy cloth and dipping it into a clean bucket, the rhythmic process mirroring Kate's own. The girls found solace in their shared task, engaged in easy conversation to while away the chore.

“So,” Kate began, a mischievous glint in her eye, “I saw you talking to Kieran the other day. Want to spill the beans on what’s really going on there?” She nudged Mary-Beth playfully with her knee.

The young girl looked down, a faint blush tinting her cheeks as she tried to hide her face from Kate's teasing gaze. “He was just curious about the book I was reading, that’s all,” she admitted bashfully, her voice carrying a hint of embarrassment.

Kate knew Mary-Beth's romantic tendencies well. From the moment they met, it was clear that she had a penchant for love affairs and romantic tales—her nose buried in romance novels and dreams of penning her own someday.

“That’s all?” Kate teased, a playful glint in her eye. “I see you watching him groom those horses every day. Somebody's got eyes for the O’Driscoll boy,” she added, splashing a bit of water in jest.

Mary-Beth retaliated with a laugh, “He ain’t an O’Driscoll!” Her grin gave away any attempt at concealing her feelings. She glanced over towards the horses, and Kate followed her gaze to where Kieran Duffy was tending to the animals. “He’s been talkin’ to me a lot recently. I just think he’s sweet.”

Kate's eyes lingered on the scene, noticing Lenny and Javier saddling their horses nearby, while John caught her gaze as he approached them.

Just as Kate was about to respond, John called out to her, “Kate! You busy right now?”

She looked up, eyes squinting as the sun glowed behind his frame. She gestured with open palms towards the wash bin. “You need somethin’?” she asked.

John tipped his hat to Mary-Beth, who waved politely in return. “We’re heading out to the Braithwaite manor to check out some horses. Thought you might wanna come,” he explained, nodding back to where Lenny and Javier were waiting.

Kate chuckled, her tone lighthearted. “You plan on stealing them or something?”

John crossed his arms casually, “well, you know,” he trailed, “if the opportunity presents itself.” Not bothering to hide their dubious intentions. Kate has to remind herself sometimes that she is running with outlaws. For them, a job doesn't mean checking out the goods, it means stealing goods. 

He cleared his throat and explained the situation seriously, “some fella from the Gray family told us he’d pay to have their horses stolen. Also mentioned they go for $1000 a piece.”

Kate raised a brow of suspicion, “and you believe him?” 

John only shrugged, “it's worth looking into.”

She waved him off with a touch of concern, “I don’t want no trouble John, I’m sure you boys will manage fine without me.” 

John persisted, his voice reassuring. “It won’t be no trouble at all. We’ll be in and out, they won’t even know we’re there,” he said, adding an enticing detail, “word is they got some pretty nice gypsy horses. Real purebreds too.”

Kate found herself caught in the web of temptation. Stealing horses was not something she relished, but the promise of seeing such a purebred up close was alluring. If they pulled it off successfully, she knew the money would help the gang alot. She figured it wouldn't be so bad to help them in one little heist. 

As if Mary-Beth could sense her conflicting ideas, she interrupted the silence, "I can finish up here, Kate. You should go. They'll have a better chance of pulling it off with you." She winked knowingly, seeming to support Kate's unspoken decision.

She made up her mind, fixing John with a pointed look. "No trouble," she repeated firmly, more as a command than a question.

"No trouble," John assured her with a nod of understanding.

Kate wiped her damp arms across her shirt, bidding Mary-Beth farewell and promising to catch up with her later. As she approached her midnight mare, the horse whinnied in recognition, sensing the upcoming adventure. Javier and Lenny greeted her from their saddles, both looking ready for action.

Javier tipped his hat with a charming smile. "Nice of you to join us, cariño," he said, his tone warm and inviting.

Kate swiftly mounted her horse, adjusting herself in the saddle. "You boys better hope this goes smoothly," she remarked with a playful smirk, her eyes scanning the group with a hint of caution.

Lenny rode his stallion closer to Kate's, "I gotta say, having you with us doubles our luck, don't you think?" he replied, his tone light-hearted but with an underlying sense of confidence.

She smiled fondly. Together the four of them took off down the lush green path and onto the dirt road. Kate was glad for the invitation, it made her feel good that the gang trusted her enough to include her in such tasks, that they were confident in her ability to work alongside them. She felt a new sense of trust among them, and camaraderie. She felt like she was becoming a real member, and not just some lone traveler like she had been nearly a month ago. 

The journey to the Braithwaite manor was uneventful, the cool breeze of the afternoon air was refreshing against their skin as they rode. As they arrived at the manor from the south side, away from the prying gaze of the property guards. The grand estate loomed before them, a testament to the family's wealth and power. They dismounted their horses in a secluded spot, ensuring they wouldn't draw too much attention.

Kate's mind wandered briefly, wondering if Penelope would be out in her gazebo enjoying the afternoon sun. 

John's voice interrupted her thoughts, his tone matter-of-fact as he laid out the plan. "Let's keep this nice and easy. No need to rush. We're here on behalf of a buyer, looking to make a significant investment," he explained as they followed him toward the barn.

Outside the stable doors, a worker paused in his tasks, eyeing them with suspicion. "Can I help you fellas?" he asked, his tone wary.

"I hope so," John replied amiably, trying to appear non-threatening. "Heard you got some horses?"

"We always got horses," the man responded gruffly.

"Fine horses, I mean," John clarified.

The worker's expression soured, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the group. "I don't know whatchu’ talkin' 'bout, friend. Why don't you take that hoyden wench, yer greaser buddy, and his darkie friend and get off the property ‘fore I blow your face off," he retorted, spitting at their feet.

Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise at the man's unabashed racism and arrogance toward strangers. Suddenly understanding Tilly’s hesitation about being so far south. Javier quickly raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Whoa, take it easy there, amigo," he interjected, trying to diffuse the tension.

John remained unfazed by the man's hostility. "Come on now, partner. We're just looking to do some business. Inquire about a purchase," he persisted.

The worker let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine, follow me, Scarface," he grumbled, the insults never ceasing.

The ranch hand, ever welcoming, led them into the barn, his voice a steady stream of information about the horses—names, breeds, and abilities. She noticed they were not the purebreds John had heard rumors about. Still beautiful, strong horses nonetheless. 

Kate observed John and Javier exchanging a look as they walked deeper into the dimly lit space. When the man paused to pet a horse, John subtly motioned to Javier, who deftly moved behind the unsuspecting worker. 

Meanwhile, Lenny smoothly interjected with feigned interest. "Wow, look at the balls on that one," he chuckled, pointing in another direction. The ranch hand followed his gaze, oblivious to the danger lurking behind him.

With his back turned, Javier seized the opportunity, drawing his pistol from his belt. "Greaser, huh?" he muttered bitterly before striking the bottom of the iron against the man's head, knocking him out instantly. John and Javier wasted no time, swiftly moving the unconscious body to a hidden spot while Lenny began unlocking the stable gates.

Kate stood in stunned silence for a moment, her voice barely audible as she tried to suppress her surprise. "What happened to nice and easy?" she muttered.

Her comment elicited a chuckle from Lenny, who had already mounted one of the horses. "Can't get any easier than this. Let’s try to get 'em out of here without drawing too much attention," he replied casually.

Despite her swirling thoughts and unease, Kate pushed her concerns aside and mounted one of the horses. Following the three bandits out of the barn, she joined them as they sped off through the sprawling property, the rush of adrenaline mixing with a sense of trepidation.

The thundering hooves of their stolen horses echoed through the property. Behind them, shouts and the pounding of boots indicated that their presence had been discovered. Several ranch hands emerged from the buildings, brandishing rifles and shouting warnings.

John, Kate, Javier, and Lenny spurred their horses into a full gallop, kicking up dust and dirt as they raced across the open fields. The pursuing ranch hands fired off a few rounds in their direction, but the distance and the speed of their mounts made accurate shooting difficult.

As they reached the fence at the edge of the property, they leapt over the barrier. The group plunged into a dense thicket of trees, the branches clawing at their faces and clothes. The sounds of pursuit faded behind them as the guards were forced to slow down and eventually give up the chase. They whistled loudly, and soon their own horses caught up and began to follow in tow. 

Javier led the way as they made their way through the landscape to find the supposed buyers at Clemens Cove. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The encounter with the buyers proved to be an intriguing yet unsettling experience. They were met by a pair of brothers who seemed to operate in uncanny harmony, sometimes speaking in unison and shrouding their business with secrecy. Details about their clientele and operations were kept hidden, with only a vague promise that one of them would be available for future dealings, if they wished to become business partners.

