#J. J from IRL if you ever see this. If THIS is how you find me. Im so sorry

[little-candy-store-of-horrors]

Flick Fick the gestapo 🖕

[ak319]

Dark J.M x fem!reader

-- ★ The Word of Claim ── Oneshot

Syno: Word of claim, a tradition where a man fires his weapon outside a woman's home and speaks her name, and in that moment, she becomes his wife. Though long banned, deemed a crime, a taboo… who cares? Outlaws never follow laws, do they? Warnings/MDNI: forced marriage, angst, blackmailing, kidnapping, suggestive non-con, manhandling, in conclusion just men being shit as usual except Hosea-// I don't condone such behavior irl! ✰ -12.5K taglist: @shackspossum @nayykura @whalecage

I concept m.list

"You ain't gonna run away this time, BOY!"

The words spurred him on, his pace quickening to a near sprint, even though his legs felt like jelly from the biting cold. He couldn't stop. Not now. Not ever.

Wait...what's that? There, a good hideout.

His heart pounded in his chest as the sound of galloping hooves grew louder behind him. Amateurs. They knew how to buy fine horses but didn't know the first thing about riding them right. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed it, the lawmen were dismounting, choosing to pursue him on foot instead.

John vaulted over fence after fence, each leap bringing him closer to the dark silhouette of his salvation.

A barn.

The doors were already ajar. Luck, or maybe fate, was on his side tonight. He wasted no time slipping inside, diving for the best hiding spot he could find amidst the shadows.

Outside, the world was alive with ominous noises, the muffled crunch of boots on frozen ground, the baying of dogs in the distance. The chill in the air seemed to seep straight into his bones, but the tension was far worse.

Dutch and Hosea are gonna kill me if I get caught tonight

After a tense stretch of silence, the barn door creaked open.

"Show yourself," a man's voice demanded, calm but laced with authority. "I know you're in here, I saw you from the porch. Come. Here."

John let out a quiet, defeated sigh. He had no other choice. Slowly, he emerged from his hiding spot, muscles taut with apprehension. His eyes landed on the figure of a man, no badge, no uniform. Just a regular man. Probably the owner.

"Sir--look, it was just a pickpocketing offense, I swear! Just let me stay here for the night--no, no, scratch that. J- Just give me some water, and I'll leave! But please, don't call them back, I-"

"You got nerves."

The man stepped closer, his gaze heavy and unforgiving.

"You come onto my property, and you think I’m gonna coddle your sorry ass? I've seen plenty of boys like you in my time, desperate, and reckless, they always end up worse than this."

John flinched, not just at the sharpness of the words but at the dull throb of his wounds from the earlier scuffle with the officers. His voice wavered, desperation bleeding through every syllable.

"Please...sir. Just--water... and I'll be out of your hair-"

The man didn’t even hesitate. Without a word, he struck John across the face, sending him sprawling onto the cold, hard floor. Stars danced in his vision, but before he could even register what had happened, the man grabbed him roughly, hauling him up like he weighed nothing.

John struggled, but it was no use. The man dragged him out of the barn, his grip like iron.

Outside, the officers were waiting by the gate, their grim expressions lit by the flicker of lantern light. John’s heart sank as the man shoved him forward, handing him over without a second thought.

"You wanted him? Here he is."

"What's going on outside?" you asked, placing the folded clothes your mother had handed you into the cupboard. Your expression mirrored her own as curiosity and concern flitted across her face. Without hesitation, both of you hurried to the porch to see what was causing the commotion in the distance.

"Make sure he learns his lesson. Boys like him should never go unpunished," your father’s voice carried stern authority, cutting through the cold night air.

The officer gripping John roughly by the arm nodded with a self-satisfied grin. "As if that’s even a question. This little shit’s been stealing from a lot of folks around here. Thanks for the help."

John, still reeling from your father’s earlier slap and the rough handling of the lawmen, struggled to stay on his feet. His breaths came in short gasps, his legs wobbling under him. From where he stood, his bruised gaze caught sight of two figures on the porch. Shadows obscured their faces, but there was no mistaking it.

You, a girl, around his age. Standing behind your mother.

A pang of something sharp, humiliation, resentment, or despair, stabbed through him.

"Tsk, kids these days," your mother muttered under her breath. She shook her head and ushered you back inside, the door closing firmly behind you, shutting out the scene.

It wasn’t long before your father joined you in the living room, his face stern as he explained what had happened. A boy of sixteen--three years older than you--tried to hide in the barn after looting folks and thought he could get away with it.

"This is why one should always stay alert," your mother sighed, sinking into her chair with a shake of her head.

Meanwhile, John sat in the cold, damp cell, shivering as time passed. He waited, days blending into one another, the monotony broken only by the gnawing ache in his stomach and the wish to escape.

Then Dutch came. Days later, the gang leader strode in and bailed him out, though not without delivering the most humiliating lecture John had ever endured.

"You think this is what it means to be a Van der Linde? You think crawling around barns like a whipped dog is what I taught you?! If you’re gonna live, you fight for it. You hear me, boy? You fight."

John clenched his jaw and bore it, but the sting of those words didn’t come close to the bitterness curdling inside him. He couldn't shake the memory of your father standing over him, cold and unrelenting. Denying him even the smallest shred of mercy.

Kindness, was that too much to ask for?

The years had been cruel, but this moment burned. He’d lived through enough to know that most people treated him like a piece of dirt under their boots. But this time, it was harder to swallow.

His words echoed in his mind.

"People like you don’t deserve kindness. You’re a lesson, boy, a warning to others."

John replayed it over and over as he rode back to camp. The fury in his chest smoldered alongside an ache he couldn’t explain. But what also stayed with him most was the fleeting glimpse of you, standing behind your mother on the porch.

Oh...he won't ever forget that night.

❀˖°

"Are you insane?! What are you, twelve?!" Hosea’s voice rose, his frustration nearing its peak and so was the urge to bang his head against a tree.

"I’m not a kid, and it’s about time you stopped treating me like one!"

Hosea’s eyes narrowed, the lines on his face deepening as his temper flared. "Look, John, this isn’t just about doing it! It’s about what happens after! Are you in your damn senses? You can barely take care of yourself, and here you are, standing there, demanding to do this shit like you’ve got it all figured out!"

John smirked, his chuckle low and mocking. "That’s exactly why I’m doing it, old man. To bring someone to care for me."

Hosea froze for a moment, disbelief washing over him before disgust replaced it. "You’ve lost it," he muttered under his breath. With a grimace, he stormed toward Dutch’s tent, muttering curses under his breath.

Dutch glanced up as Hosea approached, his ever-watchful gaze already settled on the scene. "No need to explain, Hosea," Dutch said calmly, snapping his book shut. "I heard it all."

John strolled in behind Hosea, with his usual casual swagger. He leaned lazily against the pole of Dutch’s tent, his smirk still in place.

"John," Dutch began, his voice low and measured. "You sure you know what you’re getting into? This ain’t some childish stunt."

"I know exactly what I’m doing, Dutch," John replied smoothly, though the fire in his eyes betrayed his calm facade. "It’s time I take something for myself."

"You are talking about a whole-ass human here!"

"I don’t see what’s wrong with it," Dutch drawled, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Boy wants to marry... let the boy marry. Am I right?"

Hosea’s jaw dropped, his face a perfect picture of disbelief. "Dutch, don’t tell me you’ve lost your fucking mind too! You’re gonna let this little--God help me--this child pull some old tradition stunt?! What, are you trying to check off every damn crime we’ve missed on your list?"

Dutch let out a soft snort, clearly amused by Hosea’s exasperation. Without a word, he stood and moved to shut the flaps of the tent. Wouldn’t want Annabelle overhearing now, would he? No sense in tarnishing her view of him.

"Hosea, Hosea, Hosea. We’re outlaws, remember? And this-" he waved a hand toward John, who stood with his arms crossed, a stubborn set to his jaw, "this is nothing."

“Nothing?” Hosea’s voice cracked, raw with incredulity. “That’s a person, Dutch, not some goddamn prize you can pluck from a house like a trinket! And what happens when John realizes he’s too immature to handle this? Huh? What then?”

Dutch shrugged, unbothered, his calm exterior unshaken. “Then he can toss her aside. Send her back. Leave her somewhere if it comes to it. But why fret over what might happen when we’ve got a score to secure now?”

Hosea looked like he might combust on the spot. “Are you listening to yourself?! Toss her aside?” he repeated, his voice rising. "You want John to ruin someone’s life because he’s too stubborn to let go of a grudge?!”

“It's not that big of a deal."

Hosea scoffed and glared daggers at John. But Dutch continued.

"Besides," Dutch added, tilting his head toward John with a knowing look. "Didn’t you mention they’re loaded? That true, son?"

John nodded, his lips twitching into a half-smile. "Yeah… big house. Plenty of land too."

Dutch’s grin widened, "There you go, Hosea. A little risk, a big reward. Ain’t that what we’re all about?"

Hosea shook his head, exasperation dripping from every word. "So you’re gonna loot them too? Good Lord, have mercy. You’re gonna make that poor girl lose her mind in less than a day! Look... I think looting is a fine alright? So how bout' we just do that? Isn't that enough damage, John?"

"Oh yeah? And then what?! As if that's gonna affect his rich ass! That's not enough damage! Money comes and goes...but honor doesn't. I wanna strip him of his dignity! Men like him--rich snobby assholes--that's what they deserve! And this is what we are supposed to do! We are not some bunch of softies ol' man!"

"John but you are not-"

"I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!" John’s voice was raw with rage, his fists clenched tight at his sides. "Just like her daddy didn’t give a fuck about me! So why the hell should I, huh? Why should I!?"

"I’ve never seen a man so petty in my entire life. Grow the hell up, John! You’re twenty-three, for God’s sake, and you’re still hung up on something that happened years ago. Dutch! Tell him-"

"ENOUGH!" Dutch’s booming voice cut through the chaos, his towering form commanding silence as he paced the length of the tent.

"I allow it," Dutch declared, his tone final. "John...I give you my blessing." He glanced at Hosea, raising a brow. "Hosea, how do you think outlaws got married back in the day, huh? Even now, people loathe us and spit on us. And why? Because we don’t follow their precious rules. Well, guess what? We’re outlaws. We don’t play nice. But we ain’t that bad, are we? And we require some good cash for the move. This is a good opportunity, no doubt."

Hosea groaned, dragging a hand down his face, muttering something about losing his sanity.

But John didn’t hear any of it. Dutch’s words were all he needed. A smirk spread across his face as he turned and strode out of the tent, his mind already racing ahead to the moment he would face your father. The thrill of it burned in his chest, the prospect of taking the one thing that man must cherish above all else.

Just like he didn’t respect my dignity, I won’t respect his, John thought, his resolve hardening with every step.

He remembered the day he first laid eyes on you, properly, for the first time. It was at your sister's wedding, though he had only been a silent, distant observer. From the shadows of the tree line, he saw you, a vision of elegance and quiet beauty, entirely unaware of his presence. Pretty, he thought then, prettier than he had imagined.

Pretty enough to be taken, both from home and...

Your father would have loved seeing your pretty tears if he decided to go with that plan...

He could have made his move right then. Could have stepped out of the shadows, disrupted the festivities, and declared his claim in front of everyone. The laughter, and the music, all of it could have stopped on his word.

But he didn’t. He stayed hidden, watching you smile and dance, every moment searing itself into his memory. No, he thought. Not yet. This required precision. Patience.

Through his web of old connections and childhood companions, people who owed him favors or thrived on chaos, he kept tabs on you and your family. Quietly. He bided his time, gathering everything he needed to strike when the moment was right.

And now, that moment was near. Everything had fallen into place. All his waiting, all his planning, it had led to this. You would be his. Not because he could take you, but because you would have no choice. Neither will your father.

"Boys...let's go, my treat."

"Got the permission?" Javier glanced up from the fire.

John let out a low chuckle. Sean joined in, his wild energy spreading through the air like a spark.

“Permission? Your brother here got the 'Dutch' blessing.” Their laughter was like a haunting chorus as if they had no care for anything and anyone.

The three hooted, grinning to themselves, heading towards the stables. But just before John could mount his horse, a voice called out to him again.

"John..."

“What now?” John sighed with a hint of frustration. He didn't want to listen. He didn’t need to hear any more warnings, he had made up his mind.

“Just... what if you had a sister, and it happened to her, son?”

He gritted his teeth, and for a moment, his mind flashed to something else, something buried deep within.

Damn it, I know he's right, but my reason is more important than that. Throw her out? Destroy her life? The words replayed in his mind, loud and damning. A part of him bristled at the idea, hell, wasn’t that what he’d been dreaming about? Taking something back for himself, ruining your father's life? But another part, quieter yet sharper, whispered back. And then what? What kind of man does that make you, John?

Hell, John didn't know what would happen, how this would all play out. He didn't even know how he would make it through this, let alone anyone else involved. But in the moment, it felt too distant, too abstract to fully grasp.

No...

Why the fuck should I care?

It wasn’t his problem. His mind was made up. It wasn’t about what they would face, this is a matter of his honor and self-will. The kid never did learn to respect boundaries and to listen. And damn the consequences. For now, John just had to move forward. The rest could burn.

“Well, that’s why I don’t have one. Let’s go, boys.”

The words hung in the air, bitter and final. There was no turning back now. Hosea, standing off to the side, watched as John’s figure disappeared into the dusk with the others. The old man sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his years, and his regrets. He turned his gaze toward Dutch’s tent, where the gang leader sat, listening to music with an air of nonchalance.

If only… if only your father had shown him mercy that night. If only he had opened his door and shared a shred of kindness. Maybe then, he’d be a hidden guard dog for the family, ready to lay down his life for them.

But it was too late for that now.

❀˖°

"(Y/N)--Oh my God, this girl---HEY! Wake up!" Your mother’s sharp voice sliced through the morning quiet as she stormed into your room. You groaned, snatching the covers back over your head.

"Let me be!" you mumbled, burrowing deeper into the bed.

But your mother wasn’t having it. She yanked the covers off with a vengeance, ignoring your muffled protests. "You listen to me, young woman! Get up, have breakfast, and help with dinner! Or have you forgotten your sister is visiting this evening?"

You groaned dramatically, rolling onto your stomach. "What do we even have maids for?"

"They are doing other stuff, (Y/N)! Oh my God! Get your lazy ass up. I swear, your father’s coddling has turned you into a complete bum!" Your mother threw her hands up in frustration before softening her tone, just slightly. "I’m going to prepare your breakfast, honey, but you better be down to help with some things. You need to start learning this stuff someday. In fact, I’m telling your father to start looking for suitors soon-"

"HEY! HEY!" You leaped out of bed, cutting her off. "Woman, calm down! I swear, a hundred witches must’ve died for you to end up as my mother."

