#THESE MEN DO NOT KNOW EACH OTHER. the first brother; i have known he existed my entire life

[fingertipsmp3]

What is going onnnn

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

octavinelle’s “happy endings”

***SPOILER WARNING: This post will go into detail about the dreams Azul, Jade, and Floyd experience in the book 7 part 10 update.***

OKAY, so there’s a debate in the TWST fandom about whether or not Azul and the twins consider each other “real” friends or just business partners. I’ve shared my own thoughts on this topic in the past (which you can read here!). After the most recent main story update, it’s now more clear to me than ever that they do treasure each other even if they don’t express that in traditional ways.

Let’s discuss them in order that they appear in book 7 part 10!! I know there’s some vagueness surrounding how much of the dream is Malleus actively controlling the scenarios (hence the limited and shallow scope of them) and how much the dreams actively pull from the innate desires of the dreamer, but for the sake of the argument let’s assume the latter is more influential in shaping and structure of the dreams.

First up, Floyd!

So Floyd is known as the “I do what I want when I feel like it” guy. He hates two main things: 1) being told what to do/having his freedom restrained and 2) being bored. To ensure that Floyd is happy, the dream consistently shifts to locations so he vanishes explore and experience new things.

What you might notice is that Azul and Jade aren’t around in Floyd’s dream. This doesn’t mean they don’t exist or that Floyd doesn’t know who they are though. When asked, Floyd replies that Azul is simply doing his own thing (focusing on his business ventures/schemes) and Jade is there supporting him, thus leaving Floyd to his own devices. The fact that Jade and Azul are still present in Floyd’s dream, just not in an immediate capacity, makes complete sense.

In the waking world, Floyd loves to stir up trouble with his brother and Azul. The thing is, Floyd also dislikes it when they tell him off, order him to do something he’s not in the mood for, or punish him for acting out. Yes, Jade for the most part enables Floyd to misbehave, and yes, Azul has largely learned by now that it’s best to sit back and let Floyd fuck off/finish throwing a tantrum rather than intervene. However, there are still times when they order Floyd around or get upset with him. For example, Azul scolds Floyd for damaging the vault where they keep the contracts in book 3 and for not selling the drinks he’s supposed to in book 5. We see numerous examples across vignettes as well: Jade forces Floyd to stand in line at a famous patisserie for Trey as penance for eating special fruits meant for a VIP client (Trey Labwear vignettes), Azul and Jade wring Floyd for his eel slime (Azul Ceremonial Robes vignettes), Azul orders Floyd to secure the rights to Sam’s Mystery Drink even though Floyd shows a clear disinterest in the task (Floyd Dorm Uniform vignettes), etc.

In spite of these grievances, Floyd doesn’t entirely despise Jade and Azul, nor would he be happier without them. They’re an important part of his life, hence why they still linger in the dream, just in the periphery where they can’t butt in with whatever Floyd wants to do. Jade and Azul aren’t present and compliant since that, too, would quickly bore Floyd. He loves those two goobers in part because they’re chaotic and unpredictable, not because they’re yes men to his every action. The dream might not be able to keep up with that demand; it only seems to operate in extremes rather than conjure enough nuance to keep Floyd stimulated and content. This is why all the places Floyd already visited bored him; he got showered with too many conveniences and eventually got fed up with it all.

If you need even more damning evidence, all previous dreams would manifest someone closely tied to the dreamer in an attempt to keep them in the dreamscape. Who does Floyd’s dream summon? AZUL AND JADE. If Floyd genuinely found them annoying or didn’t want them near, the surely the dream would spawn other people. BUT NO, it specifically spawned THOSE TWO in an effort to convince Floyd. It can be argued that they could very well be a source of hatred since Kalim and Neige showed up for Jamil and Vil respectively, but I genuinely think Floyd doesn’t feel that degree of negativity toward Jade and Azul; the kind of hatred that Jamil and Vil have for their respective counterparts has never been expressed by Floyd toward Jade or Azul.

Floyd reacts to dream!Jade and Azul in a manner that’s very different from the dreamers that came before him… with anger. And a LOT of anger too. He immediately clocks them as phonies and, he, fully waking, demands to know who the fakes are, because they certainly aren’t Jade and Azul. Floyd points out their faces and voices may resemble theirs, but they’re acting in a way that they never would (suggesting a “boring” way of living). That pisses him off to the point where he cuts the fakes down all by himself. Brutal violence aside, this tells us a lot about Floyd... as well as Malleus.