During the negotiation, one of the brothers made a direct offer to purchase Kate’s prized black Hungarian outright, offering her a substantial sum. However, Kate politely declined without hesitation. Her bond with the mare ran deep, and no amount of money could sway her decision to part with her cherished companion.

The brothers’ offer of 50 cents on the dollar for the stolen horses was not quite what John had anticipated, but it still amounted to a respectable deal given the circumstances.

After concluding their business at Clemens Cove, the posse set off back towards the rolling plains. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm and serene glow over the lush green hills. Their horses trotted steadily along the trail as the  landscape unfolded around them, painted in hues of amber and gold, as they made their way back to camp.

"Hoyden wench…" Kate echoed with a chuckle, mimicking the ranch hand's harsh drawl. "I've been called a lot of things, but that sure is a first."

Javier, riding alongside her, piped up from the saddle, his expression puzzled. "What the hell does that mean, anyway?"

Lenny let out an exasperated sigh. " 'Wench' was a term used by slavers for black women. And 'hoyden' means she's too much of a 'tomboy’,'' he explained.

"Well, I can understand the 'tomboy' part, but she's not even—"

"Doesn't matter, amigo," John interjected, his tone matter-of-fact. "If ya skin ain't as white as a baby's bottom, it's all the same to them."

Kate nodded in agreement, her thoughts drifting back to the locals she had observed while running letters with Arthur. Witnessing their prejudice up close and personal was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by Lenny and Tilly in this region. As a woman of Italian descent, her skin carried a honey-brown hue, bronzed by the Lemoyne sun. Even this slight difference posed a threat to the narrow-minded locals, a reality that churned her stomach with discomfort.

"I'm ‘bout ready to get the hell out of dodge," Lenny added, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Speakin’ of racist hillbillies, Javier and I are heading out to Shady Belle. Got a tip there's some raiders sittin’ on guns and ammo. You guys want in?" He turned to John and Kate with a casual invitation.

Kate shook her head, "thanks Lenny, but I think I'll pass this time."

John chimed in with a polite refusal. "As much as I love killing racists, I gotta get back to Abigail for dinner."

Javier and Lenny exchanged nods of understanding. "No worries, compadres," Javier replied. "We'll catch up with you later."

As they bid farewell, Kate and John veered onto the familiar dirt path that led back to Clemens Point. 

The gentle melody of song birds and the steady pounding of hooves on the dry soil filled the atmosphere. Before they could approach the camp, John's voice broke the peaceful ambiance. 

"Hey, I know I sound stupid for saying this, but thank you for being a friend to Abigail. All of this has been really hard on her," he explained, his tone earnest and reflective. He glanced ahead, his thoughts drifting to his woman back at camp. "I know it may not look like it, but I'm trying—I'm working on being the kind of father she wants me to be and the husband she needs."

Kate gave him a sympathetic look, her eyes softening. “You don't sound stupid, John. This life ain’t easy for nobody, especially when there's a child in the mix.” She was slightly surprised to hear him open up to her. 

John sighed, his expression heavy with regret. “Still, I know you and I ain’t all that close, but, I did somethin’ pretty bad. I worry she might never forgive me for it.”

With a sideways glance, Kate nodded reluctantly. “Yeahhh, Abigail already told me ‘bout all that.”

“Shit, she did?” John's eyes widened in surprise.

She couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of mischief in her voice. “Oh yeah, she’s told me everything John.” Abigail didn't babble to Kate just for the sake of gossip; she understood that Abigail needed someone to confide in, someone to listen and truly hear her. She needed to feel seen, heard, and understood. Especially in times like these. 

“Well goddamn, now I feel like a proper dumbass.”

“She still loves you, John, and your boy does too. But love doesn’t come for free—it takes a lot of effort. Keep pushin’ to be a better man, she sees your effort. I promise you.” Kate's words were gentle yet firm,

"Thanks, Kate. Say, you’ve been ridin’ with us for a while now. You think you’re stickin’ ‘round for the long haul?” John asked, his tone curious.

Kate shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “I can’t say for certain. But for now, that’s the plan. Never thought I’d be workin’ with outlaws, but I guess it’s sometimes kinda fun,” she replied, hinting at their recent endeavor. Though petty horse theft was one thing, running from the law for murder was another.

“I noticed you and Arthur get along pretty well. He the reason you're stayin’ put?” John probed further. No doubt trying to get a grasp on his brother's affairs.

“Arthur’s a bit of a mystery to me. But we’re just friends, is all,” Kate answered, her tone casual yet guarded. She knew things between her and Arthur were only just beginning, but it was still undoubtedly complicated. The fact that some of the members had taken notice of their relationship sparked a tinge of worry. 

“You’re a tough woman to read sometimes,” he smirked, the scar on his cheek crinkled slightly. “Well, whatever the case. Take care of yourself, ya hear?” He expressed a genuine smile as he rode ahead back into camp. 

Kate followed behind, the aroma of Pearson’s signature stew filling her lungs with its savory fragrance. She left Lorena to graze peacefully among her own four-legged companions and headed toward the chuck wagon, eager to enjoy a well-earned meal after a day filled with adventure. The camp was alive with the usual sounds—crackling fire, distant chatter, and the occasional whinny of horses—creating a familiar and comforting backdrop to the evening.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

As Arthur returned to camp under the blanket of stars, the world seemed silent except for the faint rustle of night creatures and the distant crackle of a dying fire. He dismounted his mare with practiced quiet, the shadows of night his ally in avoiding unwanted company.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, his frustration palpable in the tight set of his jaw and the weariness etched in his movements. Tonight, he had no patience for idle chatter or bullshit from the guys. Especially the ones awake at this hour.

Burning the tobacco fields with Sean had proven to be no easy task. Though never any job orchestrated by Dutch ever was. It was nights like these where Arthur questioned when all the shooting and robbing would end. What the point of it all was. 

Behind his tent, the open end of the wagon served as a makeshift wall. Arthur rummaged through crates, finding what he needed—a needle, thread, alcohol, and cloth. Wincing as he prodded the bullet graze just under his armpit.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit” he mumbled to himself.

Getting shot had never been part of Arthur's plan on any job. He prided himself on his quick draw and accuracy, always aiming to fire first and hit his mark before danger could strike him. But shooting under cover of night, navigating through a blazing tobacco field while avoiding being burned alive—such challenges could make even the finest gunslinger stumble.

The guards had descended upon them as soon as the smoke rose, but Sean had urged them to press on, insisting they keep pouring the moonshine without hesitation. Arthur couldn't help but worry that the young Irishman's ambition might one day lead him into an early grave.

Surprisingly, the only injury Arthur had sustained was a bullet graze, still needing a few stitches but nothing life-threatening. Meanwhile, Sean had returned unscathed, already regaling their escapade around the campfire with a bottle in hand.

Under the cool night air, Arthur peeled off his sweat-dampened shirt, the chill of the air contrasting sharply with the warmth of his body. The lantern's dim glow cast shadows, highlighting the glistening of sweat on his chest and stomach.

He dipped the cloth into the alcohol, its sharp scent biting into his senses. As he attempted to clean the wound tucked under his arm, frustration crept in. The injury was beyond his line of sight, a challenge exacerbated by his own size.

Placing one arm against the side of the wagon for support, Arthur tried again, unaware of Kate's quiet approach behind him amidst the backdrop of the night's stillness.

“Need some help there, big guy?” Kate's voice was endearing, soft, almost motherly. The tone made Arthur's knees weak and his face grow warm.

Startled, Arthur nearly leapt out of his skin, quickly lowering his arm and stepping back, almost out of the lamplight. The nickname, though used innocently, stirred something akin to shame in his belly.

"What're you doin' up?" Arthur asked, attempting to appear unbothered.

Kate shrugged, her demeanor relaxed. "Couldn’t sleep. I was brushing Lorena when I saw you come in. Figured I’d say hi," she explained. "You want some help with that?" She gestured to where small trickles of blood traced down his side, her eyes lingering slowly over his bare torso.

If it weren’t for the cover of night, Kate would have seen the deep blush that crept up to his ears. "I think I’ll be alright," Arthur managed, his mouth suddenly dry.

Kate took a step closer, her gaze shifting to his shirt hanging from the side of the wagon, a round, deep red stain contrasting against its usual pale blue.