Undeterred, you leaned in, pinching her cheeks with a mischievous grin. "Like, c’mon, you’re so lucky to have birthed me and you are going to just send me away like that? No, not happening."

She swatted your hands away, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Are you done?"

"Not yet, " you teased, smirking. "Firstly, that day is far away--no--it's nonexistent. And secondly, even if it happens, tell Papa either he sends a servant with me as a marriage gift, or he makes sure there’s a line of them wherever he fixes the marriage which I think he sure will anyway. Otherwise, I’m perfectly fine staying here."

Your teasing tone only made her groan in frustration. "Tsk, get out of my way. You’ve already wasted my precious time. And make yourself presentable before coming down to wolf your food!"

You stretched your limbs with a lazy chuckle, savoring every second as you took your sweet time getting downstairs.

After finishing your breakfast, you placed the empty plate on the kitchen table and took a long sip of your coffee. "Mama, just tell me what I have to help with so I can get it done and go play."

Your mother turned to you with an incredulous look, hands already on her hips. "Excuse me? For God's sake, (S/N) and Leo are coming for the first time after the marriage. Can’t you skip your silly games just this once? I swear, (Y/N), grow up! You’re not five anymore. You and those girlfriends of yours!"

This was a familiar battleground between the two of you, and honestly, you enjoyed riling her up about it. What’s wrong with living your life and having some fun with your pals?

"Mama, don’t be pouty just because you didn’t get to enjoy your youth, alright?" you teased with a grin. "Besides, we play right out on the lawn! Maybe they can even help us with dinner-"

"NO!" she cut you off sharply. "The last time you brought them into the kitchen just to get water, my whole crockery set was broken! Keep them far away from my kitchen!"

You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath, "Jeez… you’re a totally different person when guests are about to come."

"What did you say?" she snapped, making you jump slightly.

"Nothing! Nothing....." Please don't start again. With a sigh, you began assisting, grumbling internally about how overly dramatic and anxious she always got before any visitors showed up.

❀˖°

You were setting the table, having just come back from the lawn after instructing Mateo, the gardener, to move some pots around.

"My lovely daughter looks as lovely as always," your father said warmly, patting your head before joining you to help with the table.

You grinned and leaned closer, whispering with a giggle, "Your wife really knackered me today, Mr. (L/N)."

That earned a wheezy laugh from him. "Now you know what it’s like to deal with her every day, kid."

"Papa," you whined, playfully dragging out the word. "I hate when she brings up those stupid marriage talks! I swear, she’s going to ambush you about it next. So when she does, just dodge it. Okay?"

Your father paused, turning to you with a softer, more thoughtful look. "For how long, though, (Y/N)? Isn't it gonna happen someda-"

"Shush!" you cut him off, placing your hand firmly over his face.

He chuckled at your antics as you grinned mischievously. "No, no, no. You’re supposed to be on my side and say, ‘Of course, dear.’"

"Alright, alright, as you wish. Of course, dear. I’ll ignore her."

"Ignore who? Hm?"

Both of you jumped, startled, as your mother appeared in the doorway, balancing a tray of glasses, her focus seemingly on the task but her tone suspicious.

"Nothing," you both said in perfect unison, struggling to keep straight faces.

Your mother rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced, and glanced pointedly at the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner. "Where is (S/N) anyway? They’re running late, aren’t they?"

"Relax darling, they might be here by 7. Let's all relax for a while." Just as you all three sat down on the living room couch, loud hooves could be heard. But it didn't sound like just a single horse carrying your brother-in-law and sister, it sounded more than that. "They came in a carriage or something?" You asked giddily and your father got up.

"I'll go check."

Outside, the night seemed unnaturally quiet, save for the restless shifting of hooves on gravel. The stillness in the air was unsettling, as though the world itself was holding its breath. Then came the sound, the sharp reports of gunshots cutting through the silence.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Then the sixth...

“(Y/N) (L/N)!”

Your name was like a chilling punctuation that seemed to freeze time.

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a call. It sounded like a declaration, a command that seemed to cut through the very air around you. You had no idea what was happening or what the hell even was that. But for your parents, it was a blow to their very core.

“Wh-at-what was that? Who-” Your words caught in your throat as you turned to your parents.

Your mother’s face drained of color, her hands trembling as she reached for you. “Upstairs. Now.”

��Mama, what’s happening?”

“(M/N), get her out of here,” your father said, his tone low but brimming with an intensity that made your stomach twist. He hadn’t even turned to look at you; his eyes were locked on the door, his jaw tight.

“Will someone tell me-”

“I said GO!” His voice boomed now, reverberating through the walls.

Your mother didn’t hesitate. Her fingers dug into your arm as she dragged you toward the staircase, her steps hurried and uneven. The panic in her movements was more terrifying than the voice outside.

You stumbled up the stairs, half-dragged, half-running. At the top, your mother shoved you into your bedroom and spun around, shutting the door behind you with a force that rattled the walls.

“Mama! What’s going on?!”

Her hand hovered over the handle, shaking, but she didn’t turn back. “Stay here,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

The door clicked shut, the lock turning with a dull finality.

Downstairs, the scene was entirely different as your father swung open the door,. The guard stationed at the gate was on the ground. Dead? Stabbed? Knocked out? (F/N) couldn't tell because his attention was on the four men standing rigidly by their horses. The one in the center, who had fired the shots moments ago, stood with his hands clasped in front of him, the barrel of his gun still gripped tightly in one hand. His smile, wide and disturbingly sweet, suggested he thought he’d done something worthy of praise, though the horror in your father’s chest told a different story entirely.

Sick--sick--sick bastard.

"What the hell you guys want?! Get off my property before I report the authorities!"

"Mr. (L/N), same as before...." John stalked closer, his gait confident and casual.

"I think I made it very clear what I came here for didn't I? Right boys?" Your father's jaw ticked as he heard agreeing grunts and snorts, even a whistle. “I said the word and you know the rules.”

"You sick--don't you fucking know what you are doing is a crime!? Now get off my property-" John didn't even have to say anything as your father halted his words when he heard the three other rifles click on him.

The cold, metallic clicks of the rifles were louder than they should have been, echoing in the oppressive silence of the night. Your father froze, his fists clenching at his sides, but his eyes remained defiant, locked on the man in front of him.

John tilted his head slightly, the smile on his face never faltering. “Crime?” he echoed, almost lazily, like he found the very word amusing. “Well now, that’s rich, coming from a man like you. Don’t act like you’re any holier than me, Mr. (L/N).”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me!"

“Oh, but I do,” John said smoothly, taking another step forward. The moonlight glinted off his gun, still hanging casually in his hand, though the threat it carried was anything but casual. “I know plenty. Enough to know you’re not in any position to lecture me about morals. Besides…” His eyes flicked up toward the mansion, lingering somewhere around the second floor. “I didn’t come for you.”

Your father’s breath hitched, and for a moment, his composure cracked, just slightly. “You’re not taking her.”

John’s grin widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were sharp, cold, and calculating. “Is that so?” he drawled, almost teasing. “Well, you see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve said the fucking word. Everyone here heard me, and you know what that means.”

“You think anyone cares about your outdated, backwoods tradition!?”

John’s smile disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard glare. “Tradition or not, I’m here to collect. And I don’t like repeating myself, old man. Now, you go bring her down, or...I'll do it myself."

One of the other men chuckled darkly, breaking the tension just enough to make your father’s stomach churn. “Might wanna think carefully about this, Mr. (L/N),” Sean said, his rifle trained steady.

Your father’s mind raced. He could see the resolve in John’s stance, the ruthlessness in his eyes. Negotiation wasn’t an option. His hands twitched at his sides, itching for the revolver in the drawer near the door, but the odds weren’t in his favor. Four men, three rifles aimed at him, and you upstairs, unaware of the danger that had come knocking.

John’s expression softened into something almost mocking, a twisted version of pity. “You should’ve thought about that before, Mr. (L/N). Actions have consequences. You taught me that yourself, didn’t you?”

"You...tha---don't tell me...you-"

"Yes, the boy you threw like garbage to the lawmen. Here, have a good look. All grown up now, and what did you say that day? Yeah, turned out worse than you thought, didn’t I? Guess being in jail doesn’t always change a person."

(F/N) staggered back, his entire body flooding with dread. Cold sweat ran down his back, but he had to remain composed. He had to stay strong, for you.

"Look, kid," your father finally said, voice trembling but laced with fury. "You got a problem with me... take me, kill me if you want, but don’t drag an innocent into this. She has nothing to do with it!"

John’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Ooooh, you don’t get it, do you? It’s not about her. It’s about you, and your suffering, ol' man. Damn, I’ve been waiting for this day. I ain’t going empty-handed. Call the whole damn battalion if you want." His voice darkened, a promise of violence lingering in his words. "But don’t worry... I’ll take care of the sweet thing."

"You son of a bitch!" (F/N) shouted, his anger surging. But before he could land a punch on John, he was thrown him aside with a swift, brutal smack, sending him crashing to the ground, just crossing the threshold.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” your father hissed, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “You’re destroying her life. For what? Some petty revenge? SOME SICK GAME!?” The complaints went ignored, however.

John, followed by Javier and Sean, strode into the house as if it were his own, moving with lethal purpose. Bill stood at the door, guarding the entrance, his rifle trained on (F/N). The threat in his eyes was unmistakable, any movement, any protest, and there would be hell to pay.

As soon as John stepped inside, he waved off Javier and Sean with a flick of his wrist, a signal that they were free to do what they came for. Javier grinned darkly and immediately went to work, tearing through the house with an almost practiced ease. Drawers were flung open, cupboards ransacked, and anything of value that could be carried away was seized. Sean, equally quick and eager, followed suit, stuffing pockets with anything that caught his eye, silverware, jewelry, anything shiny or expensive.

Down the hallway, John’s attention was solely on the task at hand. He had no need for material things, what he was after was far more precious to him. He knew where you would be, locked away in your room, hiding from the chaos, just as your parents had hoped. The door was already locked, but that didn’t slow him down. With a single harsh kick, the door splintered open, the wood buckling under the force of the impact.

Inside, you and your mother froze at the sudden intrusion. Your heart slammed in your chest as your eyes met John’s, and your mother quickly moved to shield you. But she wasn’t fast enough.

"Shhh, don’t make this harder than it has to be," John said with a twisted smile, his voice dark, almost too calm.

"DON'T TOUCH HER! PLEASE!"

He moved towards you with purpose, and before you could react, he grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him with an iron grip. Your mother reached out, but John shoved her aside with a cold sneer, not even sparing her a glance.

"MAMA! HEY-"

His hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you. His grip was too strong, too unrelenting. With a swift motion, he spun you around and threw you to the floor, your limbs twisting beneath you in a desperate attempt to break free.

"LEAVE MY DAUGHTER ALONE!"

“Stop squirming,” he hissed as he quickly bound your wrists and ankles together. The rope was tight, biting into your skin as he hogtied you with practiced precision. You could feel the coldness of his touch as he tightened the knot, making sure it was secure.

"LET ME GO YOU INSANE BASTARD! YOU LUNATIC-" Your screams got muffled as he tied the rope around your face too. Your mother hits on his body doing nothing to help.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but there was nothing you could do. You were helpless. Your mother’s cries echoed through the room, but John only chuckled darkly as he hoisted you up, dragging you toward the door.

“You’re coming with me, sweetheart,” John murmured into your ear, his breath hot and threatening against your skin. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Your mother lunged forward again, but her efforts were futile as John simply shoved her away, his strength overwhelming. He pulled you out of the room, your body flailing helplessly as he dragged you down the hallway.

You could see your father still struggling with Bill, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t stop what was already set in motion.

John paused just outside the door, glancing back at the mess his men had made of the house. The walls were littered with broken vases and frames, drawers pulled open and their contents spilled across the floor. But none of it mattered to him now. He had what he wanted.

The sound of hooves thundered outside, and moments later, (S/N) and her husband Leo appeared on the porch, rushing toward the house. Their expressions shifted from confusion to horror as John stepped through the door, carrying you in his arms, your wrists bound tightly, your face streaked with tears.

“Stop! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? Let her go!” (S/N) screamed, her voice cracking as she surged forward. But Bill stepped in her way, his broad form blocking the door as her fists pounded uselessly against him.

John stood back, watching the chaos unfold with a cruel sense of satisfaction. "Nice to meet y'all, I am your younger brother-in-law as of today," he said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I wish I could join the lovely dinner. But got business to take care of..."

Leo moved to intervene, but Javier’s rifle cracked across his head, and he crumpled to the ground. (S/N)’s cries turned frantic as she struggled against Bill, who merely smirked at her attempts.

John’s voice cut through the chaos, smooth and mocking. “Ah, family reunions are so sweet, aren’t they?” He didn’t stop walking, his grip on you firm as he crossed the yard to his horse. He glanced over his shoulder at (S/N), his grin sharp and cruel. “Don’t worry. Your sister will be well cared for! Better than she ever was here.”

“LET HER GO!” (S/N)'s scream was shrill, desperate. “You can’t do this! Please!”

John chuckled darkly, tossing you up onto his horse like you weighed nothing. “Oh, I can. And I will. Your father should’ve thought twice before crossing me."

As they mounted their horses, victorious gunshots and howling filled the air, echoing into the night.

Your father’s voice boomed as he followed with his gun, his words filled with desperation. “You sons of a bitches! I’ll kill you! Let her go, she has nothing to do with this!

John chuckled and took off with a speed, remaining at the front while the others covered his back. You could hear shots being fired by your father and shouts of the lawmen too but nothing could stop what was happening. Your own panic was palpable by your muffled noises and panicked breath amidst the ongoing chaos.

This has got to be a fucking nightmare.

The group of four rode off into the night, leaving the house and the shattered remains of your family behind. John smirked at your muffled noises and looked over his shoulder speeding up. "Ain't you a loudmouth. But don’t ya' worry, sweetheart. I’m taking care of everything. I’ll show you a life you’ll never forget.”

❀˖°

The air was thick with tension as he rode through the night, his mare's hooves striking the ground with rhythmic, almost predatory steps. Behind him, you, his new wife, slumped over the back of his horse, bound and silent. You had no choice. No voice. So different...it felt so fucking different from the bounties he hunted.

Which made the familiar guilt bloom again in his chest but he pushed it aside like a fly out of milk.

John couldn’t bring himself to care about your struggles. No, in his mind, this was necessary. This was what he deserved. What they both deserved.

As they neared the camp, the flickering fires grew larger, their warm glow contrasting against the coldness that had settled in John’s chest. This wasn’t just about you, or this stupid tradition, this was about proving something to the others. Proving that he could do it, that he had control.

John’s boots crunched against the dry earth, his grip firm on his captive as he dragged her toward the large tent. The men watched him, their curiosity piqued, but no one dared to speak. They all knew what this meant.