We see that Floyd has become lethargic and bored despite the dream's attempts to sate him, which just demonstrates that Malleus, whose magic has a hand in crafting these realities, has a shallow understanding of what makes people happy. (Edit: to be clear, Malleus having a “shallow understanding” of happiness is not a personal take; this is a direct statement made by Idia in-game and this is where I am pulling my phrasing from.) He thinks that removing all obstacles and challenge to what you want is what leads to a happy ending when, in truth, it clearly isn't the case for Floyd, who craves stimulation and change. While Malleus is motivated outright controlling the details of Floyd’s dream down to the wire, his autonomous magic has decided to get rid of any challenges Floyd may face in his pursuit of happiness. (I would continue about the Malleus portion, but since this post is about the Octatrio, I will instead direct you to this post, which shares many of my own thoughts ^^) I think that's why Floyd truly "woke" when he was faced with dream!Azul and Jade; a part of him recognizes how wrong it is for the two people he chose to spend his time with because they're so fun are now turning around and preaching complacency. It tells us just how well Floyd knows those two and values their... unique perspectives, shall we say?

Next, just Jade!

What's immediately fascinating about Jade's dream is that it's also underwater, despite Floyd and co. suspecting it would be on land/in the mountains. Floyd even changes from his merform to his human form prior to hopping to Jade's dream because he was under the impression that it would be on land. This ends up not being the case, although Malleus's magic does manifest the underwater equivalent of "mountains", which are volcanic vents at the bottom of the sea.

We see Jade happily exploring alongside a dream!Azul and dream!Floyd, who are both very different than the real ones. Dream!Azul has big, watery eyes and is much more of a coward and crybaby than the real Azul is. He also seems to be very dependent on Jade, who derives great joy from watching dream!Azul flail about while trying to attain his goals (in this case, access to a gold vein). This is in-character with what we already know about Jade; he amuses himself by watching others struggle--especially Azul, whom Jade frequently teases, such as tricking him to dance as a mummy in the first Halloween event and comparing Azul's greedy attitude to the positive traits of other dorm leaders. Jade also prefers to have control over the circumstances, so he likes it when people defer to his word or advice. So what better to hand him than an Azul that listens to his every word and also provides entertainment value in his tears?

As for dream!Floyd, he presents with a very goofy face and seems to lack his usual aggression and flippancy. Instead, he has a fixation on eating other sea life around him (crabs, shrimp, etc.) and happily goes along with Jade's mountain exploration. Like dream!Azul, dream!Floyd acts dependent on Jade to guide him and even acts cowardly in a fight. Now we can sort of get a glimpse of how Jade feels about Floyd too. Dream!Floyd's pliant and agreeable nature may come in part from the dream seeking to provide Jade with more free entertainment, but it could also be that Jade wants Floyd to share in his interests. But here Floyd is not gung-ho about mountains; instead, he acts very innocently, almost like a kid going along with whatever his parents decide to do for the day. It gives me the impression that Jade doesn't see Floyd as threatening but as someone cute and child-like. This idea is reinforced when, in an attempt to keep Jade dreaming, dream!Azul tells him that Floyd is cute and not some thug (like the real Floyd is). AND JADE 100% BUYS IT. He 100% believes that dresm!Floyd is the "true" one, that his Floyd and Azul would be useless without his support.

Idia makes an important comment at this point in book 7. He explains that Jade is having a hard time waking up because he believes in himself too strongly. That also means that Jade is distrustful of others; he is the only person he counts on. This reflected in how dream!Azul and dream!Floyd present. Both are heavily reliant on Jade to tell them what to do. In real life, too, Jade uses his competency to get into others' good graces (including the notoriously hard to please Vil; see his Dorm Uniform vignettes) so then he can reap the benefits that relationship offers. Jade is just that confident that he can succeed. Indeed, he often is the one coming close to tasting success when all others have failed. If we look back at Ghost Marriage, Jade was about to win over Eliza's heart before Floyd rudely interrupted and pointed out the flowers Jade was gifting were poisonous. Back to Idia's comment; because this is dream's Jade world, he's perhaps too invested in the dream that he has made, thus Jade is choosing to believe the dream that he conjured over the reality staring him in the face. It takes fistfighting with Floyd AND a jolt from Sebek's UM to properly shock some sense into Jade. He is otherwise too stuck in his own head to consider a truth that isn't one he has constructed for himself.