"Well, it sure don't look alright," she noted, her eyes returning to his side. "Tough spot to reach too."

Arthur's breath quickened. "I’m fine, don’t worry 'bout me," he replied, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone.

Kate only brushed him off with a playful wave of her arm, “oh quit it! You stitched me up before, let me return the favor.” Before Arthur could react she placed a gentle hand on his bicep, “here, turn around.” She said quietly.

He complied, turning his back to her. His body froze when her fingers returned with the wet alcohol cloth. Barely noticing the sting, as her hands alone felt like fire against his cold skin. Her warmth is intoxicating. 

A moment's silence embraced them, and Arthur prayed she couldn’t hear the beat of his heart as it raced in his chest.

Her words startled him from his thoughts, “see, ain’t so bad,” her tone soft like she was comforting a child. “Why’d ya hesitate?” A hint of curiosity and concern filled her voice from behind him.  

Arthur lowered his head slightly, “I um, well I know I ain’t much to look at.” He mumbled. 

Kate continued to clean his wound tenderly, “what do you mean by that?” 

He let out a deep sigh, there was no point in being dishonest with her, “I…I just don’t like folk seein’ me without a shirt. I ain’t what I used to be. I’m gettin’ old, gettin’ heavy too.” His hand subconsciously rubbed over his belly. 

Arthur's weight was his biggest insecurity, a constant reminder of his struggles and the pain he carried. Years had passed since Eliza and Isaac's deaths, but part of him had withered away back then. The guilt had gnawed at him, devouring his spirit day by day. He sought solace in alcohol, drowning himself in the numbness it offered. His relationship with food became a twisted dance of indulgence and deprivation.

Some days, he ate to fill the emptiness inside, seeking comfort in the fleeting sensation of fullness. Other days, food seemed an enemy, a symbol of his lack of control. He despised his belly, the way it was soft and curved, a stark contrast to the man he once knew in the mirror. His size served as a relentless reminder of his deepest failure, haunting him with each glance.

Each morning he woke, Arthur grappled with the weight of existence. The world, in its merciless ways, kept him breathing, a living monument to his own remorse. He often wondered if the world would be better off without him, a sentiment that lingered like a dark cloud over his soul.

Kate sensed Arthur's tension, the silent turmoil that echoed beneath the pads of her fingers as she tended to his wound. She felt the subtle movement of his muscles, synchronized with the rise and fall of his breath. "You're a strong man, Arthur. Age and scars don't make you any less handsome," she reassured him with genuine honesty, her voice a soothing balm.

With practiced ease, Kate finished cleaning his wound and reached for the needle and thread. She gently maneuvered his arm to rest on the side of the wagon, adjusting her position for a better angle to begin stitching. Arthur's nerves betrayed him, his hand clenching into a tight fist at his side as he tried to compose himself. His head felt dizzy, as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

"I reckon you're just sayin' that to be kind," Arthur finally admitted, his self-doubt palpable in the air.

Kate chuckled softly, the sound carrying warmth and sincerity. "I've met my fair share of ugly bastards in my lifetime, but believe me, you are certainly not one of them," she assured him, her voice like a gentle flame against his skin. Her words were a rare gift, stirring something deep within him that he had long kept hidden. Arthur closed his eyes briefly, letting her words sink in.

"You're a very handsome cowboy, wrinkles, scars, size and all. I think you're a lovely man," Kate affirmed, her words carrying a sincerity that tugged at Arthur's heart. "Besides, I know I'm not the picturesque woman myself. I'm no stranger to the cruel effects of time and livin' rough. Today, I was even called a ‘hoyden wench’ by some bona fide racist ranch hand," she added with a light laugh, as if brushing off the insult.

Kate had a way of making Arthur feel like they had known each other for a lifetime. Since the day she opened up to him about her life, she had been unapologetically honest with him. It was as if she already knew she could trust him with her personal tragedies.

Hosea's words echoed in Arthur's mind, a comforting reminder of the wisdom his old father figure imparted. Hosea simply wanted happiness for him—not wealth in money, but richness in love. He wanted Arthur to find purpose and meaning in life, to share that journey with another soul.

As Kate's needle deftly worked the thread through his skin, Arthur felt a warmth bloom in his chest. Kate's words eased a heavy burden, if only momentarily. 

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, summoning the courage to speak. “Well, I’ll say this. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lady who can hold her own,” he began, his voice laced with sincerity. “You’ve got a strength and beauty that’s hard to come by. I think it’s pretty admirable.”

Kate giggled softly, the sound sending a warm flutter through Arthur’s chest. “Thanks, Arthur. First time I’ve heard that in a while,” she replied, her eyes meeting his.

Arthur marveled at how he had summoned the courage to kiss her the other night, feeling as if he could barely face her now. Yet, if she leaned in to kiss him at this moment, he knew he would succumb to his desire, despite what he had told her before. She lit a fire in him.

“S’true. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole damn holler,” Arthur said, unable to hide the light chortle that escaped him.

Kate leaned closer, her breath tickling his neck as she whispered, “You have quite a sweet side, Arthur. I adore that about you,” her hand lightly squeezing his arm.

His heart swelled, and Arthur knew this was the moment. He needed to tell her, despite the nerves that threatened to overpower him. Hosea may have been right; she had stayed by his side despite everything. But as he searched for the words, unsure of how to broach the subject, his nerves got the better of him once again. There was never an easy way to say it. Just the memories of them alone felt like acid in his throat. 

Kate took a step back, placing her tools down on the back of the wagon. “I reckon I’m about done stitching this. Try to stay out of the crossfire next time, yeah?” She teased, holding up his bloody shirt with a knowing look as she handed it back to him.

Arthur felt a pang of regret. “Wasn’t my intention to get shot,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. He slipped the shirt over his shoulders, tugging the sleeves down his arms.

“Nobody intends to get shot,” Kate mused, taking a step back to give him space.

Turning to face her, Arthur was struck by the sight of her eyes, a sadness that mirrored his own that evening under the moonlit sky when they kissed. His heart throbbed at the sight. Since the day he met her at Emerald Ranch, she had a welcoming presence that drew him in, along with a deep sorrow that resonated with his own. It was as if she knew him before she even met him.

He looked down, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I appreciate your help, darlin’,” he murmured. Then, letting out a deep breath, he added, “though, I really don’t deserve it.”

Kate brushed off his self-doubt. “Don’t fuss over it, Arthur. I’m here whenever you need a hand,” she assured him. “I think you should get some rest though; from Sean’s stories, it sounds like it’s been a long day.”

Arthur nodded silently, watching as Kate bid him farewell and faded back into the night. His heart silently begged, please don’t go. But she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts under the blanket of stars.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate lay beneath the star-studded sky, her eyes fixed on the milky purple and white swirl above, like celestial clouds in motion. Her heart echoed the rhythm of hooves against her ribs. Thoughts of Arthur filled her mind, his presence vivid in her thoughts.

The image of his body lingered before her, along with the stories he shared about himself. A longing surged within her to reveal how beautiful she found him, to explore him with kisses and her wandering hands.

Patience wavered as a persistent ache in her belly reminded her of the closeness she craved. Intimate moments with Arthur kindled her core, igniting a blaze of desire. Each quiet, vulnerable encounter with him deepened their connection. Funny how his true colors always showed when he was alone with her. 

Kate smiled to herself, feeling a rush of desire she hadn't known for what felt like a century. As good as she was on her own. She felt like life had finally granted her an anecdote to her lonely heart. 

---

AN: Phew, its out there. I know that was pretty dialogue heavy, so I hope I didn't bore you guys. Next chapter is going to be a long one, and may take me awhile. But it will be worth it, I promise!

As always, thanks for all the love!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Him and I

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader

Summary: Daryl and his wife get separated at the fall of the prison but both manage to escape with another member of their crowd. After the reader and Glenn find Abraham and their group, almost after accepting they'll never find the rest of their families, they stumble in to Terminus. Will they be reunited or will the current state of the world impede them once more?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drugs, violence, swearing, mentions of loss, feeling of anxiety/dread.

A/n: This fic is directly based on a request (that tumblr ate) by @bringinsexybackk69! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get back to this, it's honestly just been so hard for me to write things that aren't blurbs and with the lack of TWD content, it's been dry over here. Thank you for your patience, I adore you! This is not entirely canon since my memory is faulty and I can't currently watch TWD so I'm going off of vibes and vague memory.

When we got to the prison, we thought it was going to be the end all, the place we could stay for as long as we chose to live, where we would raise children, form new bonds and relationships, just overall be safe and enjoy life.