John didn’t waste time. He entered the tent without hesitation and laid you, if you call throwing: laying, in front of Dutch. Your hands were still bound and your throat was in pain from all the screaming. You had lost the strength at this point.

“Well, well. Looks like we have a new addition to the family,”

Dutch sat up in his chair, his eyes flicking from John to your form on the ground. His lips curled into a slow smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Javier, Sean, and Bill, carrying the spoils of their work, approached, and John gave a small nod, acknowledging their effort.

“Well, well, look at that… Damn, John. Good job, son.”

Dutch handed over a heavy bag of gold to John, who accepted it with a slow, deliberate motion, his fingers tightening around the weight of it.

"Thanks...Dutch."

“This gold’s yours. Wouldn't want your newlywed bride to be empty-handed now, would we?” Dutch’s smile was sharp, a predator's grin, as he pressed the bag into John’s hands.

John didn’t smile back, his eyes darting to you, the girl who had been claimed, bound, and dragged here. His grip tightened on the bag, his expression unreadable...

'What did you gain John....? You destroyed a girl's life to feed your own ego?'

His eyes met with Hosea's whose expression seemed to concur with his own thoughts.

'This is how you gonna treat her? You already failed as a man.'

You heard it all, the words, the taunting, the lecherous laughs. Each syllable felt like another crack in your heart, another layer of your dignity stripped away. These men, every one of them, were complicit in this. In what John had done. In what they all were willing to let happen.

Dutch’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts again, though it wasn’t directed at John this time. Instead, he crouched down in front of you, his voice low, almost mocking in its softness. “Now, you listen here, Missy,” he began, his words dripping with false kindness. “We’re good people here, alright? And in time, you’ll understand that. I raised this boy in front of me, so rest assured.”

The bile rose in your throat as he spoke, and if it weren’t for the ropes binding you, you’d surely be sick. You held it down, the nausea gnawing at you, but you refused to show any more weakness than you already had.

“No doing anything silly here, to anyone else, or even yourself. Also, I wouldn’t suggest running back, ‘cause…” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think a woman being taken by a hoard of men and then returning home would be labeled with any honorable name.”

Is...this it? You can't escape this? Not after what had happened?...Ever? The words, these horrible words...no...

"And John?" Dutch's voice brought him back to his senses. "You gotta behave responsibly now...got it? Cuz' I assure you, marriage ain't a kid's game. Right, Hosea?" The latter ignored Dutch's joke and stormed off, fed up with this nonsense.

John’s hand found you again, roughly pulling you up, dragging you away from Dutch’s feet. The fact that he was your “husband” now sent a chill down your spine.

Dutch called after him with a final, taunting word, “Get her settled, boy. And congratulations!”

John pushed past the flaps of the tent, you felt your body being thrown down onto the ground again, a soft thud as you hit the dusty floor. The tent was dim, but you could make out the faint outline of bedding and supplies.

John stood over you for a moment, his shadow dark and looming in the light of the flickering fire outside. He was silent, staring down at you, his expression unreadable. The ropes around your wrists burned, but you didn’t try to move. What was the point?

His voice was low when it came, like a command more than a suggestion. “You stay here. Don’t make me come back and remind you why you’re here.”

And with that, he left, the flap of the tent snapping behind him as he went. You were alone now, but not really. The weight of the men’s presence lingered in the air, suffocating, even as they all carried on with their laughter and celebrations outside.

The only sound was the rustle of the tent in the wind and the faint murmurs of the men as they settled into camp. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel the burden of this new life, of your new reality, pressing down on you.

Mama...Papa...(S/N)..

God...why you? Why--just why?!

You didn't know how long you stayed there, or how many times you panicked and even fainted once. Then he came again...

"Listen--I... I’m going to take the ropes off, and you better stay quiet, alright?"

For a moment, his words almost felt like a plea. What the hell was this? The same man who had torn everything apart now seemed... pathetic. The man who had taken you, who had stolen your life, now sounded like he was afraid. His shaky voice didn't make you feel sympathy, it only fueled your hatred.

As soon as your hands were free, you didn’t hesitate. You swung with all the anger you’d been holding in for what felt like an eternity. Your hand collided with his face, not once, but twice. The sharp slap echoed in the air, and John staggered back, his face flashing with surprise.

“You wanted revenge, right?! YOU GOT IT! YOU MADE MY DAD SUFFER, SO NOW KILL ME! DO IT. I DON’T WANNA LIVE WITH YOUR SORRY PATHETIC ASS! JUST LOOK AT YOURSELF! Nothing, fucking nothing screams HUMAN about you! YOU DUMBFUCK!”

He didn’t react at first, standing still, his mouth tight. His mind seemed to stall, his eyes betraying a flicker of confusion. Maybe he thought you’d just... accept it.

"You listen-" He started, his voice suddenly more commanding, trying to regain control. But you weren’t going to let him.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You screamed, your palm crashing into his face again, hard enough to make him step back. “Either take me back or kill me!”

John recoiled, blinking hard, but he didn’t speak for a moment. You saw him swallow, like he was struggling with something.

"STOP WITH THE KILLING TALK! I DON'T KILL WOMEN!"

You sneered, your blood boiling with disgust. "OH YEAH!? BUT YOU SNATCH THEM, HOW FUCKING NOBLE!"

His eyes were still locked on yours, but now there was something else there, something resembling frustration, even confusion. He didn’t know how to deal with you, didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do now. His whole plan had been thrown off.

You saw it in the way he stood there, shifting uneasily, the cracks in his control finally starting to show.

"Take me back or kill me, you son of a bitch!" You shouted, your chest heaving with raw emotion, your hands still clenched in fists at your sides. You were done begging. "You are nothing but a coward! All of you here are nothing but cowards, not men-"

That's it.

His grip was unforgiving, forcing your head up, his fingers digging into your chin with such force that it hurt. The pressure was unbearable, and your neck strained under the weight of it, but there was no escaping him. His eyes were cold, hard, and unblinking as he stared down at you, his breath hot against your skin.

"No," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You will fucking listen, got it?" He shook you violently with every word, the anger seeping from his tone. "I ain’t always gonna deal with these temper tantrums like your daddy. I am your husband now. Yeah, get that," he spat the words, venom in every syllable. "Get that fucking imprinted in your head. You gonna come to terms with it, whether you like it or not."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you felt the tears, those damned pathetic tears, begin to form again. You tried to speak, to shout, to do anything to make him stop, but your mouth was clamped shut under his forceful grip. You could barely breathe, could barely move. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, making everything inside you twist with dread. The world around you felt like it was crumbling, the horror of what was happening suffocating you in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

"Please..."

The single word you managed to croak out hung in the air, fragile and desperate. It caught his attention, just long enough for him to look away, his jaw tight, his eyes shifting in something close to irritation. And then, with a sudden motion, he released you. The force of his grip pulled away so quickly that you tumbled backward, crashing onto the cot with a jarring thud.

"Just fucking stop! I said NO!" he repeated as if your resistance was some kind of insult to him, a challenge to his authority that he couldn't let slide. "And take this..."

He tossed the pouch at you. It landed on the cot with a soft clink. You froze for a second, blinking at the pouch. When your trembling hands slowly reached for it, you realized what it was, your mother’s gold jewelry.

Inside, there was more than just that, the gleaming gold pieces and the precious gems were accompanied by something much more sentimental. Your grandmother's necklace, an heirloom that had been passed down for generations, was nestled carefully within the folds of the fabric. You could almost hear your mother’s voice, her warmth in every memory attached to the jewelry. As you held it in your trembling hands, you couldn’t help but feel a strange relief.

At least this wasn’t taken from you.

You tried a different approach, your voice trembling with desperation, hoping, praying, that perhaps this might reach him.

“Y-you’re… going to do all this?” Your words broke with hiccups, but you pressed on, your desperation giving you courage. “Call someone your wife, k-kidnap them?... Someone who will hate you for eternity? You’re going to live with that? How do you people...sleep at night... hm? H-how?”

“You think I care how I sleep at night?” His voice was low, rough like splintered wood, and it made you flinch. “You think I don’t know what this is? What I’ve done?”

He took a step closer, his boots heavy against the ground, and you instinctively shrank back.

“Listen to me,” he spat, pointing a finger at you, his hand trembling just enough for you to notice. “I don’t want your damn hate, but if that’s all you’ve got, fine. Hate me. Curse me. Throw whatever you want my way. But don’t think for one second I’ll let you run. That won't have good consequences...remember that. Especially for your family. Whether you run to them or elsewhere. Imma' take my anger out on them either way."

Your breath hitched, but he wasn’t finished. He crouched down to your level, his face inches from yours, his words colder now.

“You think guilt’s gonna stop me? You think your tears are gonna make me let you go? No. You’re staying here. You’ll learn, one way or another, how this is gonna work.”

“I’m not proud of this,” he muttered, more to himself than you, his tone quieter now, though no less firm. “But it’s done. And you better start figuring out how to live with it. Because I ain’t letting you go.”

You stared at him in horror, tears streaking your cheeks. There was no reasoning with him, no way to break through his own guilt and stubbornness. He stood abruptly, towering over you once more.

“You’ll learn to live with it...you’ll understand. Eventually. You will have to for your own sake."

The tent flap shifted as Susan entered, carrying a bowl of food. She said nothing, her expression unreadable as she handed the bowl to John. For a brief moment, her gaze flickered toward you, a glance heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. Pity? Disdain? You couldn’t tell.

Then she turned and left, the fabric of the tent swaying shut behind her, leaving you alone with him once more.

John sat down, the bowl in his hands. The air between you crackled with tension as he placed it firmly on the makeshift table beside him.

“Now eat,” he ordered, his voice low and sharp.

You shook your head, your body trembling as you choked on your sobs.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze darkened, the softness from earlier entirely gone. He stood, leaning over you, his presence oppressive and inescapable.

“Don’t make me say it again,” he growled. “I’m not asking. Eat.”

Still, you shook your head, tears spilling freely down your face.

John’s patience snapped. He grabbed the bowl and held it up as a threat, his tone cold and unwavering. “You think I’m playing with you? I swear to God, if you don’t eat, I’ll force it down your throat. I. Said. Eat.”

His words cut through the air like a whip, leaving no room for argument. You flinched, staring at the bowl with wide, tear-filled eyes, knowing you had no choice. Your hands trembled as you reached for the spoon, your stomach churning with dread.

“Good,” he muttered, backing away just enough to let you breathe but keeping his eyes fixed on you. “About time you started listening.”

The minutes dragged on, each one more dreadful than the last, as you mindlessly forced the stew down, barely aware of its taste. When you finally pushed the bowl away, too sick with fear and despair to continue, he grabbed it and set it aside with an air of finality.

Then, without warning, John reached for the pouch of jewelry your mother had so carefully saved. He yanked it open, spilling its contents with no regard for the sentiment or sanctity they held. Your heart clenched as you watched his calloused fingers sift through the delicate gold pieces, his touch desecrating what was meant to symbolize joy and love.

"Here," he said, holding up the bangles, his tone commanding and without patience. "Wear these."

You instinctively backed away, clutching your hands to your chest as if shielding the last remnants of your dignity. The urge to snatch the precious jewelry from his sinful hands burned hot inside you, but the fear of his reaction held you in place.

"I said, wear em'."

Before you could think to resist, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a bruising grip. You winced but didn’t dare cry out, not wanting to provoke him further.

With a brutal kind of carelessness, he forced the gold bangles onto your trembling wrists, each one slipping over your hand with a sharp jingle that felt like the sound of shackles locking into place.

"There," he muttered admiring his work as if he’d achieved something. “Now you look the part.”

John’s gaze lingered on you as you sat there, your shoulders hunched and trembling, every ounce of defiance beaten down into quiet submission. You didn’t dare look at him, your hands resting on your lap, fidgeting with the edge of your dress as if trying to distract yourself from the weight of his presence. His earlier words of gruesome threats, and fear for your family still echoing in your mind.

The golden bangles on your wrist caught the dim light, gleaming against your soft, trembling skin. His eyes drifted to your face, the softness of your features now marred by fear. There was something about the way you sat there, quiet but unyielding, that made him feel like he won something precious.

Precious indeed.

“Look at you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was low, almost reverent, though it carried a jagged edge. “All quiet now, huh? Guess you’re finally startin’ to get it.”

You didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch, but he noticed the way your shoulders tensed under his gaze. It was enough to make him smirk, though the satisfaction in it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, John suddenly pushed himself to his feet. The movement was abrupt, startling you enough to glance at him before quickly looking away again. He stood there for a moment, towering over you, his arms crossed as he regarded you with an unreadable expression.

“Listen,” he began, his tone gruff, “I ain’t sleepin’ here tonight.” For a moment, relief flickered across your face, so brief he almost missed it. Almost.

“But,” he continued, “come tomorrow, you’d best start makin’ some space. ‘Cause this is my tent. Got it?”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as his words settled over you like a suffocating weight. He waited, watching for a reaction, for some acknowledgment that you understood. When none came, he gave a low, humorless chuckle and shook his head.

“Silent treatment, huh? Fine. You’ll come around.” His voice softened, but the undertone was still sharp enough to cut. “You’ll see. This ain’t as bad as you’re makin’ it out to be.”

With that, he grabbed his hat from the table and left the tent, the flap snapping shut behind him.

❀˖°

The second night fell heavier than the first, the air in the tent still and suffocating. You hadn’t moved much throughout the day, just sat there, staring blankly at the tent walls, every sound outside making you flinch. Food had been brought and taken away untouched. No one had come to check on you, not that you’d wanted them to. The isolation wrapped around you, heavy and unrelenting.

When the flap of the tent rustled, your heart leapt in panic. He stepped inside like he had every right to be there, his figure casting a shadow across the space. John’s hat was off, his coat slung carelessly over his arm. He moved with an air of certainty, his boots scuffing against the ground as he set his belongings on the small table by the cot.

“You’ve been quiet. Guess that means you’re learning.”

You didn’t respond, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively. His eyes landed on you, taking in your hunched posture, the way your face turned away from him. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. The silence stretched between you, tense and unbroken.

He walked closer, and every step made your breath hitch. When he finally stood over you, his shadow loomed large, swallowing you in its weight. “Scoot over,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm.

You froze, shaking your head before you could stop yourself. The fight was small, but it was all you could manage.

His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he crouched down to your level. “Didn’t think I’d have to remind you how things are. But I will if I need to.”

You shrank back, but there was nowhere to go. He sighed, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. “I ain’t here to fight with you, but you’re makin’ it real damn hard.”

Without another word, he sat on the cot beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, and you shifted as far away as you could, your back pressed against the tent wall. He didn’t seem to care, leaning back and kicking his boots off as if this were just another night.

“I told you last night. You’re gonna have to get used to this. To me.” His gaze flickered to you, lingering for a moment. “The sooner you do, the better.