Still, I find it revealing that even though Jade is essentially stuck in his own headspace, dream!Floyd and dream!Azul are the only other people around. Floyd and Azul’s dreams feature way more NPCs, but Jade’s dream is pretty lonely. He could theoretically have several influential people to whisper in the ears of, but instead Jade’s desire is grounded… just being able to explore nature with his twin and Azul. They’re the ones he chooses to spend his time with. No one else. And Jade actively, fiercely defends this simple thing despite usually not being one to resort to violence right off the bat. The only major time in the main story where Jade does this is in book 2, when be noticed that he’s being tailed and does not appreciate the violations of his privacy. That’s exactly what this dream sequence is. It’s another violation of his privacy, and he detests that. You shouldn’t be here interrupting his happy, chill time with his friends business associates. It’s best for you to clear out.

I think it's also worthwhile to note that Floyd and Jade's waking sequences mirror one another. To quote myself from another post:

Something I find interesting is that the twins’ moments of waking mirror each other’s usual approaches to a task. Floyd usually foregoes a plan and prefers to use his fists to get the job done. However, he is slowly roused by reminiscing about his memories at NRC and the promise of being presented with a challenge. The final blow that shocks him awake is the presentation of a dream!Azul and dream!Jade who attempt to lure him deeper into the dream. Floyd doesn’t fall for it; in fact, he gets mad instead, and that fury, so biting and clear, snaps him awake. The opposite is true for Jade. He is someone who meticulously plans before acting, and would rather control the circumstances and use other roundabout methods before resorting to violence. But ironically, the master manipulator Jade is the one who falls for his own dream’s manipulations—all because he trusts himself above all else. He only wakes up because of a very strong physical force (ie Sebek’s UM) striking him. Prior to this, Jade was putting up a very good fight and the blows be was taking were not sufficient to wake fully him. So… Floyd, the brother who prefers brawns, woke up after reflecting and experiencing strong cognitive dissonance between his fake reality and bis true reality. Jade, the brother who prefers brains, woke up after being smacked the right amount. They woke up after experiencing an intense shock related to what is essentially the opposite of their preferred problem solving strategies.

And last but not least, Azul!

We’ve arrived at what I think is the juiciest part to dissect on the subject of the Octatrio’s friendship. To start off with, everyone suspects that Azul’s dream will be one in which he is a highly successful businessman with Mostro Lounge as a chain with even more locations stretching as far as the Coral Sea’s depths. That isn’t the case though! They quickly come to learn that Azul is the leader of Golden Trident, a reigning Coral Rush team. In this dream’s reality Azul was always popular and well-liked. Because he was never bullied, he never started up his shady business in middle school and thus never attracted the interest of the twins. Notably, Jade and Floyd still exist in the dream (as Azul remembers the Leeches from elementary school), but they never got close.

Before we get into the Octatrio’s dynamics, I want to say that the setup of this dream already tells us that a lot of Azul’s desire to become a successful business owner really stems from the longing to be accepted as he is. He uses his businesses and accumulation of contracts to reinforce and inform his self worth. Azul has formed a false belief and identity entering around the concept of success and likability equating to talent and material goods. This explains why he’s so fixated in his public image and being perceived as smart, confident, reliable, and trustworthy, and why he loses it so quickly when he’s denied his collection of golden contracts. Azul is insecure as heck about his shortcomings (athleticism being one of them) and the dream may be latching onto that, as well as his desire to be liked by his peers, to overcompensate.