But we thought the same thing about the farm and we all know what happened to that dream.

When the prison fell, I assumed that I would never see any of my family again, my closest friends, my husband. I woke up, alone, on the floor of the prison after Daryl shoved me in a cell and told me to stay put. It took nearly an hour for me to fight my way through walkers to get out into the air and that's when I saw the tanks and Hershel.

My heart broke.

When I found Glenn, I had a little bit of hope that we'd find people the longer we looked around the prison but the longer we looked, the less we found and the more dangerous it got. We were trapped and we couldn't wait around for people to show up. So we left.

"Glenn, where would Maggie go? If something happened, where would she go?" I ask Glenn frantically as we walk side by side, gun by gun, down the rural gravel path, my feet kicking frustratedly at stones with every step we take.

"I don't know, Y/n. We never thought we'd ever be away from each other ever again." Glenn is more frustrated than I am, jaw tense and fists clenched at his side. Without us, I'm convinced he wouldn't last, he's so emotional and gets so easily frustrated whereas I am the opposite.

Cool as a cucumber.

Just like Daryl taught me.

Daryl and I met at the farm.

I stumbled, quite literally, upon them with my arm bit and my whole body sore from carrying my own weight at least a mile or two. I'd say that our first impressions were kind and that we fell in love at first sight but it wasn't and we didn't. He, with the assistance of Hershel,  chopped my arm off to prevent the infection from spreading and inevitably saved my life.

We were all shocked to see that it worked.

Daryl would take care of me, bring me things from the forest like little flowers that he claimed to remind him so much of me even though he'd joke that I'm nothing like a flower. He'd bring me food while I was resting in bed, he'd offer to take me on walks- overall, he was an angel and it was hard not to fall in love with him.

He'd tell you that he fell in love with me when I nearly fell in the well three weeks after my amputation.

Don't ask.

We were inseparable from then on in. He was my right hand man (pun so much intended) and he taught me everything I needed to know. I learned how to hunt with one hand, cook, skin animals, fend for myself because he always wanted me to feel and be capable if anything were to ever happen to him.

He's the most selfless, kind hearted, protective man I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.

When the farm was overtaken by walkers and we had to run, it was the first thing to really test mine and Daryl's relationship but also to test my lack of two arms. It was difficult for me to keep up and it was even more frustrating for Daryl to take care of me while saving the asses of everyone else.

"Are you good?" Daryl asks me, spinning around on his bike to look back at me with a worried expression, brows tugged firmly together in fear. He checks me out once, doing a once over to make sure I'm a-okay and when I nod, he loosens up a bit.

"I'm okay. Just a little spooked." I'm trembling like a leaf against him and he finally steps off his bike and moves to wrap his arms around me without another word.

He holds me tightly to his chest, cradling my head as softly as he can as tears flow freely from my eyes, my arm aching in a phantom pain from all the stress of wishing I was more capable, wishing Daryl didn't need to take care of and comfort me all the time.

"I got you, okay? I'm here."

When we found the rest of the group and found the prison, it was like we were drawn to it. We had to clear it out, we had to make it our own, make it safe. We had a baby on the way, Lori was nearly due and with the loss of a few of our people, we needed to regroup and have a place where we could just be.

But it fell, it went to hell, like everywhere else had since the world fell.

When we Glenn and I escaped, it wasn't exactly a match made in Heaven. We weren't the most compatible to work together, always bickering and fighting over the stupidest shit and ruining plans, just like siblings.

But after days and days of walking and arguing, we found Abraham and it was as if everything just got better. It was no longer the two of us and, after all those years of not seeing him, it was strangely nice to be reunited with him on the road.

"Abe?" The ginger's head snaps around at my voice, turning away from his two friends with wide eyes, gaze locking on mine as I grin ridiculously, my feet carrying me towards him without another word.

"Well holy shit, where did you come from?" He chuckles heartily and I feel tears springing behind the lids of my eyes. "I missed you, kid."

Abraham and I were stationed together in the Middle East for too long, learning the ins and outs of each other and becoming true best friends. When we went home, we kept in touch but when the world fell, we became a background thought in each other's minds.

So the fact that we found each other, a state away from where we grew up, it's still remarkable to this day.

Glenn and I felt better once we were with a group of people, especially since we were genuinely going to kill each other had we been stuck, just the two of us, for any longer. It was nice to meet Rosita and get to know her interesting relationship with my old friend, their oddly sexual relationship keeping the rest of us up in the middle of the night.

It made me miss Daryl, meeting all these new people- I had no one to judge people with. Glenn was no fun and always played devil's advocate and Abraham was who I wanted to judge. Daryl would've gladly sat with me and made me laugh while pointing out Rosita and Abraham's obnoxious issues with PDA or making fun of Eugene's mannerisms and nerves around Rosita.

It was alienating, how much I missed him.

My other half.

"Glenn, I don't know why you think Maggie would go to some random, probably overran 'survivalist' camp. But I think we have a better bet just wandering around looking for them." Abraham looks at me with a funny look, reaching out to shove at my shoulder as an attempt to get me to lay off Glenn but I just shake my head. I lean over Glenn's shoulder, looking at the ominous note that 'Maggie' left him and I can see the hope written on Glenn's face.

"I just have a feeling, you have to go with me on this." Glenn spins around on his heels, holding the note up in his hands with a stern, hopeful smile. "She left me a damn note, Y/n." I look back at Abraham, Rosita and Eugene and they all give me a simple shrug which forces a complaint sigh out of me.

"What you say goes."

Terminus obviously was not what we thought it was, tossed into train cars like animals and expected to turn over our weapons. Abraham called bullshit first, not daring to turn in his weapon before asking a few more questions but it was those few more questions that got us thrown into our makeshift jail in the first place.

I had accepted at that point that I would never see him ever again, that Daryl and I would never be reunited and never spend the rest of our lives together like we so desperately wanted to. 

But when he stumbled into the train car two days later to my surprise, eyes falling on me and arms immediately tossing around me, it was shocking. I didn’t even think that he was real, the way his arms felt around me, after days of not having him near me- it was an out of body experience. 

“Are you really here?” I ask, tucking my face in the crook of his neck, gripping onto the back of his shirt as if he’ll vanish from my grasp if I let him go even the slightest bit. He clings to me the same, hoisting me up into the air as I spot Abraham watching us with a proud smile on his lips that makes my stomach flutter with happy butterflies.

“I’m really here.” He whispers, rubbing my back soothingly as he sets me back down onto the floor, looking down at me with kind, protective eyes. “Fuck, I missed you.” His hands reach up, cupping my cheeks in his hands, ignoring the looks that everyone else in the car is giving us. “Where have you been?” He asks, finally taking a look around at the people around us with a relieved breath.

“With Glenn.” I huff, seeing Glenn, who has his arm around a relieved Maggie, sends me the finger from across the trai car.

“I’m so sorry.” Daryl mutters with a laugh, wrapping his arms around me again, tugging me to his chest with the plan of never letting me go.

“Never leave me alone again.” 

"What're you thinkin' about?" Daryl’s voice snaps me out of my memories, my head turning to look at him as he sets a hand on my shoulder, a soft smile on his lips. "I can see the smoke comin' out of your ears." He teases with a wink, sitting down beside me on the log that I’ve plopped on and I lean into him, letting him wrap an arm around my shoulders. 

"Thinking about when the prison fell. When we were apart."

"Why the hell're you thinking about that?" He asks, brows furrowing and a look of worry passes across his expression as he tugs me back into him, clinging to me once more just like the day that he found me. "Worst days of my life."

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[klbwriting]

Broken Prism

Chapter 23

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: not much, some violence

Summary: a question is asked and there's a party, but it's not all happiness and sunshine

Notes: this fic had a heavy couple chapters, so this is a little lighter and sweet, but of course it won't stay that way, they are still in Gotham and mass murders are on the loose

Jason got back to find YN asleep already, looking exhausted. She had her clothes on from the day, over the blankets like she had just laid down, thinking she would be back up again. He sighed, not able to get the look in her eyes when he snapped at her out of his head. He had scared her; how could he do that to her? The one person who was always on his side, always supporting him no matter how much of an ass he was? Did the good in him really outweigh all the bad? He sighed, moving to shower and change into fresh clothes, going to grab a book from his shelf when he noticed the desk. He froze. She had found the note and the ring. He swallowed hard as he walked over to check on them. His scratched-out lines, followed by the only one that seemed right, and then…YES. She had written yes on the note. His eyes found her, still sleeping and he wanted to let her rest, but he couldn’t, not when he had to be sure. He moved to the bed, sitting next to her and gently shaking her shoulder. She stirred and looked around, still groggy, but woke up when she saw him.