You wanted to shout, to tell him how much you hated this, how much you hated him, but the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, paralyzed by fear, by helplessness.

“No,” you whispered, your voice cracking as the tightness in your chest made it hard to breathe. You said it again, louder this time. “No.”

His lips curled into a mocking smile, barely visible in the dim light. “Mhm... funny.”

He stretched out, reclining with one arm behind his head, and the weight of his presence filled the space between you like a physical force. Your body instinctively flinched as he purposefully spread his legs into your space, a quiet challenge in his movements.

“Go to sleep,” he muttered, his eyes half-lidded as if he were already drifting off. “We’ve got a long road ahead tomorrow, and you’ll need your rest.”

You barely had time to process his words before your mind went racing. Where!? Where were they taking you? Even more far from your family...what if they never will be able to find you?!

“W-where...?” You managed to croak, confusion creeping into your voice.

"Far, far away... to mountains and caves,” he said with an exaggerated flourish, his eyes twinkling as he gestured through the air. The dramatic gesture made you freeze, eyes wide with a mix of fear and disbelief.

He burst into a laugh, the sound echoing through the tent, thick with derision. “I’m just kidding, Princess. But it’s still gonna be far.”

His laughter faded as he leaned back on the cot, his casual tone not fading, he wanted to see the reaction again. “Though, if you really wanna go home,” he added with a shrug, his lips curling into a mocking smile, “you’re welcome to ask. Hell, I’ll even walk you to the edge of the camp myself. Let you find your way back. You’ll be easy pickings out there, though. Lots of nasty things in these woods, not all of them human. It’s just you and the big, wide world. Wolves , bears… maybe worse as in...bandits." His voice dipped lower, soft and dark, almost a whisper.

The insinuation hit you like a punch to the stomach, your throat tightening as panic crept in. He watched your reaction closely, his smirk widening as fear flickered across your face. “But maybe you’re braver than you look and stronger,” he said, almost teasing. “So, what’s it gonna be? Want me to toss you out right now? C'mon then, get up.” He grabbed your wrist which you instantly flinched away from.

You shook your head quickly, your voice breaking as you stammered, “No... no...please.."

“Good answer,” he drawled, reclining again, satisfied. “Smart girl.”

Your chest started heaving as you fought to steady your breathing. The tears came suddenly, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down your cheeks as you sat there, trembling. Another blow of his cruelty crashed into you, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Sobs wracked your body, sharp and desperate, as your chest heaved with the weight of it all.

“Please…stop, s-top it,” you whispered between sobs, your hands shaking as they gripped your hair as if you were going insane, Hell you already had. “I-I can’t...I just wanna go ho-me...ple-ase.”

Inside, something twisted painfully in his chest. He hated it, seeing you like this, fragile and terrified because of him.

Fuck fuck fuck--Just what the fuck is wrong with me?!

"Alright, alright," he muttered, his tone softer now. "No need to get all worked up. I...was jus'...I was jus' messing around."

Was I? Or was I about to do that?

You didn’t move and kept weeping and he felt that unfamiliar pang again. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, don’t cry, alright?" he said gruffly, almost annoyed with himself for caring. "I’m not gonna... leave you out here or.... anywhere."

When you still didn’t move, sobbing quietly, he muttered a curse under his breath.

"Lay down," he ordered, his voice low but not unkind.

"C'mon, jus' lay down, I...am sorry," he repeated, softer this time and gently, he eased you down onto the bedroll, your sobs still trembling through your body. He tugged the blanket over you, his hands lingering awkwardly before he sat back, watching you silently for a moment.

His jaw tightened as he listened to your broken sobs. The sound tormented him, louder than any scream, worse than any wound. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he stop himself from hurting you, only to hate himself when he did?

❀˖°

The long journey had ended, and the camp settled into its usual rhythm, dust hung in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of campfires and the distant rustle of wind through the brush. You sat by the tent, legs pulled tightly to your chest, trying to steady your breath. Every bone in your body ached from the relentless days of riding, your wrists still red and raw from how he'd gripped them during the trip. The journey had been brutal, with no rest, no kindness, only his clipped orders and the suffocating silence that surrounded you. Yet, there had been moments, brief and fleeting like the time on a cold morning, when he had given you one of his warmer coats, the thick leather lined with fur, his gruff voice commanding you to put it on. You had hesitated at first, but had no choice but to obey.

“Get up and go fetch me some coffee,” he ordered without even looking in your direction.

You didn’t respond right away. Your hands gripped the edge of the crate, your heart pounding in your chest. The idea of getting up, moving, doing anything for him was unbearable. You knew the drill, he could force you to do anything, but right now, in this moment, you wanted to pretend you had control over something, anything.

“No,” you retorted sharply, your voice hoarse.

"Excuse me?"

"I am not...your maid."

The next thing you knew, you were yanked off the crate, your body jerking against his iron grip. He dragged you by the arm, unceremoniously. The camp was alive with activity, and you felt every pair of eyes land on you. His grip tightened, making it impossible to escape, his voice low and cold in your ear.

"You think you get to refuse me? I don't think you understand, sweetheart. This is your life now."

He tugged you toward the large stew pot, where a man was stirring it. He looked up as you approached, and John gave a single, dismissive wave of his hand. "She’ll be working here, Pearson. You got it?"

Your stomach churned as you were forced to stand beside the stew pot, the acrid scent of boiled meat and thin broth filling the air. Your mind drifted, traitorously pulling you back to unreachable memories of a life far removed from this. Memories of sitting at a polished table, sunlight streaming through wide-open windows, and more than one dish laid out before you for breakfast alone, fluffy eggs, fresh fruit, steaming tea, and pastries you could barely finish.

Now, the single, unappetizing pot seemed almost mocking, its contents a reminder of how far you’d fallen. You blinked hard, willing the tears away, but they pricked at your eyes nonetheless, a lump forming in your throat

Everything here is going to taste nothing but broken dreams and grief to you.

"Now," he ordered, pushing you toward the cooking wagon. "Get used to the smell. Get used to the work. You want to know where you're going to spend most of your time Princess? This...right fucking here."

But John wasn’t done. He moved again, dragging you along with him to the laundry area.

"And here, you’ll wash the clothes. See how nice it looks? This is your world now, little by little. I don't care if you're tired. I don't care if you're angry. Nobody does. You’ll do what I tell you, or it’ll be worse for you."

His words were venomous, and they stung deeper than you cared to admit. The powerlessness of it all seemed to suffocate you, leaving you with nothing but the grinding reality of your situation.

He let go of your arm then, but still hovered over you.

"You can stay here and sulk if you want, but just know this," he added, his voice cold again. "You’re part of this family and there is a limit to where I and Dutch will tolerate your moodiness. He can be pissed too when he wants to be so don't embarrass me in front of others. And I don’t take kindly to disobedience. Not from you. Daddy must have spoiled you but here none of that shit happens."

You didn’t respond, but the pit in your stomach grew heavier. The space around you, the smell of the stew, the relentless noise of the camp, it all felt suffocating. You felt like you were drowning, your heart aching with every passing second.

"John! Stop it!" Sharp with panic, a voice broke through the suffocating fog of confusion that had clouded your mind. You turned, eyes blurry with tears, just in time to see Annabelle rush to your side. Her presence was like a shield, her arms wrapping around you as she positioned herself between you and him. "As if you already hadn't disappointed me enough! Get fuckin' lost right now!."

Their argument became muffled as you stood there, breath shallow, heart pounding. Everything that had happened, everything you had lost, overwhelmed you. You thought back to that final day with your family, the day that now felt like a distant, unreachable dream.

Why had you taken everything for granted? The simple comforts, the warmth of your home, the sound of your mother’s scolding, your father’s jokes, their laughter that filled the air. How you longed to hear those things again, to feel their embrace, to be wrapped in the safety of your old life.

You closed your eyes, letting the memories flood your mind. Mama… The name escaped your lips in a breathless whimper, and you clutched at Annabelle desperately, as though she could somehow give you back everything you had lost.

Annabelle's arms tightened around you, her face hardening with a scowl as she glared at John. She didn’t need to say anything. The fury in her eyes spoke volumes. But in that moment, you felt like you were in a world of your own, lost in the painful yearning for a life that no longer existed.

"I can’t," you whispered, the words barely a sound. "I can’t… be here. I want to go home. I beg you.."

Annabelle’s grip on you softened slightly, but she didn't let go. She didn’t have the words to ease the ache in your chest, but she had the strength to offer you something, a shield, a comfort, even if it wasn’t enough to erase the crushing weight of your new life.

John stood there, a silent observer for now, but you knew the storm was far from over. Every moment with him felt like a battle, and you were too broken, too tired, to fight anymore. You thought yourself crumbling once again.

Annabelle whispered something to you, comforting words, but they were lost in the haze of your thoughts.

God, this is heart breaking to watch, why can't it be just a piece of cake? Why are you making it so hard?

But John knew it wasn't your fault, not in the slightest. He couldn't take it anymore so he turned, his boots heavy against the dirt floor of the camp and walked away with a grumble, disappearing into the shadows of the camp, leaving you behind in the dimming light, holding onto whatever remnants of dignity you had left.

Annabelle, still by your side, squeezed you tighter, her expression hardened as she watched John leave. Her voice was a whisper, a promise, as she comforted you in the only way she knew how. "I am here, alright. Don't be afraid. We’ll get through this... together."

❀˖°

John lay on his back in the dimly lit tent, the muted crackle of the campfire outside casting faint, flickering shadows across the canvas walls. He knew you were awake. His gaze shifted downward, catching on your hands where they rested near your chest. The bangles on your wrists glinted faintly in the low light, the same ones you hadn’t been allowed to remove. But it wasn’t the jewelry that held his attention. It was the raw, chapped skin of your fingers under the shadow of the blanket, evidence of the cold and the endless work you’d been made to do. Not to mention your shivering...

With a quiet sigh, John sat up, the bedroll creaking under his weight. He stood, the night air slipping into the tent as he stepped outside. A few moments later, he returned, a spare blanket draped over one arm. Without a word, he leaned over, laying it carefully across you.

He laid back down with a soft huff, his hands laced behind his head as he stared at the canvas ceiling above. Silence stretched between you, but it didn’t last.

"I know," he murmured, his voice low but steady. "It’s probably a nightmare for you. Not exactly the fairytale you might’ve dreamed of...I mean...I would be the last person you would even imagine yourself to be with..." He chuckled, the sound bitter and humorless. "But it’s real. And it’s done. There’s nothing that can be done about it now."

His head turned slightly, enough that you could feel the weight of his gaze even though you couldn't see it. "What do you want? For me to throw you out? To let you go back? You think that’s an option? Because it’s not. Believe it or not but...it ain't some tradition...it's a commitment and... I’ve taken on a responsibility, and I’m willing to see it through. But not if you keep acting like this."

The cycle was obvious to him now.

He gets gentle with you, just for a moment, and you start acting up, that defiant spark in your eyes resurfacing. Then he gets pissed, and you get scared. And that fear? Those tears? They make him more fucking pissed.

Your tense back beside him seemed to beckon, and he found himself turning toward you, his hand hovering hesitantly. His fingers twitched, itching to close the space between you, but for a fleeting second, something strange held him back. Fear? Doubt? Is he doing this then? He brushed the thought aside, refusing to examine it further.

When his hand finally settled on your waist, you immediately swatted it away, which he both expected and loathed. He placed it back, this time firmer, pulling you against him.

"Listen here,” he muttered, his voice low, close to your ear. “If you start to accept it, this, us, I might even take you to see your family...” He let the words out, unsure himself if they were a genuine promise or just another thread of control. But right now, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to feel the soft warmth of you against him, to revel in the fleeting sense of peace it gave him. He wanted to test all of this out...unravel this sweet chaos he had caused.

Damn, the warmth, the softness, the scent. Mhm. Not...bad... I could get used to this.

“Got it?” he whispered, his lips almost brushing your ear. You didn’t answer, only buried your face into the pillow with a shaky nod. A smirk tugged at his lips, satisfaction blooming in his chest and e tightened his arm around you.

"Good, that's what I thought, Princess." This time, his voice lacked its usual taunting edge, carrying a note of unexpected softness instead.

"Or should I say, Mrs. Marston.."

He buried his face into your hair and neck, sighing at the softness, and his mind, as if on its own, pictured it almost too vividly...even when he tried to stop himself.

Children with your eyes but his resolve running through the camp, the echoes of their laughter filling the space he once thought too hollow to hold anything but emptiness.

He always wanted a family, a real one. Something steady, something lasting. What he craved for himself as a kid. And maybe if he had that, people would finally start to see him as more than some reckless kid. As a man. A mature, responsible man.

Responsibility... That was what he needed, wasn’t it? Something to ground him. A driving force to keep him steady, to give all of this chaos some kind of meaning.

His legacy, carved into this broken world. Something that wouldn’t burn away with the next heist or the next score.

And when he came back from dangerous jobs, when the blood and the dirt weighed heavy on his shoulders, what then? A man’s eyes needed to see somethin’ peaceful after all that. Not just poker cards and stolen loot. No, he’d need somethin’ better. Like....you, rocking his kids to sleep in your arms. Their tiny fists clutching at your shirt, your voice humming low to calm them.

You’d resist at first, of course, you would, and damn it, that only made the thought burn brighter. He could see it so clearly, the defiance in your eyes softening with time, with understanding. And then, after a while, you wouldn’t be able to fight it anymore.

He swallowed hard, the image filling his mind. The thought of you, his woman, his wife, with his child.

He smirked in the dim light, his grip tightening and his chest rumbling with a hum, " You'd make a fine mother. Yeah...they’d be beautiful. Tough, too. With my grit and your… well, everything else.”

Your body stiffened instantly in disgust and terror. The thought sent a cold wave of dread through you, the very idea of this made you sick to your stomach. “No way in hell,” you hissed, your voice sharper than you intended.

John stilled for a moment, the smile slipping from his face. The quiet that followed was dangerous. Then, slowly, he shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to overtop you.

"Say that again." His voice was quiet, too quiet, but the simmering anger beneath it was impossible to miss.

"I said, no way in hell. No. I’m not… I won’t…you are insane to think-"

His hand slid to your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You think you get a say in this, Princess?"

You tried to turn your face away, but his hold tightened just enough to make you freeze. He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "I’ll make you see it my way, one way or another. You’ll thank me for it one day when they’re calling you Mama and lookin’ up at you like you hung the fuckin' stars."

He let go of your chin harshly. Turning back onto his side, he muttered under his breath.

"Might be the only thing that keeps your mind away from your home. A family. My family."

(AN: Guys, this is a one-shot, so please don't ask for more parts. I've also said in comments that I will only write scenarios about it. The Arthur one is a fic; you can check that one out.)

[mothwingwritings]

H and J for jack, please 💗

More for our darling Jack! <3 TY for the ask anon!