A little thing I'd like to call attention to is that Jade refuses to divulge the private details of Azul's past in which he was bullied. This is significant because most other instances of the twins bringing up Azul's past usually results in them making fun of him for it and continuing to rag on him to the point where Azul becomes annoyed and tells them to quit it/reminds them that they swore to not talk about it. In those other instances though, the twins never tread that far; they'll at most comment about how different Azul looked or acted back then. They never went so far as to point out how badly he was bullied and here we see Jade respecting Azul's privacy by vocalizing that he refuses to release that information. And this JADE we're talking about, the one who has zero qualms with scoping out prospective new students for their personal info so Azul can later hold it against them (Jade Ceremonial Robes vignettes). Jade even blackmails older students to attain what he wants (Ortho Athletic Gear vignette). It says a lot that, when given the option to openly blab about what Azul experienced and have a laugh about it, Jade clams up.

sdjbaslidbasib OKAY I GOT SIDETRACKED, BACK TO AZUL'S DREAM. So he remembers the Leeches from elementary school, meaning that their existence was not entirely purged from his dream world. It's just a different timeline of events since he wasn't bullied in this reality. Azul is quite friendly to the twins and invites them to join his Coral Rush team at his mother's restaurant for a celebratory dinner. When we arrive at the restaurant, Azul and his team mates start to make fun of the land creatures for very similar things that he actually got bullied for in the waking world. (For example, being clumsy and uncoordinated in their swimming.) He's no longer the bullied, he is a bully. In a twisted way, Azul is getting validation of his own identity by looking down on others; this mirrors his behavior pre-OB in book 3, as he also mistreated his anemone'd peers back then. Tellingly, the only people he doesn't bully are... that's right, Jade and Floyd. Azul instead asks them to play Coral Rush with him. Again, this parallels what we saw in book 3: Azul is asking the twins to essentially "join" him in the midst of him abusing his power and lording over others. He still cares deeply about Jade and Floyd's approval specifically. Nowhere is this demonstrated so clearly as the method by which the twins finally get Azul to start questioning the construct of the dream. They start smashing up the restaurant but then grow bored and make as though they're going to casually leave. That triggers a memory from book 3 in which Azul is angrily shouting about how he'll always be alone. Alone. That's what Azul fears, being that lonely little octopus crying in his pot. That's why he's surrounded by adoring team members and fans in his dream. That's why he breaks down emotionally and OBs after the twins refuse to hand over their UMs to him in book 3. That's why he becomes distraught enough to shake the dream at the suggestion that Jade and Floyd, his two closest friends, are threatening to leave him. In book 4, Azul tries to be cool and play off this fear as the inevitable, that he's fully aware that the Leeches will discard him if he stops being entertaining to them, and that he's prepared for that when it happens. But... is that really the truth, given how Azul reacts in book 7? Everything leading up to this moment seems to imply Azul was just lying to himself, perhaps in an attempt to quell his own anxieties about the possibility. And given how Azul is shown to be calculated in cultivating a put-together public persona, I would not be shocked to learn that. It wouldn't make him seem strong or confident if he displayed weakness or fear over losing his right-hand men. I don't even know that he's purposefully telling a lie. It could very well be something Azul tells himself and believes in, but deep down he cannot truly know how emotional he would get if it ever happened.

As soon as Azul starts to wake, the mermobs of his Coral Rush team are the ones who come in and pull him deeper into the dream. Interesting to have just mobs doing this rather than a dream!Jade or dream!Floyd, given how important they seem to be to Azul. Maybe that's just how the surface level of the dream works? Like, it prioritizes lavishing Azul with general attention rather than the attention of two specific people since, in this dream's reality, Azul never bonded with Jade and Floyd (so those two wouldn't be as convincing?).

When Azul is being dragged into the darkness, Jade and Floyd don't go after him. Instead, they kinda just sit back and claim it's Azul's choice to dream more deeply so who are they to interfere? It takes some convincing from Ortho to convince the twins to pursue Azul into the next layer of the dream--but after the twins depart, Ortho wonders if Jade and Floyd being this cold is actually their way of showing trust. This sort of behavior is why I stress so often that we cannot take what the Octatrio do and say at face value all of the time. They have completely different ways of expressing that they care, and they don't always mean what they insist they mean. (KEEP THIS IN MIND BECAUSE IT COMES BACK INTO PLAY SOON.) In the second layer of Azul's dream, we revisit the events of book 3 had he been successful. He's setting that final class trip picture on fire and relishing in his total conquest of Night Raven College. Azul has ~500 golden contracts, the UMs of the other dorm leaders, and even has Crowley under his thumb--and this time, there's a dream!Jade and dream!Floyd to enjoy that victory with him. The rescue squad has to trick Azul into accidentally sanding his own contracts again, and it's that loss that finally breaks him. Again, we see how much of his own self-worth and value Azul places in that which he collects. It all ties back to that fear of not having anything of worth--not even allies to call his own--if he loses what he believes makes him desirable. At this point, Azul begins to sink into that final layer of his dream (the part where he confronts his OB self). This time, the twins lunge after him, calling out Azul's name and instructing him to grab onto them (+ Jade tells Floyd to help him pull). UM, HELLO????? The "take my hand" imagery, that symbol of trust and connection, from all the way at the start of the game is rearing its head here 😭 AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S EVEN CRAZIER???? The twins just... let go after that??? But not because they don't give a crap about Azul--no, it's because they care and believe that he can fend for himself, that he's no longer a weak person who cries and needs their support to stand on his own. Jade sends him off with a "good luck" and Floyd asks of Azul to not go to hell. Azul casually says the same right back to them before descending. And, just as the twins suspected, Azul is able to win against his inner demons and return to them, safe and sound. They were right about Azul, and Ortho was right about the Leeches. For as cold as Jade and Floyd seem to act, it's actually a front for how much they care.