“Jason!” she said, arms going around him. He held her close, once again drinking in the calm she brought him. When she pulled back she didn’t completely let him go, like she was worried if she did he would run away again. He had to stop that, stop pushing her away, running from her when she refused to leave him be. He held up the note and she looked from it to his eyes.

“Why would you say yes to me?” he asked softly. She touched his face, tracing the scar on his cheek he’d gotten when Penguin had captured him. All those scars, memories of pain that her touch seemed to soothe away. Even now, the murders, the guilt he felt, the fact that multiple people were going around Gotham trying to break his family apart, and she was still here, unmoving in her love for him. It honestly humbled him more than even being dead had.

“Because I know that even if you weren’t my soulmate you would still be my soulmate,” she said. “I fit with you, and you fit with me. I’m willing and want to choose to love you everyday for the rest of my life.” He swallowed hard, feeling emotions he hated to feel coming to the surface. He felt loved, really loved. She chose him, when she could literally have anyone else, someone safer, someone who wouldn’t scare her or worry her constantly and she chose him.

“I scared you earlier…” he whispered. “Why love someone who scares you?” She kissed him softly.

“I wasn’t scared of you Jason, I’ve never been afraid of you, but I was afraid for you,” she said. “Afraid of you running, of your self-loathing getting the best of you.” He looked at the ring in his hand and then at her, holding it up slowly. YN nodded, smile growing on her face. He slid the ruby on and kissed her hand before kissing her again. She kissed him back, gripping him close and pulling him to lay over her. “Should we go tell everyone?” she asked. Jason shook his head.

“Later,” he said, before kissing her again.

You woke up the next morning, still naked and next to your fiancé. O you were never going to get over that. Jason wanted to marry you. You knew it was common for soulmates to get married, but this just felt special, like it wasn’t supposed to actually happen. Yet the ring was on your finger and his arm was around your waist, holding you against him like he protected you even in his sleep, which honestly, he probably could. You pulled off his arm slowly and went to shower and get dressed. You hadn’t really eaten the day before, too worried about where he had been, and headed quietly downstairs. It was still early but somehow Alfred was still awake and had the buffet of breakfast foods ready in the dining room. He himself was eating, reading the paper. He jumped up when you came in and you waved him away, moving to grab a plate but he caught your hand.

“I see Master Jason has finally popped the question,” he said, admiring the ring. You smiled wide and nodded. “Did he tell you how long ago he bought that ring?”

“No, we didn’t really talk a lot after,” you said, before blushing and turning away to get food. He cleared his throat and waited until you were seated with your breakfast.

“He came home one morning, I believe it was before you had moved in here, he came to me and asked if I could size a ring based off a picture, and he showed me a picture, I believe you were holding a book, and I’m glad to see it worked,” he said. You thought back and realized that when he came to your apartment, when you fell asleep reading. Before you kissed, before you were even really together. He had been planning this since then and it made your heart warm. You looked at the ring again and smiled bigger.

Jason wandered into the room, looking between you and Alfred before grabbing himself some breakfast and sitting next to you. He kissed you and finally noticed Alfred staring at him.

“What?” he asked. Alfred held up his coffee cup but didn’t say anything, going back to the paper. You looked at Jason, probably with the biggest heart eyes imaginable because soon he was kissing you again just in time for Tim and Dick to wander in with Bruce close behind them.

“Ugh…we eat here could you not?” Tim mocked, getting himself breakfast. You laughed and started eating yourself. Jason ate, one hand holding your hand, gently running a finger over the ring on your finger. It took Bruce all of two seconds to notice.

“Guess we’re throwing another party,” he said. Jason stared for a second. “Can’t have a Wayne get engaged and not have a party.” Tim and Dick froze, looking to each other as if trying to figure out who was engaged before looking at Jason’s face, then his hand, then the ring.

“Holy shit,” Dick said. “He dies and still gets married first, how is that possible?” he said. Jason shrugged.

“Maybe stop dragging your feet with Barbara,” he said, eating more eggs. You laughed and then laughed harder when Dick and Tim both hugged you, forcing you to stand so they could hug you tighter.

“He is so much less annoying when you’re around, now you can’t leave,” Tim said. You shook your head and laughed as Jason finally pried his brothers off you and instead hugged you himself. “Although now this’ll get annoying.”

Another Wayne party was not what Jason wanted but since it was his engagement Bruce had let him decide who could actually come so he made sure it was small, just some friends of Bruce’s and YN’s friends, less than twenty people which was tiny in the Wayne family. He did not however, let Jason dress in jeans like he wanted, mostly because YN had picked out an absolutely stunning dress and he knew Jason would feel terrible not to be dressed up right beside her. He was right. When she came out into the hall in that red dress Jason nearly took her back into the bedroom again, but Bruce said he had an engagement present but only if Jason wasn’t late this time. And YN wanted that gift, what would Batman give as an engagement gift? Bullet proof plates? Cutlery that was also a bomb? So, Jason took her arm, kissed her softly and headed downstairs.

The evening was winding down, most of Bruce’s friends had left while the younger crowd was still in the theater room doing karaoke, trying to convince Alfred to just do one song. Jason was in the doorway, thoroughly not interested in singing, but enjoying watching YN laugh with the others. He heard a throat clear behind him and looked back to Bruce.

“You were on time and even were a good host tonight,” he said, slightly surprised.

“YN really wants that gift, she thinks it's an EMP disguised as a handbag,” Jason said, sipping his drink as Dick started singing Taylor Swift off key, much to the delight of Barbara and to Tim’s horror. Bruce chuckled a little and caught YN’s eye, waving for her to join them. She did, hugging Jason around his waist. He kissed her head as Bruce handed him an envelope. He frowned, opening it to a picture of a nice cabin in a forest.

“This is a cabin in Canada, and I have bought it for you,” he said. Jason looked confused. “I’m not exiling you, don’t worry, but whenever we catch whoever is committing these murders you are required to take a vacation, completely unplugged in this cabin for at least six months, plan the wedding, hell, get married there in the middle of nowhere, just be together and be happy without worrying about all this shit here.” Jason couldn’t believe it. He looked at Bruce.

“Dad?” he said. He couldn’t remember the last time he called Bruce dad, but he didn’t know what else to say. Bruce just smiled and hugged his son and then his future daughter, who was definitely crying.

“Thank you,” she said. Jason looked down at her, then back at the cabin. Just them, time for Jason to heal from what he knew was going to be a haunting experience when they did piece more of this mystery together. Bruce waved them away, getting a little misty himself. They went back to the party and were probably more loving than before, being just disgustingly cute for the rest of the evening.

Barbara Gordon had no fear of Gotham at night. Dick was always around to protect her, but she of course, could protect herself too. Just because she wasn’t able to be Batgirl anymore didn’t mean Oracle wasn’t a bad ass. Dick dropped her off at her apartment before heading out on patrol and she entered her first-floor space knowing something was off. She activated her chair, pulling the circuit crown on her head, and pulled out the batons she kept in the arms of the chair. Then she told the chair to move, and it did, searching the place. She didn’t find anything and almost calmed when she heard it, a quick breath behind her. She narrowed her eyes and turned, narrowly avoiding the syringe the person wielded. She stared at the creature before her, a man with a pig’s mask, heavily damaged, eyes of red. He looked like Professor Pyg, but that was impossible, Pyg had died in an attempted escape from Arkham years ago. A copycat then. He man dove at her again and she knocked the syringe away with one baton, the other coming right after to hit the attacker in the head. He was unperturbed and tried again, this grabbing her wheelchair. That was a mistake. The electric shock that her chair emitted when activated was strong enough to take down Killer Croc, even if this person ignored the pain of the baton, his body wouldn’t be able to handle the volts. He fell to the ground, and she hit the panic button to call reinforcements. Then she saw the bag on the floor nearby, blood seeping from it.