Warnings: Violence, mentions of forced cohabitation, mentions of drug use, Jack being overbearing and not giving you any damn autonomy.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

In general, all the violence that surrounds Jack would be horrid for you. I feel like most of the Baki men would try and shelter you a bit from the more savage aspects of their lives, but Jack not so much. He relishes having you witness it. It excites him knowing you are watching, pumping him up more than any drug ever could. Sure there is also an aspect of fear, concern that you may get caught in the cross fire and get yourself hurt, but that’s exactly why he keeps you under a tight guard. No one in their right mind is going to fuck with you when he’s around, and if they are dumb enough to try they won’t be making it out of that altercation alive.

You’ve had front row seats to all of Jack’s fights and have been a firsthand witness to more carnage than anyone ever should. You’ve seen all manner of snapped and broken bones, gazed into faces so badly beaten you can barely recognize them as human, glimpsed torn and bruised flesh through the slits of your fingers when you’d try and hide behind your hands. After a while you hoped you would at least get somewhat used to it, but you found out quickly that the brutality Jack inflicts on his targets is not something you will ever be able to be indifferent towards. Each fight he morphs into a monster, driven by a lust for blood and havoc.  His eyes instinctively search for your each time he sinks his teeth into one of his victims, the excitement reflected in them when he sees you watching him mangle someone is the stuff of nightmares.

After he’s done butchering whatever poor soul has crossed his path, he’ll seek you out and hold you, breathing heavily as he crushes your body against his own. His blood and sweat mix with the remnants of his victims, smearing across your body as he forces himself on you as a victory prize. It never matters how hard or long you scrub once you get home, you always feel dirty long afterwards.

Also, the living conditions are pretty awful. His lifestyle was not something that was easy to hide from you before, but it was impossible to hide now that he has you holed up with him. It’s not that he’s a slob or confines you to some dank room, but your new home is not very… welcoming. What with the sparsely decorated interior (Jack doesn’t really have the time or energy for such things), rampant drug use and obsessive exercise habits, living with Jack lacks the warmth, love, and security and that sorely miss from your own home.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He doesn’t really get jealous so much as he is extremely overprotective. He’ll let you hang out with just about anyone, even people he hates or distrusts (which is more or less every friend you have). Just know that he’s going to be there hanging out with you, every time. Because the best way to make sure you are safe and not being taken advantage of is tag along with you, right? He sees it as a win win-not only will he be able to spend time with you, but he also acts a great deterrent should anyone try and mess with you. And on top of that, he gets to take stock of the people you surround yourself with. He isn’t shy about voicing his opinion on your acquaintances either, and his curt manner and standoffish persona make things very uncomfortable very quickly whenever he joins in on your hang out sessions.

And God he has SO MANY rules when it comes to you interacting with other people. If you are planning on visiting someone IRL, Jack has to be there. You can’t go to their home, but you also don’t want them coming over to yours (If Jack would even allow them past the front door). If you are texting, he’s over your shoulder reading them. If you are on the phone, he’s listening. In fact, you can’t even have your phone if Jack isn’t around.

He makes it so awkward that eventually you give up and decide to drastically limit communication with your family and friends, just to give yourself a break from his tyrannical digging into your personal affairs. Jack takes this as a good sign, choosing to see it as you picking up on just how unworthy of your time these people are. The fewer idiots around you the less he has to worry.

On the flip side though, if you put up a fuss and try to go off on him for being too domineering he will start to lose his patience with you and take a more drastic approach to deal with the issue, and it will not be anything remotely good for either you or your loved ones. But you’re smart, and he knows you’ll come around and see eye to eye with him sooner rather than later. It’d be a shame if someone got hurt because you were being stubborn, wouldn’t it?

[zealofchronos]

Hiii!! Today marks the eventful return of Bones Anon. The last thing you wrote for me was absolutely fucking fantastic I still keep going back to read it!!

I see you've been writing a lot of genshin lately but I've never played that game so I am going back to Pokemon.

I want to steal Raihan's big hoodie so fucking bad. I just think it would be so comfy. I know I can buy one irl but I'm a broke bitch™ and it's usually too hot to justify wearing a sweater where I live.

So, if you're willing to write it, perhaps a nice little fic of Raihan discovering his bf enjoys snatching his hoodie? And deciding that he is very willing to go without his signature hoodie just to let him wear it.

Bonus points for fluffy shenanigans w/ Raihan teasing the reader and the reader snarking right back?? Just two smug bastards being smug to eachother (affectionately)

Bonus bonus points if reader is also tall as fuck and the hoodie actually fits them, because I see a whole lot of short reader and I want more rep for my lanky ass!! /j

Anyways thank u in advance I think ur cool as fuck

- 🦴

wahoo !! hello hello, bones anon ! ♡♡

truth be told, i already wrote this a long time ago, a while after i first saw it, but my uploading motivation went down the drain >< i've mostly been lurking on tumblr a lot and reading loads of things, but today i am here to do this ask justice by sifting in my docs and pouring out what you've asked for!

never steal from a dragon, but i'll do it anyway! ;; raihan x male reader

contents ;- fluff , sfw , established romantic relationship , tall reader ! , playful banter , please do not leave the stove unattended while cooking ^^;

proofread by @elvenxwarrior , who made sure the fic was "sufficiently british" ! ♡

Galar was peaceful these days to say the least, with Eternatus being captured and a new champion rising to the throne, there’s a lot that has changed. But it was still all the same, with beautiful days to be lived out, and a multitude of things to do. Be it befriend the Pokemon that were in the wild, or find incredible treasures on a long lasting journey. Or, perhaps, run a gym in a big city.

Morning sun rose over the streets of Hammerlocke, a beautiful city with a brilliant feel. All visitors would marvel at the architecture, from the middle aged stone walls to the historical lineage behind it. But in every city, there are homes- and today, we zoom in on a cosy little den- yours!

After much contemplation, you’ve decided to make a home in this city, for one very obvious reason.

Golden rays peeked through the blinds, day barely beginning but you’re already begging for a few more minutes in. It seems someone could agree, soft snores coming from none other than the city’s gym leader himself- Raihan, who laid next to you. His arms loosely wrapped around your body, holding you close as you could only suffer in silence, succumbing to his comforting grip paired with his almost ridiculous sleeping habits.

Perhaps it was because he dealt with dragons, or because he was always busy with something- be it training, or working out. Maybe he’s tired himself out to the point of dropping dead asleep the moment his head hits the pillow every night, or he’s swallowed too much sand in those sandstorms he conjured up in the stadium ( his mouth was always open, never shut even during those moments- it’s a wonder how he hasn’t gotten any in his lungs by now )… Or perhaps it’s only around you that he finds a moment of peace to just let go of all of his worries and simply enjoy the moment.

You weren’t exactly doing anything- you were merely just another trainer, but you were lucky enough to snatch away the heart of this untamed dragon. Perhaps, you could say that was the first thing you ever stole from him. Because you weren’t about to stop now!

Thanks to Raihan being such a deep sleeper, you easily slipped out of his hold. It was a lazy day today- the gym didn’t have to be open, but it probably wouldn’t stop your energetic boyfriend from rushing over there as soon as he got the chance. So, you decided to take it slow for now, because if it came down to it, you could definitely convince him to just relax for the day.

First matter of the day was simply getting ready, heading straight to the bathroom to take care of yourself. Morning bed hair? Fixed with a quick combing through. Smelly breath? Gone with a simple brush. Clothes?

…Clothes always proved to be the most difficult thing of the morning. What exactly would you wear today? The Hammerlocke City Gym Leader seemed to rub off on you, now taking into account what you’d wear for the day more often than not. Right now, you just stood there in your pyjamas- and that should change really quickly. But what would you wear after?

Returning to your currently shared bedroom, you glanced around as though a new sight might help jog up those brain cells to work a bit better. Well, there was the bare back of your boyfriend, a blanket barely covering him up as he found a pillow to replace your missing warmth. He had such defined muscles, yet you weren’t here to gawk. But the sight alone gave you what you thought was a brilliant idea. Your eyes scanned the room a little further, catching sight of the familiar piece of clothing on the floor of your room.

Raihan’s hoodie.

Oh, this was perhaps his own treasure that nobody has ever seen him without. Well, nobody but you of course. But now it was time for it to be stolen away- It feels just like that one series you saw before, where a group of thieves steal away one’s treasure to change their hearts! But you’re not here to change his heart of course, you’d prefer if his heart stayed yours, as yours remained his.

You spared the sleeping Raihan one last glance before smirking, immediately putting on the nice hoodie after tossing your pyjama shirt off. It fit quite nicely around you, but that was merely because you were just shy of the gym leader’s height. It was a blessing, really, because it meant you didn’t have to get on your tiptoes just to kiss him, or he didn’t have to bend down to an atrociously low level just to meet your eyes. Then again, it’s not like he isn’t used to crouching down- I mean, you’ve seen his battle stance, whenever he gets a little heated in the middle of a match. It’s a little hot, you could say, but since when is he not?

Now, it was time to carry on with your day, singing praises for your beloved boyfriend could come later!

Next came breakfast, and what better breakfast than… well, a big one? It was common for you and your boyfriend to eat your fill. After all, he needed all the energy to get through his day, and to start it all with a nice boost was great! Thankfully, your fridge was stocked with all sorts of things that you both liked, but it seemed today, the flour in your cabinets and eggs in your fridge called for you- the decision was made in your head, it’s time to make waffles! And as if that wasn’t enough, you pulled out the sausages from the freezer, and a few other things to make a not-so-lazy-but-still-kinda-lazy breakfast. At this point, could you even call it that? Oh, who gives a damn.

“ ‘tuuun…” The low rumble of a certain Pokemon sounded from below you, a beloved Appletun- your beloved Appletun, actually. It seems that she finally woke up from her own slumber, coming to check out what you were doing. Fortunately, you had just placed the kettle to brew, or else you might’ve tripped over the poor thing. Having a moment to spare, you decided to give her a little treat, and of course some much deserved pets before continuing to cook away some good breakfast.

It wasn’t until much later when a bunch of delightful smells filled your house did you hear a loud yawn from your room. It was quite obvious who it was, and you could only roll your eyes at how late he woke up. But it’s no matter, you would much prefer it this way, after all. Not long after, you finally heard his footsteps, and it was nice that he decided to actually get up and see you. You could only laugh to yourself over that, looking after a few things in the pan to make sure they didn’t burn.

“Hey, babe, have you seen my hood… ie,” that familiar voice slowly died down as he stepped right into the open space, eyes widening the best they can whilst still somewhat groggy and in much need of some more time with you. “...Stealin’ from me, ay?” A shirtless Raihan questioned, snorting a little as his eyes scanned you up and down. This was quite the unusual sight for him, but it… wasn’t unwelcome at all.

“Yer’ callin’ me a thief? I think you should check who left it lyin’ on my floor,” Your soft laughter filled the air, leaving the stove for a moment to get the hot water into a mug with a tea bag. “Tell ya’ what, I’ll trade you a cup of tea for it, eh, ehhh?” Doing your best to sound convincing, you held out the nice mug of tea to him. It was your favourite mug at that, actually, and you would never use it to serve anyone else. By your right mind, this was a mighty fine trade!

“I dunno… You still took it from me, y’know,” Raihan’s gaze sharpened momentarily, deciding that if anything, he might as well try. I mean, he’s done that a lot, trying despite many fruitless attempts. By many, you could say exactly ten.

“And I’m offerin’ something to you in return! Fair’s fair.”

“No ‘s not.”

“Yes it is.”

It was now a somewhat endless back and forth, both of you repeating the same thing as neither of you wanted to give up. Was it tiring? Not at all. You could do this all day with him. Actually, you probably did this everyday with him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. After a moment of contemplation, you finally decided to up the deal to something he can’t refuse…

“Fine, a nice cuppa’ aaand… a kiss from yours truly..~” You hummed, wiggling your eyebrows as though that was the best deal you could ever possibly give him. And truth be told, it was. You don’t think there was ever a day that his lips didn’t touch yours, except for the days before you started dating. It was the perfect pick up for him, maybe even better than a cup of tea alone.

“Hmm, you have yourself a convincing trade offer, babe,” Raihan crossed his arms as you slowly approached with your favourite mug in hand. That sweet smile on your face was something he wanted to wipe off, but only in one specific way.

“So? Made up yer’ mind or am I keeping my lips to myself?” You questioned almost impatiently, a hand on your hip as you set the mug down on the countertop nearby. Before you knew it, he had his arms around your waist, coming up oh so close to you.

With his eyes slowly fluttering shut, Raihan leaned in. He’s memorised everything, from how long it takes to get his lips to yours, to how to fit his arms around you.

“Takin’ my kiss first,” He proclaimed right before dipping his head down a little, his lips meeting yours. It was sweet and tender, just like any other time. Sure, he was wild and maybe a little reckless at times, but when you were in his arms, he found a way to let himself soften up a bit. He loved you to bits, after all.

Your arms wound around him in return, savouring the lovely morning you were having. It was a great day already, especially with the delicious view you were having. Soon your hands wandered a little, and you could feel him chuckle against your lips.

“Hands off the merchandise,” his eyes fluttered open with a soft laugh, followed by a mischievous snicker of your own when he swatted away your hands. “Greedy lil’ bugger,” He added, but you both knew that you were his greedy lil’ bugger.

“Oh, you know you love it,” You rolled your eyes, laughter definitely a bit too loud for the morning, but you couldn’t care less.

Raihan grabbed his tea, pretty much gulping it down despite the lack of sugar in it. It was already a bit cold, so there’d be no use in putting in any anyway. “I love it just as much as I like you in that, y’know,” the gym leader commented, eyes sweeping up and down your figure once again in the most obvious manner. He just really wanted you to know that he was checking you out, because goddamn, he’s wondering why he didn’t lend you any of his spare hoodies before this. “Guess I can go without the hoodie for the day.”

“Oh, for real?” Almost amused, you had to just make sure. Raihan simply nodded again, coming up to sneak an arm around your waist once more as he pressed his lips to your head and–

Click!

“Oi–?!” The sound of the shutter going off meant only one thing. Your head turned, whipping around to see Raihan’s Rotom phone flying behind you as it just took a picture. That sneaky lil-

“Aaand posted!” The gym leader chuckled as he dove in once more, pressing another quick kiss to your cheek. “And that’s another two kisses I stole from you, heh,” He snickered away, quietly shutting off any notifications from the post he just uploaded. He’ll deal with people questioning that he’s not single later, when he’s done messing with his lovable boyfriend.

“What the ‘ell!?” You weren’t mad at all, really, but you were really bewildered by the fact that he just did that. You expected many things, but that was not one of them.

“Ha! Look at yer’ face right now..!” He laughed a little more, before pulling out something that his silly brain could come up with. “Don’t be mad now, darling,” he paused, the nickname that he calls you when he likes to tease slipping past his lips. “Just wanted to show the world that I’m not on the market, y’know. Because someone stole my hoodie and… my heart.”