In the segment where Azul faces his Phantom, he cites that the weight of everything he has taken from others has made it difficult to move. Taken literally, it of course could refer to the tentacles of his merform making it hard for him to swim. Metaphorically though? It can easily mean that he can't achieve personal growth if he's burdened by the weight of his sins (stolen talents, items, etc.). These things he stole may glitter, but they are not gold and he now realizes they aren't things he actually finds valuable. Azul wants to go out there and find things of "real value". I interpret this to mean intangible things that can't really have a price put to them, things that cannot be bought in stores... like friendship, the very thing he has with the twins but failed to call it that this entire time.

Everything in these dreams, and more specifically Azul's dream, demonstrates the Octatrio's mutual respect and trust in one another. Jade and Floyd acknowledge Azul as a strong individual, and Azul's subconscious reveals that he deeply values the twins and seeks their approval even when they've been removed from the picture.

[kaisturni]

bewitched | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ oc! created for the plot

→ plot; you and matt attend the wedding of your best friends, and he comes a realization about you that he should’ve known all along.

→ warnings; absolutely NONE. tooth aching, cavity inducing, sickly sweet fluff.

→ a/n; i’m so sorry i reread this and literally had to post

NOT PROOFREAD KINDA

——————————————————————————

“ready, man? big day today, huh?” matt shook, his best friends shoulders lovingly, excited to watch nathan get married, a sentiment you two always talked about together, the future wedding of the person that grew up beside the both of you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“what do you think about charlotte?” he asked you whilst taking a sip of the milkshake you were sharing at dinner.

“oh, she’s the one.” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, confused by the certainty of your statement.

“how can you be so sure, they’ve only been together six months or so?”

you looked off to the side, giggling at his question, fiddling the straw wrapper between your manicured hands.

“she’s just so right for him, y’know? i’ve never seen him do the things he does for her, for anyone. they take care of each other. call it the honeymoon phase whatever, that’s going to last with them. oh man, have you seen the way he looks at her? that never goes away. when you know you know? right?”

he shrugs his shoulders, “yeah i guess so”

he had no reason to argue with you about your reasoning for why exactly charlotte was the one for nathan,

“only time can tell” he adds

“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”

even then you had such an optimistic look on love. it was natural, real, and easy. you had no reason to believe a love like that couldn’t exist. but to put it bluntly, he didn’t exactly have the same compass as you when it came to love. he too had no reason to not believe a love like that was real, but that wasn’t something he could tell you. his relationship with you had only been a couple of weeks down the line. matt wasn’t ready to lose you just yet, so he kept those thoughts to himself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“i’ve waited for this day since i met charlotte, when you know you know, am i right?” fixing the cuff links on his slick black suit,

deja vu hit him, and he thought of your words in a conversation you had years ago,

“for sure, now get out there and marry her”

the pair hugged, and nathan disappeared out to the venue, excitedly finding his way to the altar, the ceremony was about to begin.