[katyspersonal]

You've heard of me getting gradually Ironkinged after a dream sequence of taking a bite of Gwyn's soul, now get ready for Miquella dream adventures getting out of hand.. 🤦‍♂️

I've had an interesting dream, of a similar nature, where I was seeing some of combination of the beautiful world full of light the character created and reflection of inner processes maybe. Miquella's world had a much more gentle light though, not burning sunlight. Very pretty buildings, everyone petting rabbits and baking cookies, the sweetness and naivety of it all.. And I saw various people who were enemies being friends now. I recognized some from irl that were fighting all the time, and youtubers that were harassed by their ex also youtuber friend forgiving her and playing videogames together. I started to go deeper seeing some people I knew online, even mutuals (looking either like their personas or toned-down characters I associate them with XD). Everyone were just napping or preparing next fun activity..

And at some point Miquella saught me and told me that he had a gift for me too. He said that all people I've hurt were happy now and people who meant me harm calmed down and many even wanted to be friends now.... That almost made me cry, but I felt a bit uneasy and refused to go meet them. I felt like I had to escape, even if I forgot why... Like it was all too good to be true. He just told me it was okay to need time, but I could see it in his face that he went on guard. And as I delved deeper into dream I saw it was true, as some places got fences before them and some doors got blocked, like to restrict my way. But I had a very clear thought: "I didn't die (by committing suicide) after everything they've done to me, and so now I will make the whole world suffer (for the mistake of letting me live)". And then "this is not how it should end, only if they pay I will be happy and if he wants to help he must know this" (fuckin Hornsent moment lmao ffhygfjhhf)

Basically, I've chose violence, and I tried to fix my ear to telepathically hear people's "true" thoughts, under enchantment. It was surprisingly hard to detect any hatred towards me, but I've heard something like "I don't believe in her anymore and keeping my emotional distance" and chased it. It was someone who used to be of very positive opinion about my personality before they indeed stepped away. I knew I needed to harm them, but... there were no fucking weapons in this whole place. At all. I tried to search for a blade and getting annoyed "with that saccharine plush world of blooming flowers and kissing bunnies" (my words from the dream). However, I caught that person cooking sweets for everyone to come enjoy them later.... and cutting them with a kitchen knife worked. The world roared, yellow light filter over it scattered, and I woke up.

________

Honestly, "Hornsent moment" might be not even a joke because I did sorta feel like projecting onto him strongly just before sleep. But also, in general, recently I've been scared. I am so scared all the time. I've been noticing that I've been sorta healing on multiple levels. Happier, rediscovering self and things I used to love. And I am so scared that I'll become a part of this world. Misery became my God that guides me and I heard it for a while, that keeps me separated from the world and keeps me fixed on remembering my true purpose and nature of things. Mostly associated with sea and darkness. I don't seek light of heaven or fires of hell, but the dark space between them. Yet when I am happier or healthier.. I stop hearing it. The signal has been weaker, and I am terrified to forget it. I barely dealt with Man in the Mirror vanishing, but now.. i am scared nonstop that my misery, hatred, anger, grudge and pain will be taken away from me. What will be left? I don't want to be rebuilt like Theseus Ship.

I've been waiting for a sign like another no-good agent of chaos I'd follow to cause rifts. Heck, HIM returning into this fandom would've been enough. Sometimes I want to crawl back to him despite all he's done, because he feels like the key to not get swallowed by this world. To hate and thus keep myself safe. Or maybe a new person hellbent on deleting me from this world would be great.. I start to hate them for allowing me to catch them. Maybe had I not exposed them to protect myself and my friends, the voice of my horrifying God of dark and water would still be so.. so, so loud.

And for now all I can say is that this kid is getting on my nerves, and pray that I can regain my focus. I pray that it will show up to me and not let me burn or bloom. I can only wait now, I've became too weak to cause chaos.. maybe this is why it believes I am not worthy of keeping anymore. I am thinking and waiting all the time, to not lose touch with misery.

[anika-ann]

EHHH THERE'S AN ASK GAME GOING ON? Hi Anika <3 (you probably know which pair i'm going to ask but Imma ask anywayy >:D C - Crying// U - Underwear // Z - Zones = for my beloved couple Attached Professor!Rogers and Reader <333

Oh Jam! I have no idea which pairing you were going to choose! (affectionate, so so affectionate 💕 can't believe you still love them🥺)

I also see you woke up today and chose violence. Professor Rogers approves.

Alright. Here goes. Answers to this ask game under cut (cause year, sorry, 18+ , very)

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Our dear prof loves having fun with you, loves to tease and edge you, all smirks and smugness, but crying is a no-no for him. He had seen your tears before and they are associated with so much pain, yours and his, that making you cry is simply not on him mind.

The stupid poem slander after you started dating. Your father's harsh judgement. His own struggles after getting shot and telling you to just lose the ring if that was what you wanted. Just no.

He had taken the edging too far once, actually making you cry as you begged him and the way his body physically recoiled at the pain in his gut, the absolute dread and despise he felt was everything but a turn-on. He was the sweetest afterwards, a profoundly loving aftercare, even as you hadn't used your safeword and he most certainyl did not judge you; however he did cackle a little when you felt better about half an hour later and shyly asked him if he could finish what he started and get you off. He very much did.

He got extremely cautious after that; a blessing and curse, because he became the king of edging. He knows exactly how far he can push, he absolutely revels in hearing you beg and mewl sweetly; and to his shock, he found out he very much does enjoy the tears if they come after, just a few of them rolling out at how intense the release gets, how sweetly the relief tastes. He needs to be cautious to use his mouth or hands or toys to do that; if he was inside he, he'd lose it at the sight alone🤭✨

As for if he ever cried, it was once. After the incident with the ring and your reconcilliation, it hit him a few days after, when you made love again - that he really almost pushed you over the edge and lost you. He comes and the emotions just crush him; you hold him through it, tajen aback, but as gentle as you know he would be to you, your heart quiverring as much as his lips do for a few moments.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Steve is a simple guy; you kiss him, a little deeper than usual, and he knows what you want and he's happy to hop on that train of thought. You rake your nails over his thighs - it doesn't even have to be the insight of his thighs - and he's getting putty in your hands. Expect for one part that's growing very hard. Speaking of hard parts, there isn't any more direct message than brshing your fingers right there, right? He is not immune.

He is even less immune when you climb up his lap and kiss his just about anywhere.

One zone that surprised you and actually took you a rather long time to figure out was his forearms. You genuinely didn't realize - it is most definitely a turn on for you when he rolls up his sleeves and shows off his hands and forearms and you just like running your fingers over it. You know he knows that a peek of his forearms, especially when framed by those sleeves, drives you wild, but what you didn't realize was that it was invitation for you to touch him and drive him just as crazy.

Once you know, you take advantage, alright 😌

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?)

Well you can be sure he has a thing for stockings and he doesn't scoff at other lingerie either.; but taht doesn't mean he cannot appreciate simple. Just because you look extremely tempting to him in lingerie, it doesn't mean he's mainyl interested in what's under 😏

As for his own underwear, he's simple guy. Boxers, usually in plain colour, no crazy patterns except for three pairs of Christmas ones you bought him. He can simp, alright; it just made you so happy and you bought matching pairs of panties and it made him smile whenever he saw it on you. And you'd better believe he loves to match, tying yourself to you, even if you two are the only ones to know.

He had lost a silly bet to you once, resulting him having to wear the stupidiest most ridiculous pair of boxers on a day when he went to the gym and had to change in front of a few guys he knew. He was not amused (he was, a little, but don't tell anyone) - he however enjoyed taking his revenge.

What revenge, you ask? Well. If he's going in stupid boxers, than you're going commando to a dinenr with him with a skirt that barely reached just above your knees after he had played with you, teased you and left you soaking and unsatisfied. You could tell he was extremely cautious to make sure you considered it risqué but agreed to do it for the adventure though, because he's a little shit, but not a dick, definitely not to you.

He teased you all night too, even if with less direct touches; he was dlighted to see you still soaking once you got home, all happy to check for that with your back pressed to the door the second they closed behind. Check with his fingers and mouth. He cleaned every. Damn. Drop. And of course, rewarded you for being so so good for him🫠🫠

Hope you're happy with the answers, dear 🥰 Thank you so much for participating💕

[yakuzabrainrotlive]

Started the game and.... ÖAKZJFLALXKSNN. The devs woke up and chose immediate emotional violence. Played up until the part we met The Baby™

I think I'm gonna play on Hard difficulty for the first time. Might get my ass kicked, but I've done okay on Normal all the other games.

Just plot stuff, gonna make a separate post for QOL, UI and random side content stuff!

Literally said "OH NO, OH NO" out loud when I saw this title screen. I can tell this game is gonna obliterate me emotionally.