Oh, well, there was another thing you didn’t expect. Sure, you two had your playful little fights every now and then, but Raihan never failed to be smooth when he needed to be, and it always left you a little speechless.

“I… you… wh–”

But before you could actually get any words out, an annoying beep resounded from over the stove. You turned over to check and…

Shit.

Well, there goes breakfast.

Now you had to scramble over and salvage what you can, and being a wee bit of a useless bugger himself, Raihan simply stood there and laughed it off. Oh, he’ll see who’s laughing when you decide to ‘‘steal’’ from him again.

[iridescentdove]

Hey hey!! Can I request a Nikolai and fyodor (separate) x reader who’s really into photography and takes a lot of photos of them! Then gets super embarrassed if they catch them?

Nikolai & Fyodor x Photographer! Reader

The serene sound of a camera clicking as you relish in the peaceful autumn breeze. It was quiet, and calm – just as you always liked it. The scene was beautiful.

There was nothing better than you, your beloved, and your precious camera as you took photos under the warm sun.

NIKOLAI GOGOL:

For quite a while now, Nikolai has been seeing you with your precious phone or camera all the time. He hasn't seen you without it nowadays.

Well, it sparked his curiosity – but he did know you had a knack for these kind of things now.

And honestly, he really likes your shots! It's always taken beautifully and the photo is clear as day. Most of the time you don't really show him, but special occassions you do.

You took a little photo of a bird eating once!

Nikolai was ecstatic when looking through them. There's a small sparkle in his eyes no one would have ever seen.

The fluffy, rare white birdies that flock around as you fed them. He loves it. Jing Yuan??

One day, you both decided to have a picnic. Just for fun, and to value the precious time you guys had while still free. Lots of snacks and ice cream!

Of course, pictures. You took lots of them. From the birds in the sky to the food you had made yourself.

Although they were beautiful, nothing compares to Nikolai.

The soft, golden glow around his body – the sun making his features similar to that of an angels. Oh! How handsome he is. The genuine, warm smile on his face blooming in joy.

You were at a loss for words. He was just too pretty to be true. All you could do...was raise your camera.

Well, you did try to be sneaky. Try.

Seeing him staring at the vast blue of the sky was a perfect angle in all honesty. But he looked the moment you took it.

And i now present to you, a teasing Nikolai.

He is downright DISRESPECTFUL when it comes to being a teasing, pretty boy of a lad like him. He stares at you with a glint of his green eyes, and you were dead right then since.

"Oh! Does my sweet birdy find me a photograph-worthy sight? Hm~?" He inches closer, face full of mischief.

You're just...flaming red. He's not even flirting man, that's overrated. Dazai crying in the corner

Although he does pester you to show him the glorious photo, you do so either way. And both of you enjoy looking at them all, smiles on your faces.

Since irl he's inspired by a writer, i headcanon he points to each photo and creates a small little story for it <3 cute!

And for the meme worthy photos...

Let's just say both of your stomachs hurt for laughing so much at his jokes. Uses random Gen Z humor he learned

"The bird shat respectfully. The manz was too stunned to speak, poo-poo on his rizz-worthy head."

In other words, it was a successful picnic ;)

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

You'd never catch this mf off guard, EVER. It's so rare if you actually do, super incredibly rare.

Once in a blue moon.

But he appreciates it. Your love language is almost just sending him cute photos at this point, whether it be of you both or just him.

He's a hacker. I'd bet he hacks into your camera just to look at the shots himself bitch

Then again, you never fail to make his heart boom-boom. For a special occassion like his birthday or christmas, you'd prepare the gift wholeheartedly.

You'll print out the most prettiest photos of him you could find, and design it with aesthetic stickers and notes <3

It was the fanciest photo-card + letter he's ever seen.

Obviously rat, that's our gn kween (y/n)

And you may think he never appreciates it due to his calm and sadistic demeanor, but this man keeps it in his room and looks at it everyday with an actual genuine smile.

He'll never admit it, only when he probably feels romantic which is uh...let's countdown to 2738282 years /j

When you're just hanging out with him while he works, you just take photos for fun. His office may seem dark but your camera brings justice good phone? couldn't be me

But one particular time, you decided to attempt and be sneaky to take his photo.

The position he was in was perfect, so it was time.

You really thought you had it in the bag too. He just chuckles the moment you put the camera on him, and he turns around as you click.

You wanna strangle his ass <3

But oh hell, he's gonna be sly. Smirking at you all the while seeing your cute face turn completely red.

"милы��, you seem to be enjoying yourself. Why not do a photo face-to-face?" He whispers, looking straight into your eyes as you nesrly die in fluster.

He's definitely having his fun teasing you, playing it out and making you look like a simp.

But the moment he stands up, fucking run

You're not making out of it alive the moment he gets his hands on that camera. He's merciless when it comes to teasing his bbg (ew /j)

Then again, at times he'll lie down with you peacefully, looking at the photos in silence.

He'll love every shot taken because it's you.

[crazylittlejester]

DAILY BRAINROT

I greatly appreciate our brainrot time because otherwise I think I would go bonkers and I don't think my IRL friends can handle this level of brainrot. If any of them find my Ao3 or Tumblr by some miracle, I would perish on the spot. They don't need to know.

Anyway, I am obsessed with Legend's little brother vibes. He's like the older middle child. Can be responsible when he needs/wants to, but otherwise prefers being a thorn in the oldest's side. He's a stupid little goofball and I love that for him. I need him to team up with Time for a dumb prank because who would expect The Hero of Legend and The Hero of Time to do something like that??

Slightly related to that, I love it when he's a twin in modern AUs. LOVE IT. But what I want is for him to be Warriors' twin and Hyrule to be Wind's twin (or something close to that). I think it would be a good combination, especially if it's something like a mixed family dynamic where Legend and Warriors end up being brothers with Hyrule and Wind for some random reason so it goes from your regular older brother and younger brother dynamic to the younger brother suddenly dealing with his own younger brothers pestering him. Less accidental baby acquisition, more accidental younger brother acquisition.

(I will end up writing this because I'm crazy, we all know it, there's no point in denying it at this point.)

I also keep thinking about the War of Eras stuff and like... it's always a time paradox. It's always a time paradox. I can't get the idea of the guys teaching each other things, it's too sweet. Like, don't you have to wonder if Warriors teaches Wind how to do first aid because Tune taught him first? It's probably more likely he learned from someone else, but it's a thought. I'm slowly dying on the inside thinking about how much Tune would do for the captain because he wants to return the favor and ldjkgdfgjdirjgdlgrijgdlirjfdrijtelkjfd--

I genuinely appreciate the daily brainrots so much too 😭 like i come home at the end of a long day and i get excited to see it come in my inbox aslkgkjhg. i got a few people irl who know im bat shit on tumblr and on ao3, my fuckin fiancee literally follows this blog and i know they don’t check it often but i do live in the fear of the day i get a text or call about some super specific odd ass shit post i made🧍‍♂️and then one of my best friends reads Fierce Hero 9, which is honestly fucking hilarious to me because she knew NOTHING about LU when she started reading it (i only recently convinced her to join the dark side /j), she just heavily fucks with big hero 6, and yknow what i respect that. but if my COLLEGE friends ever found this blog?? killing myself immediately. killing myself, deleting the blog, and moving to the other side of the planet actually. and my family knows I write fanfiction but if they ever read or found it?? theres not a group of people on this earth who would be able to find me, my ass would be GONE.

I LOVE LEGEND AND HIS STUPID LITTLE BROTHER ENERGY IT’S SO EVERYTHING TO ME. he’s a little shit and we need to all talk about that more 😔 LEGEND AND TIME WORKING TOGETHER ON A PRANK?? OH MY GOD. IT’D BE FUCKING OVER FOR EVERYONE ELSE. THEY’D GET AWAY WITH IT AND POOR HYRULE, WILD, OR WIND WOULD END UP GETTING BLAMED 😭

oh my god i never not once even thought of Legend and Wars being twins. I guess part of it is cos i headcanon they got like a literal decade between em, and i never thought about making them that close in age, let alone the SAME age. Even in my modern au’s, Wars is 2-3 years older. Them as twins would be SO fucking funny though oh my GOD. ACCIDENTAL BROTHER ACQUISITION, IM GONNA BE FUCKIN USING THAT OH MY GOD AKNSKJSNKJSN

(write it and my life is yours /ref)

oh my god i love war of eras trio time paradoxes so fucking much. SOOOO fucking much. Just the idea of Wars teaching Wind some little thing and then Tune having that knowledge to help Captain Link?? EATING IT UP. Or Wind being the world’s biggest shit to Time and him absolutely RUTHLESSLY clapping back, just for Tune to pull the EXACT same soul destroying comeback seemingly out of his ass to hit Mask with when Mask decides to be a snarky little shit. Who started it? We’ll never know

[jellyfishdoodler]

One of my DnD characters- Reed Quarium! He's a human wizard in a fantastical Lovecraftian steampunk world setting, campaign run by my friend irl (please quit college and come back I miss my boy and the plot was just getting good /J)

Reed is a very intelligent young man who lets that get to his head way too much. He's cocky and a little arrogant, but damn he is actually smart. His family invented the at-home aquarium and has been making bank ever since installing elaborate tanks- as well as doing some deep sea exploration and research for new species of ocean critters. And his older brother is the head priest of a temple he was divinely told to build. So Reed comes from a family of self-made prestige and has a LOT to live up to. So he begged to go to the largest school in the big city to learn everything he could about magic.

He developed a method of distilling magic/ spellslots into a compressed form- which can be stored in glass marbles to be used for later. They are very expensive in resources and time and VERY DIFFICULT TO MAKE, but it allows him to have extra prepared and ready to use spells in his literal back pocket. On top of that, he's a tinkerer by nature and loves fiddling with mechanics and clockwork. Eventually making a small-dog-sized floating clockwork goldfish to be his familiar and best friend (this boy LOVES his pet goldfish and couldn't let him go, okay?)

I can't get too much into his backstory because spoilers for the other players (I see you lol)- but what I can say is that at the start of the campaign, he was introduced with no immediate memory of how he got into this situation- while being pinned down by guards and being stripped of his supplies and spell book. With one marble cracked between his teeth, he literally spits a spell at the police and manages to flee- bumping into one of the party members and using a scroll to turn himself into a goldfish. The member was shocked suddenly holding a fishbowl as the remaining guard asks where he is, and gets misdirected. From there the party meet and get stuck with each other, Reed finds out he's missing a gap of about 5 years of memory, and they're off on an adventure trying to uncover some devious cult shit!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Your plushie gift headcannon was adorable, can I get the same thing for the entire team 404

(GFL) AR Team and Squad 404's S/O making a plushie of them

(AR Team) M4A1, ST AR-15, M4 SOPMOD II, M16A1, RO635

(Squad 404) UMP45, UMP9, G11, and HK416

I desperately wish for plushies of the T-Dolls IRL.

M4 smiles delightfully upon seeing the stuffed T-Doll, failing to contain her giggle.

(M4A1) "This is adorable, S/O!"

The green strands of cloth stood out among the darker colors, the face expressing a soft smile, much like her own.

(S/O) "Do you like it?"

(M4A1) "I love it, what's the occasion?"

(S/O) "Just...a charm I guess, for good luck. If I made you anything to take out in the field, it'd probably get damaged, so I figured I could make something in your dorm!"

(M4A1) "I'll make sure to take good care of it!"

M4 has the plushie in between a picture of her and S/O and one of the AR Team.

STAR chuckles when S/O hands her a plushie of herself, noting how comfortable it felt in her hands. Well, her sensors anyway.

There was something endearing about human handmade items rather than factory produced.

(ST AR-15) "Quite the striking resemblance."

STAR remarks in an amused tone as soon as she notices the plushie with a very annoyed look.

(S/O) "Had to stare at my reference quite a bit."

(ST AR-15) "Heh, so I've noticed. I'll make sure it doesn't get dusty."

STAR hides the plushie under her blanket, not wanting to get teased by the rest of the AR Team, specifically by M16A1 or SOPMOD.

SOPMOD squeals upon seeing her plushie, squeezing it tightly and then admiring the little details.

Her face was possibly the most expressive she had seen, the eyes were giant white circles, and the mouth was a smug squiggle.

(S/O) "Like it?"

(SOPMOD) "LOVE IT! It's soooo cute!"

She quickly takes S/O into a hug, one that threatened to be spine shattering with how hard she held them.

(SOPMOD) "I wish I could take it with me into battle, but it'll watch over me when I go to sleep!"

SOPMOD holds onto it when she sleeps with zero shame in whoever sees it, bragging about S/O's craftsmanship to any T-Doll or human personnel who asks about it.

M16's eye goes wide as she sees what S/O has given to her.

The plushie was lovingly recreated, the scar and eyepatch were there, so was her case, and a tiny bottle of jack daniel's in its hand.

Though the facial expression made her look drunk, which wasn't entirely inaccurate.

(M16A1) "Do I really look like that when I drink?"

(S/O) "Eh, not really. Figured I'd take some artistic liberties, so to speak."

(M16A1) "I think it made the end result better."

She laughs and kisses her S/O on the cheek.

(M16A1) "Little me is cute, thanks S/O!"

The plushie sits next to M16's pillow in the dorm, showing it off to M4A1 and excitedly talking about how awesome it was to her.

RO is immediately flustered when S/O presents a tinier version of herself.

(RO635) "W-What is this?"

(S/O) "It's a tinier you!"

She admires how much of her features transferred over to such a small stuffed toy, but she can't help but be a bit shy as well.

That meant that was a lot of time staring at her when she didn't realize and other T-Dolls certainly have.

She bashfully accepts the gift and making sure to smile. RO was genuinely happy to receive something so thoughtful, and it made her start thinking of how to pay S/O back immediately.

(RO635) "I'll treasure it always, S/O. J-Just, please don't mention this to the rest of the AR Team, okay?"

RO makes sure to hide where only she can see it and no one else can ever find it. She would not be able to live down M16 seeing her with something so..."cutesy", as M16 would say.

45 starts laughing the moment S/O presents a miniature version of herself.

A whole plushie of herself kind of defeats the point of being in a Black Ops Unit, seeing as she wasn't supposed to exist in any capacity.

But, she's willing to make an exception.

(UMP45) "Heh, even the plush looks smug."

(S/O) "I wonder where it got that from?"

(UMP45) "Couldn't say.~"

She makes sure to take care of the plush whenever she's back in her dorm, finding herself staring at it with a soft smile more than once.

UMP9 gasps in excitement the moment she lays her eyes on the plush, inspecting it with great enthusiasm as she made sure to stand close to S/O.

(UMP9) "Oh, you even got my hair right! And the smile is really cute too!"