of course, it wasn’t just him in the room, his brothers nick and chris, and nathan’s other groomsmen were also in collective. each got to walk down the isle with a member of charlotte’s party, you included, being her maid of honor after, and him as nathan’s best man. you were the ones to introduce them, after all. he faced the mirror on the other side of him, watching the men around him mingle and laugh. he fixed his own cuff links and tie in the mirror, almost letting himself think it was his own big day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

the wedding party lined up, waiting for their cue to enter, you and matt being first. he hasn’t seen you yet that day, too busy scrambling; helping charlotte all day, getting ready yourself, and making sure everything was perfect for your best friend. right now, his mind could only imagine how beautiful you looked.

to be fair, he already knew how striking you were. since the day you two met, you were always the one to catch his eye. he could never focus on anyone else but you. in his mind it was young love; the love that makes you dumb, and wild, the kind that doesn’t truly last. now that years have passed you’ve been dating, and you’ve grown together, his dress shoes suddenly didn’t fit and the collar of his shirt was too tight on his neck, the thought of letting you go one day made him feel uncomfortable.

matt shook the thought out of his head, right on time to hear the music, signaling him to walk in to the ceremony.

you enter the same time he does, and his entire body felt weak at the sight of you.

matt knew you were never one to dress up, always in something casual and comfortable, unless necessary. he never gets to see you like this, the seldom times being prom and a handful of your own college formals. but nothing compared to this.

the black strapless dress hugged your skin perfectly, accentuating all your curves, paired flawlessly with white heels, yet you still fell short under his height.

your hair was neatly kept in an updo, soft curls falling in front of your face, he always loved seeing you with your hair up.

your delicate hold of the bouquet in your hands, french tips on your nails, as always.

your whole body glowed with radiance, and you met his face with a warm smile, which he gladly returned. he couldn’t help but think how strikingly perfect you looked; every detail of you he took in, there was no part of you that was a mystery to him.

matt has seen you be beautiful in every stage of life you’ve known each other, and this time it was astonishing as the first time around.

his mind trailed back to when you two were in high school and university; when you were still a girl and he got to call you that.

his girl.

but that was not the person standing in front of him, you were a woman now.

his woman.

you brought him out of his daydream, with a soft “hi,” soft enough that only his blessed ears could hear.

he mouthed the same back to you, and offered you his arm which you gladly took, effortlessly shifting the bouquet to your other hand. he looked forward at his best friend standing at the altar, nathan’s gaze bouncing between you and matt, smile growing exponentially bigger.

you and matt made your way down the isle, the trail of the others behind you following shortly after.

his mind went back to the thoughts he had earlier of what his wedding day would be like; walking down a similar path, similar people as his own groomsmen, but different decorations and maybe some different guests, but one constant was there,

and it was you.

meeting nathan at the end of the walkway, matt hugged him first and you following,

“thank you,” nathan whispered in your ear, you broke the hug, giving him a silent ‘of course’ as you shuffled to your side in front of the other women.

an instrumental began to play; charlotte was about to walk in. you could barely contain the excitement of seeing your best friend marry the love of her life. you felt a little proud about being part of the reason her and nathan started dating, but you were always humble about it.

matt on the other hand, he wasn’t thinking about charlotte; hell, he wasn��t even thinking about nathan. he could only think of you, and how you were beaming with joy in the moment.

would you be the same way on your big day?

‘Wrapped me in your arms

Leaned in and whispered

"Keep me in your heart"

‘I'm so bewildered

What's this new desire called?’

‘I didn't know that much at all 'bout love before

But now, I think I'm learning’

in all honesty, he never paid much attention to the lyrics, just knew that you liked it. but for once, his ears tuned in.

‘You bewitched me

From the first time that you kissed me’

that was true. your first kiss together was sweet and innocent, shared after only one date at the most dive style restaurant in boston. even from that day, he was hooked on you.

‘Waited all night

Then we ran down the street in the late London light

The world froze around us, you kissed me good night’

the grand doors fell open, and there she was. charlotte was glowing. a perfect bride on her perfect day, everyone turning their entire bodies to look at her. but matt’s eyes never left you.

‘You bewitch me

Every damn second you're with me’

he watched your eyes become glossy, tears almost immediately streaming down from your face as you happily wept at the sight the girl you’ve known for years.

‘I try to think straight

But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart’

matt had to force himself to rip his gaze from you, now looking at nathan, who was biting his lip, doing little to nothing to stop the pools of tears coming from his eyes. matt could only think how lucky he was to get to experience this. to marry the woman he’s been so sure about for so long.