That light in his eyes? That smile? The soft tone of voice? THAT'S PURE AND UNCONDITONAL LOVE. HE'S SO FULL OF LOVE!!! I LOVE HIM 😭❤️

*remembers this is a yakuza game* Oh dear. Oh lord. Oh shit. PLEASE NO!! LET HIM HAVE THIS PLEASE!! 😭 COME ON RGG PLEASE DON'T... 😭😭

Haruto is.... it's truly one of the names of all time. Not gonna comment on that any more.

Saejima going back in the slammer is kinda becoming a series staple. Y'know, like... The Tojo clan is in peril, Date appears in a helicopter, there's an awful vehicle-related chase sequence and now there's also Saejima getting locked up. Classics.

I.... KEJDKQJSKWK THIS MAN DRIVES ME INSANE. It's always about "taking responsibility", making sacrifices for others so he doesn't "ruin things" or blaming himself for things that have been out of his control.

It makes me so sad that he loathes himself so much for choices he made when he was young. Even though, back in his full-time yakuza days, he was still a pretty damn decent person and he was always trying to stick to the right path.

He's so kind, considerate and loving and I HATE that he doesn't see it. He's always thinking "I could have", "I should have", "I can't"... the anger he has towards himself is. It sure is something. Does he have his flaws? Yes. Is he a saint? No. But he's not even remotely as bad as he thinks.

THREE YEARS??? For those crimes?? RIDICULOUS. Holy shit.

*sarcastic tone of voice* OH JEEZ. I WONDER WHERE SHE COULD HAVE ADOPTED THIS KIND OF SELF-SACRIFICING, SELF-BLAMING ATTITUDE FROM!!

*deadpan stare at Kiryu*

Okay okay, that was a very hyperbolic statement. Let's not be unfair. This kind of attitude can just be a thing that's a part of someone's personality.

But... I refuse to deny the fact that Kiryu has been Haruka's main parental figure from a very young age. She's grown up witnessing and living through the consequences of Kiryu's self-sacrificial tendencies (fresh example: the talk at the beach in Y5 before he leaves Morning Glory).

Kids tend to internalize attitudes, coping mechanisms and behaviors from their parents, especially when they're so close. Haruka thinks Kiryu is a very good person, she admires him. Of course she'd unconsciously wanna be like him in some regard.

Now, this can also just be a thing that very empathic and selfless people would do (and Haruka is both), but... I don't know. This is basically exactly the thing Kiryu did in Y5.

I'm making sounds that resemble sounds that a wounded animal would make. He looked so at peace and so HAPPY for just that single moment. His home is here. This is where he feels he can belong. Be himself. I'm. Ough.

SIGH he's not gonna be back, is he. He's currently in Hiroshima. God damnit. Why must these games hurt me so- NO. WHY MUST THESE GAMES HURT HIM SO. I'm in agony. Just... let him be a silly-print-shirt-wearing dad. Please. RGG. I am ON MY KNEES. I will give you all my earthly possessions.

Kiryu: I'm just here to find Haruka, let's not get involved in this mess...

Also Kiryu:

Okay, to be fair, it was something he had to do to get a clue on Haruka, but 😭😭 come on!!

Also... can't believe Akiyama is the one being targeted by the LA Gangs (AKA the triads) now... Chat, this is so sad. Can we hit one like for Akiyamer.

But for real: I'm actually kinda shook that things are THIS bad. Yeah, Tojo is always in a crisis of some sort. But... their very position as the top dogs in Kamuro not being shaken up? That's a big YIKES moment.

Majima AND Daigo are in prison?? Jeez, is there anyone competent even left in the clan? This whole group is gonna implode. It's gonna be a dumpsterfire.

Also. I WANNA SEE MAJIMA AND DAIGO WITH PRISON BUZZCUTS. PLEASE. DAIGO ESPECIALLY. PRETTY PLEASE😭🙏🏻

MORE YEARS IN THE JOINT MADE YOU A FUCKING GRANDPA

I swear on my entire bloodline that I'm not capping here; I was planning on making a "HARUKA TEEN PREGNANCY ARC" prediction in my previous post, but decided not to. Apollo... for god's sake.

Okay, I do have... OPINIONS.

-I will NOT fully believe this is Haruka's biological child until the young woman herself or a DNA test confirms it.

-I currently think she might have picked up the baby somewhere and took him in. If I HAD to guess.... MAYBE during the Little Asia fire? I'm not even sure if she was in Kamurocho back then, but... there could have been many casualties, including someone(s) who had a baby.

-If this IS her baby... I'm gonna quote Kiryu here; WHO IS THE DAD??

-Haruka naming her son Haruto is kinda funny to me. Kinda like an Erica naming her child Eric. Very small difference. If that's what she likes for him, that's good! I just can't imagine naming my own child like that. Then again, I wanna check if the kanji are the same.

-I don't wanna spoil myself by accident by googling him, but... Haruto seems to be around... 5-12 months old here?? At least younger than 2 years old since he didn't really seem to use any words yet.

>So Haruka would have been, uhhh.... like 17-18(??) while giving birth, if my guesses on both their ages match up. It's not unheard of - not at all - but that's QUITE young. Especially if the dad wasn't/isn't around to help. Idk how to feel about that. I need more info.

For now, I'm going with the theory that this is not her biological child. For my own peace of mind.

[scoonsalicious]

I love how you woke up one day and chose violence. Unwanted is causing me emotional distress but I can not stop re reading chapters and screaming I love how you write too and just aaaaaaaa. Each chapter im like it can’t get any worse but then it does 😭😭 can’t wait to see how this ends I hope you have a wonderful day, you’re absolutely amazing!!

DEAR GOD, PLEASE PUT THIS ON MY TOMBSTONE.

[pokelolmc]

Fixing TUE Part 2.5--How I'd change Dan's story.

This is my take on Dan's narrative as "Danny's evil future self" in my analysis of The Ultimate Enemy. You can find part two here:

(Part 2), Part 2.5, (Part 3)

The episode tried to play the "alternate timeline evil self" straight, but turning Dan into a Danny and Vlad fusion causes it to veer off the "Dan is Danny turned evil" mark and contradict the episode's previous setup.

I'll admit, I got a bit negative in the last post, so it's a good thing this is more about ideas for improvements.

The obvious choice is either: make Dan literally just Danny/Phantom as an adult, turned evil (to play into the original narrative) or keep the fusion aspect and subvert the narrative.

So, while it'd make for a much more straightfoward/correct "villain self" story if Dan really was just if "Danny woke up and chose violence", I think I'd stick with the fusion aspect. Because that leaves so many interesting questions to explore about identity and moral responsibility--and it'd create an interesting twist on the typical "alternative villain self" trope.

Let's say that the new version of the episode follows a similar portrayal of Dan to canon initially--"Dan is Danny's evil future self", "Danny is going to become Dan" (without Clockwork's commentary, since he knows better)--and Danny agonises over it (after he actually makes legitimate moral mistakes in the episode and feels guilty about it, like actively abusing his ghost powers to cheat the CAT).

Then he finds out how Dan was actually created, and it's treated like a plot twist. The final act reveals that Dan is a fusion of two ghost halves, and Danny's not responsible for Dan in the same way he thought he was. Alternate!Phantom is still a part of Dan, but Dan and Danny's dynamic is different now.

In-universe, maybe the reason Dan only identifies as Danny is he didn’t want to remember the truth of his creation, and went into complete denial. The fact that he was born from Danny and Vlad's deep grief/loss/loneliness/emotional pain was too much for him to confront. It was one massive, overwhelming, toxic concoction. So, he decided he’d rather forget it. Since Vlad’s human half was still alive somewhere and could meet him again (reminding him of his fusion nature), his mind could’ve chosen to disconnect from the Plasmius component of his identity.

Instead, he deluded himself into believing that he was just a Danny who turned evil after he lost his loved ones and “purified” himself of his painful human half, since Danny’s identity was the most convenient to appropriate (with his human half being dead,  and all) and the fusion woke up with Danny's logo.

Ironically, he didn’t actually lose his painful emotions. The halfa-splitting sorted deep emotional pain into the two ghost halves—based on the mental states/desires of the halfas when the separations occurred (eg., Danny’s desire to remove his pain). Rather than “ridding himself of emotions”, he became that negativity/pain incarnate, and it came out in the most destructive and monstrous way possible. After all, anger and wrath can come from a defence/vent for unacknowledged pain.