(S/O) "I had to make sure to get the most important details, after all!"

She gives S/O a big hug as she continues to admire the plush.

(UMP9) "I love it! Now, how about I try to make a plushie of you? That way tiny me can have her lover too?"

(S/O) "You know how to make plush dolls?"

(UMP9) "Hm...Not really, but I'm sure I can do it if I tried hard enough!"

Upon making a quite scuffed version of S/O, she has it sit lovingly next to her own plush. Both of them always remain without a single speck of dust.

(G11) "Hm...S/O, why did you wake me u-?"

11's drowsy eyes suddenly become wide awake the moment she sees a miniature version of herself.

Slowly grabbing it and examining it, the details begin to make themselves known as she slowly wakes herself up.

(S/O) "I thought your body pillow could use a bit of company!"

(G11) "...I like it a lot."

Her voice was still very quiet, but the smile on her face was very noticeable.

(G11) "If that was it, I'll sleep with the plushie right now."

Whenever she sleeps (which was extremely often), she hugs onto the plushie, as well as her body pillow. Sometimes S/O too, if there was space.

416 says nothing as her expression quietly beams upon seeing the miniature version of herself.

Seeing how much detail was put into it, it made her quite happy. After all, a perfect T-Doll such as herself should look good in any capacity.

(S/O) "Do you like it?"

(HK416) "It is almost perfect, but there is one thing holding it back. Why is the plushie so angry looking?"

S/O just smiled at her teasingly.

(HK416) "Hey, just what exactly are you implying?"

Seeing S/O laugh at her reaction makes her pout.

(HK416) "Fine, keep your secrets then. I'll make sure your effort is not gone to waste."

The soft smile on her face as she stares at S/O's handiwork tells them what her true feelings were.

No Soul or T-Doll will ever see the plushie. If they do and bring it up to her, they'll regret it.

[em0puppy]

taps mic. hi chat i wanted to say a few things now that murder drones is over.

i absolutely LOVE this show. i got into it via my little brother showing it to me a few days before the pilot premiered and have been with it ever since, first as a little casual enjoyer, then dipping my toes in the fandom, and finally regaining a heavy hyperfixation and officially joining the fandom around december 2023 when it spiked in popularity and now i can't get my hands off it.

through murder drones ive met so many amazing people. my amazing boyfriend who's literally n and j irl (my wives), my qpp, some of my closest friends. i've bonded stronger with people i already knew irl through this silly little robot show, including my really cool cousin i rarely ever see.

through murder drones ive discovered more about myself. learned what fictionkins are and why ive always felt so strongly connected to uzi along with other characters - both from the show and other fandoms. discovered im semifictoromantic and thats why i almost always find myself a new fictional character to fall head over heels over in every new media i get into. also discovered what being a multishipper meant and why i wanted to ship skye x chase but also skye x marshall from paw patrol when i was nine. oh yeah and my art improved a bunch i guess /silly

and the show itself? the writing is extraordinary, animation outstanding, i love how this silly little indie show broke the norm of 3d animated series and scifi shows, even if at times it was hard to follow. it became my whole personality lmao. i love n and uzi and their characters and their relationship and how so gay they are. i love the character development and the animation and OH MY GOD EVERYTHING.

i dont think ill ever leave this show, even if i lose my hyperfixation - like how my hyperfixation on waca faded but i still definitely dabble in it (ffs i have a whole sideblog dedicated to just it) - its too precious to me and i love it so much. enzi is my everything this show is my everything. begging to god the merch never goes off sale i still need to buy n and uzi and mayhaps cyn :(((

so yeea. thank you murder drones. ugh whatever. bite me.

[winterchimez]

describe your relationship with your moots using tbz ships!!

weeee i haven’t done a moot game in a while and i do miss it!! im gonna just tag the ones i talk to often so im sorry if you’re not on the list ><

@sungbeam (sangyeon & changmin)

im not saying this just cs ive assigned both of us to our biases, but yknow how sangkyu are always real sweet to each other thats us 🥺 but at the same time yall know how changmin is always hitting his hyung thats beam when she bites back 🤓 and the way how changmin always say “ah hyung!” when he gets annoyed thats beam to me when the *cough* horny thoughts are at its peak ✨ but i always imagine us as the sangkyu piggyback vid from the b-zone cs you’re my precious lil 妹妹 🥺💕

@juyeonszn (sangyeon & haknyeon)

remember when sunwoo said sanghak is the best ship in tbz, thats me and fawn periodt ✨ never in a million years would i have expected to get close to her (cs god i was admiring her works sm 🤧) but now we’re like long lost sisters 🥺 you’re the hakkie to my yeonnie, and i’ll protect you forever 🫂❤️

@from-izzy (jacob & kevin)

who would’ve thought i’d find my soulmate all the way in australia? its crazy how we went from just getting to know each other, and then finding out we have so much in common (i’d say almost 99.9999% of the things we do & enjoy) like its crazy how we’re not placed in the same continent 😤 we’re basically moonbae and nobody can tell me otherwise 💅 btw pack your bags bcs i might be able to visit you next year along with j either in mel or syd!!!

@daisyvisions (sangyeon & eric)

we all know how sangyeon basically cares for his lil baby eric 24/7 and thats daisy to me 🥺 but then we’re also super chaotic behind the scenes which also screams sangric to me LMAO trust me the day we meet irl the world would not be ready for it 😤🫂❤️

@aimeecarreros (sangyeon & hyunjae)

we just gotten close recently and omg i can’t believe i was able to click so quickly and well with elena like she’s so funny & chaotic and I LOVE IT 🤣 sangmil will forever be one of my fav ships and that’ll be me and you 🥰

@snowflakewhispers (sunwoo & eric)

my fellow SEA moot who lives so so close to where i am 🥹 its funny how we gradually got close after that sangyeon fic you dropped and the rest is history 😌 i think the way we relate to so many things is actually what made us become to close & chaotic (god i love our dms i love the mess and we singing gimme gimme more) we’re sunric fs 😘❤️

@flwoie @hanniluvi (sangyeon & jacob)

you two are literally the sweetest lil cuties ever 🥺 from supporting my work since the beginning of my journey like im floored im beyond grateful for you two always 🫂💕

@heemingyu (chanhee & changmin)

we literally have an ongoing series tgt + that way we just clicked from the start is insane. we’re newkyu. i said what i said. sana is WILD which makes me give her the side eye 24/7 but then its what made us close, and the way how newkyu are always tgt thats also me & sana 🤞🏻

@cloverdaisies (hyunjae & haknyeon)

omg where do i even begin!! we go wayyyy back during summer when i was still in EU and when i found out we live literally next to each other i was just????? im sad i didn’t get to know you earlier cs i would’ve come visit you when i was there!! but i promise i will do everything i can to come back UK one day fs (i said what i said so dont come for me again vajfbrnrhrjd) you’re literally hyunjae. sweet but also likes to tease & like seeing me lose my shit 🙄 but i love hyunjae so that also means i love you so i’ll let it pass 💚

@justalildumpling (jacob & sunwoo)

ahahahaha the chaotic parent and child duo is here 🤪 j is literally the sweetest to me when we first met, only later down the line when we got closer that i found out abt her chaotic ass (but i love it so keep it coming LMAO) my little dongsaeng ilysm, i’ll always be here whenever you need me (gurl for you i’ll stay on call with you for 24 hours again 😤😤😤) counting down the days i come visit you & izzy!! 💪

@zzoguri (sunwoo & changmin)

i was debating to put jacob but then i think sunkyu works slightly better for us? pls moni is so sweet but also REALLY FUNNY AND CHAOTIC shjendnrnd i love their reactions i love going through your stories all the time cs they make me laugh 😭 and you have such a good taste in music just like changmin 🥺 you can interchange between these two and you always have a special place in my heart my moni 💜

@itsbeeble (younghoon & hyunjae)

yknow how in tv shows they put this gold light or smth with the audio for the main charas/good looking ppl lmao bsjfbekrm thats bbangmil and that would be us so yall better make way for us 😤😤😤 we’re as chaotic as the two, esp with how reese is always getting me to sleep early BUT THEN I DONT 🤓 and we’re both swifties ugh love a fellow good woman who listens to good songs 💕💕💕

@kimsohn (younghoon & eric)

its only ever since coming back to asia that i got to spend more time talking to you in the gc!! (timezone sucks in EU 😭) and god you are so funny and chaotic too lmao bandndm you’re just like eric, but then yknow how younghoon is always the first one to support and care for the maknae thats me to you 🥺❤️

honorary mentions:

@daisyvisions @aimeecarreros (the lee bros)

make way for the 3 grand sangmil girlies ✨💅 our everyday dms are always loud, chaotic, fun, and a sprinkle of msg aka sexiness 🥰✨ the day the 3 of us meet it would make history in deobiland istg watch us get a ring on our finger by the lee bros themselves bcs delulu is free and it’s the solulu 😚

@cloverdaisies @heemingyu (the kyeopmuda line)

the OG trio ✨ it went from me being moots with clo, and then sana being clo’s biggest fan, made a gc and the rest is history 😌 the 3 of us could talk for hours and often times way past our bed times (esp clo im looking at you pls fix it) just like how close kyeopmuda line is, thats also the 3 of us, we’ve always got each other’s back, and always ready to text and vc anytime 🫂 looking forward to the holidays when the 3 of us are free and we’ll vc for hours fs 😤❤️

[0wl3tt3]

Reflection on my practice (for future me)

Hello, so I wanted to do write what has been my practice so far for future me to read and reflect, I discover a lot for myself, so this might be long so please sit and relax.

Catholicism

I grew up Roman Catholic for most of my life, living and breathing on those values, going to Catholic school and going to church but it doesn't really have an affect for me, I didn't feel connected to Catholicism, so I was semi atheist (I didn't know that Agnostic exist) for most of my early teenage years until I was in grade 10, where I was kinda chilling in class, I wasn't interested with the subject so I just pulled out my phone and thought it would be fun to search on tumblr about witchcraft and it really interested me. Everything about it looked fun and maybe I wanted to dipped my toes in the water. Later on I created an account specifically for that! I enjoyed it as a newbie liking the vibes and looked to find Paganism

Kemeticism

Anyone who followed 15-16 year old me will remember I was a Kemetic pagan, I worshipped Anubis and Ra (Along with Heru-Sa-Aset) but I was close to Anubis, I prayed to him after my dog died which did started my path to paganism where I now just denounce myself silently as a Catholic. I prayed and gave him offerings that I have access to and just let him guide me to cope. I started being open to my practice to my friends as well which they all really support! I never said anything to my family knowing what they believe was that I'm just catholic.

I really do thank Anubis and the gods I did pray for those hardships of my own mistakes and leading me to comfort even when I'm arrogant. It inspired me to admire history more that I ever did, I wanted to read more about old religions, I wanted to just eat every single information I can find tiring to be the best version of what I should do and value.

Hellenism and Athena

I've already told this but I wasn't Kemetic pagan anymore now, I adored Anubis but it felt like my time of mourning had passed and it felt like I might have to part my ways with Kemeticism. Its a beautiful religion and the people there are lovely! but I just don't follow it as a follower anymore and I was called to Hellenism.

I wasn't gonna lie and say Hellenism didn't intimidate me, it did, I knew to never take the myths literally for me to not act dumb but there were a lot of things I had to learn now that I wasn't following Kemeticism. I wasn't sure who to look, well, for a bit until I settled with Athena which makes sense.

Listen, I am a girl that loved the greek monsters, dragons, drawing, and war history, of course I'm gonna pray to Athena!

I felt like she was the goddess for me and later became the kinda the only goddess I prayed for when it comes to tests and being strong. Sometimes I don't do prayers because of school and my own laziness, I'm happy that she's patient with me and a tarot reading by a friend, where I asked "What's Athena thinking about me? I haven't done much for her..." "Talk to me more! and stop procrastinating!"

Is just... I STILL THINK ABOUT IT LIKE OH SWEET GODDESS THANK YOU BUT ALSO DON'T CALL ME OUT😭😭😭😭/j

But I really do thank her for that, it's just so sweet for me to know she is around even when I'm not always acknowledging her.

Now and future

I think one, buy a fucking tarot deck for myself and just talk more, sometimes when no one is around I just talk out of no where to her which I see as my baby steps to coming back since last and the early months I was pretty dry on my worship and practice. This summer I hope I can read history books and just talk about it to her, start doing divination and do something about that rain water from one year ago lmao.

I think this year will be witchy and pagan for me! I'm excited for shenanigans to ensue with my irl witch friends!

And I will say it again, thank you to the deities I worshipped before and now for guiding me to where I am now, no matter how chaotic it is, you're there for me.

So for future me, let's do this!!!!!

[julys-grievances]

grievances about my 2 best friends 💗its mostly petty but i need 2 yap :( major yapping under the cut beware

irl moots who know either of these people please don’t tell them about thiz ty ily lots

1. j (this ones the petty one)

so there was this situation a while ago where this guy who we were friends with who had a girlfriend liked someone else and also said some weird ass shit and we all thought he liked my friend but turns out he liked me and used her as a cover story and sent me an essay long confession which made me want to claw off my skin and sob myself to sleep and also jump off a cliff onto rocky waters because it was fucking disgusting and she still somehow made herself the victim. honestly at this point she was barely involved but she still called me a bystander even though all of the fucking screenshots of weird stuff he’s said to us and also to his other friend were from ME. I GOT THEM ALL. and then when i sent the essay to a groupchat of anti-him people she was still like “no he still likes me.” and then when i was like “dude he doesn’t like you that’s way good news he’s a creep” AND THEN SHE APOLOGIZED FOR TAKING THE SPOTLIGHT OFF OF ME EVEN THOUGH THERE SHOULDN’T BE A SPOTLIGHT IN THE FIRST PLACE. and now whenever this scenario is brought up she describes it as he liked her and then suddenly switched to me which pisses me off and she doesnt even mention the stupid dumbass shit he did to his GIRLFRIEND AT THE TIME. ALL SHE TALKS ANOUT IS THAT HE LIKED HER AND THEN LIKED ME. WHICH WASNT EVEN THE WORST THING HE DID. also she barely cares if people are being racist or antisemetic towards me but the minute she hears the word gringa she goes into fucking cardiac arrest. like this guy in our class was pulling the corners of his eyes and askinf me what ching chong meant and also another guy calling me a fucking dog eater and i told her and she basically shrugged and said damn that sucks BUT THE FUCKING MINUTE SHE THOUGHT SHE HEARD SOMEONE CALL HER A GRINGA SHE GOT A FUCKING HEART ATTACK. worst part is that’s the same throughout my entire friend group because they’re all white. my other friend literally threatened to jump the people who she thought called her a gringa and also shrugged when i told him that someone in my class was saying i started covid and bitched about how i was gonna eat his dog. kms.