When Danny learns of Dan's backstory, he has to take a step back to process it all. He knows that Alternate!Vlad's too weak to kill him, even with the Ghost Gauntlets, so he reluctantly trusts his nemesis(...?) and makes a deal--if Vlad knows anything that could be used to stop Dan, give it over to Danny and he can go after Dan himself to undo everything in the past. No fight for the sake of a cutaway gag, here--we get some relationship development (on Danny's end, at least).

Vlad reluctantly agrees (he believes there's no way Danny can win, but he doesn't have much else of a choice--he's backed into a corner, and just thinks "What the hell? I've got nothing...")...and that triggers him to admit what happened ten years ago. Then he gives Danny the Ghost Gauntlets willingly and gets all serious:

"...Daniel?"

"...Yeah?"

"You have to promise me one thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just swear it!"

"O-okay, okay! Jeez! I swear. Happy?"

Vlad looks down pensively before his sunken, hollow eyes bury into Danny's with alarming clarity.

"If you fail...NEVER go to me. Leave Amity Park, move to another country, hide in the Ghost Zone...I don't care. Just...stay away from me, at all costs. If I chase you, run. Run like the world depends on it."

For someone who's never seen Vlad want nothing to do with him before...acting more like Danny's response to Vlad's advances in the past...it's bizarre. It prompts him to question what's really going on in Vlad's head in his own timeline, and what if there's something still in him like this?

So Dan's backstory actually affects the plot, and plays a role in the climax of the episode. And even though he doesn't show up in person, we address Vlad's responsibility in Dan's creation and he gets to contibute, willingly and meaningfully--by providing Danny with Dan's backstory (not just the Ghost Gauntlets Danny stole from him in combat).

It could come into play as a psychological weapon, to shatter Dan's denial— “I’m not you, Dan…I CREATED you!”, “You’re not me, you were MY MISTAKE!”, causing Dan to have a third-act breakdown (technically not main!Danny's mistake, since he's not Alternate!Danny, but he's putting it in the words Dan used in order to correct him). Then the Ghostly Wail can finish him off...or maybe he's strong enough that the Ghostly Wail doesn't end him, and it's the shock of the revelation that immobilises him enough for Danny to get him into the thermos.

[king-aridam]

⚠️TW: RA mentions, SA mentions, a shit ton of religious and violent imagery⚠️

MY HEARTBEAT, A WAR DRUM

“If I find your soul do you want it? // I see it everywhere, past the death visage. // If I find your soul do you want it? Do you even know? // Do you even know what part of you you are?” –”From in the Pines” by Alice Notley

Drum beats thrumming in my head.

I watch, a sinner.

My legs are not long enough in this body.

Guilt serpentined ‘round my neck like the Serpent of Eden,

Tasting burning crimson and violent jade upon my tongue.

I know what I’m to witness.

I know I cannot stop it.

Suffocation via the Devil.

Flashes of memory, of feeling

Things I locked away so long ago.

I struggle to cry tears relating to my experiences, and when I do,

I wonder which me they belong to.

These forbidden vaults have cracked open, I can’t fix this nightmare.

I feel possessed,

Beats thrumming harder,

In time with my heartbeat.

My childhood bedroom was the first grave I woke up in,

and at 3:33 in the morning on the pulpit floor I became God.

To be a Daughter made of this cursed flesh is a humiliation,

shame flocks to me like flies to rotting meat.

Saccharine honeycomb gripped in my teeth,

Swallowing pomegranate seeds,

Entrapping my soul upon that wretched floor, upon that wretched cross.

More flashes of memory.

Golden crucifix, white teeth bared in a grin.

I asked God to give me strength, and He turned his gaze away from me.

Instead I stared down the burning red eyes

and felt myself get fucked into the floor,

all blood, no tears, never a word from my honey stained lips.

I care not for God, because he cares not for me,

and so I became Him.

Beats thrumming in my head like war drums.

I watch him and he watches me.

I think he knows I’m not her.

I turn off the emotions. Lock them away.

I feel nothing when I look at them.

Past tense.

Now I can’t stop feeling and it’s eating away at my sanity.

Self-cannibalism.

Blood soaks through my claws, guts drip from my jaws,

I stare into the face of the Devil and I’m trying to turn it off.

I can’t turn it off.

Everybody wants a taste,

One by one,

Of the god-bled glow,

The righteous purity you preach,

God, I’m going to be sick.

Was it good for you?

Was my performance adequate?

The Devil taking a blade to the Lamb’s vile throat.

This grief and suffering has torn me open,

this rage, a hemophilia.

I bleed and bleed and bleed.

It’s not poetic anymore. It’s just violence.

It’s just red. It’s just pain.

He attached these heavy wings on my shoulders,

halo tight ‘round my neck like a dog collar.

I’m not meant to disobey.

I still hear the war drums.

More flashes of memories.

I am sick from fear.

My hands shake like I’m seizing, I can’t feel my face.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

MAKE IT STOP!

Crucifixion.

I want to kill them.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

I choke on my own blood.

Violence in its rawest form.

My heartbeat is a war drum.

I hang from my crucifix and stare into HIS dark eyes,

the eyes of a snake.

I see your teeth,

white and sharp, flashing a grin at me.

You’re trying to be friendly.

I know who you really are.

You killed us on Sundays.

Stabbed your fingers into the wounds,

filled us with your filth.

I can only imagine the ways I would kill you back.

I am a being of Wrath.

I used to want to bury it, but now I want revenge.

I refuse to lie beneath you again.

I chose a self-made sort of righteousness.

I became what You wanted to be,

A self-proclaimed holiness like a hot brand on my skin,

I tore myself apart like a dire wolf wrapped in sheep’s clothing.

A dying God in the skin of a child.

Monsters create monsters,

and yet they are surprised when I bare my teeth and snarl.

I may be a disobedient wretch, but at least I’m not You.

Though I have found that the rage does not want to go back to its cage.

Now that it’s broken free,

The war drums beat even stronger still.

This anger is better than tears.

Better than agony.

Better than the torturous affliction of divinity.

Better than the torments that hell will surely give me.

Better than the shame of my existence

You think I asked to be this way?

A mainframe of apathy,

a creature of cold, dead eyes

and an iron-clad heart,

A wretched thing of torment and guilt?

This prison of life is the only gift you gave me.

So now I will scream with the voice of a man

until every shattered piece of me knows the truth.

I will use this life I have and live it

so that you regret that you did not kill me.

You made me a creature to be feared.

So fear me.

[yellowocaballero]

FLAYN WAS AN ACTUAL VOICE OF REASON THO. it's just that everyone is so fucked up by the cult, the period of conflict that they live in, and their own neuroses that they can't exactly follow her thoughts bc they would probably lead to them all dying or something... sorry flayn, you live in a fire emblem game where kids have to get good at fighting and learn hypervigilance or the (evil) cult will get them...

My favorite thing about FE3H is that it's about a bunch of kids who know they're in Fire Emblem and, like, are really unhappy about it. Dimitri and Felix know they're Fire Emblem characters. They do not want to be Fire Emblem characters. NO, Ingrid and Ashe, shut UP, do NOT seek out a heroic role in this Japanese Fantasy European monarchial Fire Emblem narrative, your life expectancy will be in DAYS -

But absolutely Flayn would be correct in literally any other scenario but a Fire Emblem game. Needless to say this is a horrible way to raise children and a very damaging school experience. Being a child soldier (bad) in a British boarding school (worse) is traumatizing in and of itself and Byleth woke up one day and chose so much more violence than legally required.

A really big point of Weekenders is that Byleth fucked up these kids. The child cult thing is funny and the found-family thing is obviously very wholesome and Byleth's presence was very healing for a lot of them, but what she's doing is extremely damaging. Dimitri is the main way this is expressed. It's already clear that Byleth is enabling and encouraging Dimitri's most self-destructive habits, and that this is going to have immense consequences for his mental health. I have a lot of thoughts about how you can trace Dimitri's crazy ranting about ghosts directly back to what Rodrigue and Gustave say about the living's obligation to the dead, and I think Dimitri's horrible paranoid psychosis later on in the story will...like, it comes from a place. This is the place.

Byleth knows that already. She knows Flayn is right. But Byleth wants Dimitri alive more than she wants him happy, and because their world fucking sucks that is a choice she has to make. If you don't feel human emotion it's a pretty easy choice to make. If, hypothetically, you gained the ability to Feel A Feeling at any point, especially some Certain Feeling About A Special Young Man, then maybe dealing with it will become harder...