2. b

nothing. and i mean nothing. cannot be about this motherfucker. every time i go over to his house we have like half an hour where we’re jsut straight up yapping about everything wrong in our lives. heres the difference. when hes saying stuff i pay attention and listen and give him time to unpack his problems and i talk about his problems too because that’s what a good friend does. when im saying stuff he either says “ru… dont do that..” and then moves on or immediately makes it about himself. literally i was talking about how bad my body images had gotten and how i feel disgusting and how i feel like i lose my value as a person if i’m not stick thin and then he immediately started talking about himself. he didnt even miss a second. I TOLD HIM THAT I FUCKING RELAPSED AND HE BRUSHED IT OFF. IMMEDIATELY STARTED TALKING ABOUT HIS OWN PROBLEMS. I TOLD HIM THAT I WAS SCARED TO TALK ABOUT MY GENDER IDENTITY WITH MY MOM BECAUSE SHE WAS INSISTING THAT ALL OF THE STUFF I WAS FEELING WAS ON THE SPECTRUM OF FEMININITY EVEN THOUGH IT WASNT AND HE IMMEDIATELY DTARTED TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF AGAIN.

i deadass think that i could tell this bitch that i wrote suicide notes and he would still find a way to make it about himself. the first time i was suicidal i told him and he immediately went “if you died i would…” immediately started talking about how his life would be which didnt help at all. he might get tumblr i’m praying he doesnt because if he sees this ever it’s over

me and our other 2 friends were talking earlier about how conscious we are of our weights/bodies/appearance and he said he was conscious too which is totally valid but when we started talking about how we’re basically overexerting ourselves to stay as skinny he said “just don’t overexert yourself”. don’t piss me off.

[the-nexverse]

Let's entertain the idea that your OCs like to play video games (even the ones that might physically struggle with it), which games do you think are everyone's favorites?

If it absolutely wouldn't be up someone's alley, which game do you think they'd at least give a try, and why?

viddygaem.....

Agnes: graphic action games, the first God of Wars come to mind. strangely enough, i also see her enjoying more ambiguous story games like Shadow of the Colossus or Dark Souls. actually, she'd love the soulsborne genre a lot, and would spend a decent amount of time grinding and getting genuinely good at them. feels proud of her hardcore gamer skills, but isn't elitist/gatekeepy about it and would give people advice on what builds would best fit them and their playstyle if she ever found the right forums to do so

Ryan: king of RTS 4X resource management games for sure. always knows what's going on, where's it going on and how's it going on. and of course, it always goes well for him

Lisabel: graphic and psychological horror games. Mortuary Assistant kinda thing. never gets visibly jumpscared, always has some observations about the technicalities of the IRL medical procedures. body horror is also up her alley, Resident Evil and Silent Hill. and of course, The Sims, either no cheat speedruns minmaxxing everything or discovering new ways to torture sims you could've never thought of. with mods, anything is possible :)

Eric: Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing and similar cozy games. something he can sit down and chill with for a while. undisputed fishing minigame master

Léan: FOSSIL FIGHTERS DS!!!!! wacky creature collectors 4everrr!!!!! SPORE!!!!!! HATES the Jurassic World games for the dinosaur inaccuracies

Rask'r: i think he'd go NUTS for VR games! perfect for practising his IRL combat moves. Blade and Sorcery stuff. i think he'd also enjoy stuff like Boneworks. not sure if he'd get dizzy tho. or how he'd fit the headset on his head. oops

Raz: hmmm, not sure. i don't think he'd be a videogame fan, but i see him enjoying Tetris at least. simple to learn, easy to play, a good choice to simply have a short good time. he wouldn't be a pro at it, but he'd moderately enjoy it

Donovan: the Wii fascinates him, and it's good physical pseudo-exercise. oh! and card games. honestly, i see him doing fairly well with MtG Arena and Hearthstone

Lee: you give him a tablet with one of those bug/mouse apps for cats and he slams his hand on it at full force the second something moves onscreen. congratulations, you need a new tablet now

Vreytus: chess. actually, i can see him playing 5D Chess with Multiverse Timetravel. and winning

Bug: oooh this one's hard. hmmm, it's difficult to find something stimulating and entertaining enough for them. maybe something fast-paced, reaction-based... i can't think of any games that fit those descriptions and aren't online competitive FPS games tho. EDIT: HOW DID I FORGET CAR RACING GAMES

Chad: even with his disabled arm, he'd find a viable way to play competitive FPS games. CoD, Counter Strike, PUBG (that one still a thing?), Valorant. knows all the gun names and optimized builds and keeps himself update on his game of choice's meta. he'd even make for a decent esports player! also stuff like L4D2 and Vermintide? idk what that genre is called, but biiig power trip from getting a busted build and mowing down hordes of enemies. hates fortniters and calls them normies alt. Forza Horizon CoD FIFA player. still calls fortniters normies but now it's even funnier

Lewis: cozy game lover, but also VNs including dating sims and puzzle games. i can also see him as a big enjoyer of story-driven games and classic J/RPGs. OH, and Spore of course!!! :DDD

thanks for the ask!! very curious topic for sure 🤔

[rin-and-jade]

So I recently discovered that I'm a system, had a whole panic attack during the switch and everything do to us fighting on fronting since I didn't really want to front and they didn't want to stop fronting but anywho I was just wondering if you had any advice on how to adjust myself accordingly to the fact that I have DID or just any general tips to living as a system?

Well i hope the fight won’t happen so often, as i prefer not to involve myself in a personal matter (i could guide you how to handle it better). Though, I’ll still help you on what to do after discovering being a system! I think i ever wrote a list somewhere, hm..

right here! This will route you to my archive although. This one is a small list on what you can do after discovering being a system.

Now, the things you should know are:

Being a system, sometimes when still new, will see each and every part as a whole different person. While this is true to some extent, it is not completely, as you are your own different facets. The easiest way to explain this is how singlets have the social side, the working side, and etc,, though disconnected for us, systems. Sometimes i see other systems drifting further due to the fact were "different people" and that can worsen barriers.

Things can get messy without organization, so, brainstorm some ideas such as creating a front queue, designated item spots to search easier if you need things irl, get some app or notepad to jot down the timeline of the days if you have bad amnesia/time blindness. Theres many things you can think if it's about organizing.

Read more articles, see more experiences from other systems, talk to more (i can be your sys friend if you need) plural buddies. They can serve many things from validating your unique experiences, make sense of things, and discover new stuffs.

Lastly, that it is not easy living as a system, and that it takes hardwork to become functional. You have to anticipate many traumas to work with, and many triggers and other unfinished business you may find. And i can be there for ya. Take everything SLOWLY, one step at a time.

You may reach out to my DMs for future help, i'll definitely remember you, good luck!

- j

[stargazer0001]

(art from above is by @/sleepinginmute.)

Hello everyone! I’m Stargazer0001! But you can just call me Star :3

my pronouns are she/they/he/it/astro in no particular order. I like em all so use them interchangeably

I'm your local lil space critter, who has declared themself the CEO of the rainworld ship Stargazer (spearmaster x rivulet x nightcat)

I'm a silly littol spacegender fellar :3 How can I be lesbian and spacegender at the same time you ask? Fuck you thats how!/j Im also asexual so no NSFW please! This blog is meant to be at least a bit more kid friendly, even if there are more mature topics

I am also a furry so if you do not like them then please leave here

I am also questioning if I am a therian and fictionkin. I have done research on both and I am now taking them into consideration. Im not gonna label myself yet because I still might not be, but if anyone has helpful info on them then please do share :)

I have a secret draw box! if you wanna draw for me anonymously, you can go here to do it! I check every couple days.

Ask box: Open

Ship requests: closed. Uhhh i frogor to update this for a while so uh yeagh.

Ask me stuff: Always open unless the ask box is closed

Tell me silly things: Yes I want to talk to people!! Please give me silly asks i need them....

art requests: not open sorry :( artblock is blocking my art so

I wanna make my blog more organized now so I am going to start tagging stuff

#my art Art that is made by me

#Art request anytime my art requests are open I will tag it with this

#ask An ask that I have answered, this also applies to anon asks

#Star.TXT document this is for anytime I am just talking

#vent this if for anytime I just need to talk and vent about stuff

#lil starz art this is for my really old art, such as the ones near the beginning of my Tumblr journey

#Silly chat this is me and my mutuals little chats! Like if they send a lighthearted friend ask I will tag it with silly chat

IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE A CERTAIN TAG THEN FILTER IT

I rarely block people but I still will on occasion. Please don't take any hard feelings if I do block you.

Basic DNI such as NSFW blogs, homophobes, transphobes, fatphobes, racists, antifurries and antitherians, and zionists

Cool moots who you should go check out if you like my blog:

@critter2: My IRL bestie that ive been with for a long time. We've been together through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. The bestie ever :3

@cookieeevee: An amazing friend! The first person to ever really DM me on here and I'd like to say that we've grown to be good friends. We have amazing little chats and she's an amazing person! Their art is also so soft and squishable! Go check em out

@sleepinginmute: one of my first moots! Such an amazing and silly creature. Its art is amazing, and even though im unsure if it considers me a friend, I know that I do. I really do wish the best for it and I hope that it can be truly happy someday

@cumulusbrume: we dont interact very often anymore, but I still find him a great moot to this day

@athofear: I fun lil fello!! Always a fun time interacting with em. Their art is also superrr shaped and silly!! Always a treat to see them on my dash

@meowyncherry: we dont interact much but he gave me the kinitopet brainrot and their art is also super blorbo so :3

@suburbandrifts: once again, we dont interact very often but they seem very cool and silly/pos and their art is incredibly good! mm the colors are coloring/pos @weeeeblr:!!! The art ever actually!!! Idk how we're mutuals cause hes super cool actually. Great art, and his designs for basically everything is peak/srs

@bananacat76: the bestie does indeed make art!!! And said art is amazing!! Such a cool person and fren :3 their style is also incredibly interesting I need to study it under a microscope/aff

@keeper-of-magic:!!! Cool person alert!!! Their art is amazing and their worldbuiding skills are super awesome!!! I also gotta try and play DND with them sometime.... I have no idea how to but it seems fun, just like them!

@badgerfrost: the silly ever!!! Its art is very well colored and its basically eye candy at this point, and ever time we interact I KNOW its gonna be a goood time

@draagu: ohhhh the silly!!! We dont interact much but shes a super cool moot and idk how we're mutuals like. ??? awesome person with awesome art FOLLOWED ME????? Awesome

@dazzoot: we have interacted a total of like 1 time but cool mutual deserves an honorary tag

GO CHECK ALL OF THESE SILLY PPL OUT!!! THEY'RE AWESOME :333 (if I forgor anyone i am so sorry. Also if you want me to untag you just ask. I dont wanna make anyone uncomfy)

Talking to people spooks me

I have anxiety so please be patient with me, I usually overthink what I am going to say and then end up saying something either really stupid, kinda weird, or I just don't respond.

I am mentally a 5 year old so please inform me if I did something wrong, I usually wont notice or I will think its not an issue. Please be patient with me.

if you sat through all of that, congrats! You get rw gifs now :)

[aftergloom]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @thegreatwicked! This is my main — @thenightmarketofdathomir is my sideblog (and I usually do these tag games over here.)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?  Twenty one. Have deleted as many in as many years, probably. 

2. What's your total A03 word count?  740,975. I had this horrified moment as I was tallying… what if my current WIP (not live) has a bigger total than everything else that’s up as of today? (It’s not. I’m not sure if I’m relieved because this thing is shaping up to be a trilogy.)

3. What fandoms do you write for?  Stah Wahs

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Kudos in ratio to chapter, orrrr just the volume? Some of them are shit and I pretend they don’t exist anymore so I’m not going to list them. They’re like bad dreams. That shit never happened I don’t care if it took 38 chapters. And I’m not counting the Nightmarket because it’s a hundred and eighty one-shots lumped together. 

Somebody's gonna have a bad time by nxctuary (Opress Bros x Reader)

Drown Me in You by nxctuary (Mermaid!Maul x Reader)

The myriad applications and multiple uses for a Corellian HWY-280 class fresher. Article 342: One locking door. by nxctuary (Feral x Reader)

The Collector by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)

The Ritual by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?  Depends on a couple of things that aren’t always consistent, and often if I don’t reply it’s because the comment broke me. (I often will reply, but I’m like a cryptid — expect me to pop-up without warning six months after you’ve left a note.) It’s often someone saying something nice, my inner self-hatred seeing it and going, “LIAR!” And then taking six months to convince myself that I just can’t take a compliment when negotiating my own imposter syndrome.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?  Ah that’s… hm. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone lately.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?  Everyone gets a happy ending. Even if it’s a little twisted. I like horror endings, you know? The kind that, on the surface, appear as if everything’s actually going to work out for the better but there’s a single drop of darkness left on the page that implies everything can be lost at a moment’s notice.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Narp.

9. Do you write smut?  Yarp.

10. Do you write crossovers?  Just once. Let’s not talk about it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?  Better not have. I’ve had multiple pieces plagiarized partially, though. In really hilarious ways (to me, at least) because there’s nothing like borrowing a turn of phrase said to you IRL (while you were sleeping with the person who said it), giving those words to Maul as he speaks them to the Reader character, then finding someone else pulled out several lines of the same dialogue to use in their fic without permission. Maybe don’t do that. You don’t know where this stuff comes from, and you definitely don’t know what I was working through when I wrote it. Awkward. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?  Not that I remember. (Maybe once in X-Men? I've had work turned into podfic, though.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?  Nope. 

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?  Feral and Kai? Do OCs count? 

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?  Nothing is ever finished even if it’s finished. I don’t understand the question. /j

16. What are your writing strengths?  I show up every day and I do the work. Even when it sucks and when I hate it. I do the work. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?  If I don’t have a clear overview of how a scene is going to play out (or especially the layers of an argument between the characters — what they’re saying VS what they really mean, what they’re withholding, what the reader knows but they don’t, etc) I will spin my wheels and fill up a page with setting description to avoid making a bulleted list of what’s actually happening so I can get to the point. Then edit it twelve times later like hacking away at a hunk of marble trying to get to the good bits. 

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?  Doesn’t bother me. There are circumstances where the jist of the conversation carries regardless, and if not, I’m assuming the writer’s offering a translation either in-text or as a citation. I mean, if you want to get granular about it, then start asking does doing that serve the story and what does it add, or does it detract, but that’s a situational thing and I think you need to experiment a bit to learn what works in context.

19. First fandom you wrote for?  Harry Potter. Draco/Harry. I was baby.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?  Archangel (unreleased). Heartsong (unreleased). Crown of Motherfucking Horns (current WIP). CoH my heart. CoH beloved. CoH my baby.

Tagging (no pressure): @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @grinningnexu @sinisterexaggerator @inquisitorius-sin-bin @umber-cinders @graaaaceeliz @not0a0mundane and anyone else who wants to play :)