‘You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart

And bewitched me’

deja vu hit matt again, and it hit him hard.

“only time can tell” he remembers exactly how those words came out of his mouth that day.

“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”

you were right. you were always right. now he knew. time was all he needed.

‘You're not even gone

I already miss you

What's going on?’

he was too caught up in thinking that all good things come to an end, that his first love wouldn’t last, and it would only be a matter of time. you were the only good thing he didn’t want to end.

‘I've never been through

This all-consuming fire fuming

Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying

'Cause I think I'm falling’

a shaky breath released from his mouth, feeling the guilt of not realizing he wanted to marry you sooner, how you always did things for him, things you wouldn’t do for anyone else; you took care of him.

he lost count of how many times he pulled himself into reality from his own thoughts today, and as charlotte made her way to hold hands with nathan, she whispered an ‘i love you,” to you, matt finally felt his eyes gloss with tears, at both the sight in front of him and the thought of you. all of you.

he knew he wanted you all to himself, forever.

your eyes finally met his, not knowing he was looking at you this entire time. you gave him that smile again, a tear dropping down his face.

“i love you,” he mouthed, you let out a gentle breath at his words. he knew were usually the one to say it first, not like he never said it. he said it all the time; but you were quick to steal those three words from his breath without even realizing.

“i love you,” he watches you mouth back, doing your best to not interrupt the moment happening in front of the two of you.

he vowed silently to cherish you forever, love you ljke there’s no tomorrow, vow to make you his wife. vow to show everyone the way he looks at you, because that will never go away. matt almost selfishly knows you feel the same way, thinking about how you predicted the future of your best friends only half a year into their relationship. why would you stay with him if you didn’t feel that, too?

because when you know you know? right?

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (23)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, manipulation, blackmailing and threats ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Alys had always known that, like any bastard child, she could only rely on herself. Her existence was merely an unfortunate accident to her father and brothers, with which they nevertheless came to terms, and she, in their minds, should be grateful for being allowed to stay and serve in Harrenhal.

Indeed, she never considered herself to have been significantly harmed by fate.

Compared to women who had to sell their bodies for money in order to survive, her function as herbalist and wet nurse completely satisfied her.

Milk filled her breasts along with the baby that one of the guards had put inside her. When he pressed her against the wall and lifted her gown, panting that he had desired her for a long time she did not stand up to him, even helping him by bending over and spreading the folds of her womanhood before him so that he could more easily hit the right spot with the thick tip of his length.

This particular man never aroused her desire, however, he supervised her chambers, and since she allowed him to enjoy the pleasures of her body, he closed his eyes to when and where she went out, giving her more freedom.

His wife, however, was not comforted by the fact that her husband had a mistress.

She could not conclude that her husband was a good lover; his hands only clenched greedily on her firm breasts, his thrusts violent, fast and deep. She knew that as he chased his fulfilment hissing that he would fill her with his seed, it did not even cross his mind to touch her between her thighs or ask what would give her pleasure.

She did not, however, resent him.

She recognised that this was how men were.

Although she tried not to think about it, the sight of his wife, one of her father's servants, filled her with remorse, for although she knew that this woman did not love him, she humiliated her every time she took away what belonged to her.

She had nothing to justify it, but she knew that if she told him to stop she would arouse his anger and his behaviour towards her would change.

He might want to take revenge on her for rejecting him.

She couldn't allow this to happen.

What he didn't know was that he wasn't the only man she allowed to sink between her thighs for the benefit; it was easier and sometimes even more enjoyable than trying to bribe them with money, which she didn't have much of anyway. What she was able to do perfectly was to observe people from the sidelines − their reactions and desires, coming to her own conclusions about what they needed and wanted.

Usually these men wanted not only sensation and elation, but also reassurance, a warm word and understanding; they lay with their faces cuddled between her breasts, muttering for her to stroke their heads, and she did so, allowing them to turn from men into innocent children for a moment.

The women in the fortress began to whisper among themselves that the ease with which she seduced men and with which she maintained her beauty despite her age was due to the fact that she was a witch.

She smiled piteously as she strolled through the corridors of the fortress, overhearing their conversations from afar, hearing about the potions she gave to poor, unaware men so they could not forget her, that she bathed in milk and blood to keep her face young and bright.

She did not deny the accusations, because she derived satisfaction from the fact that they feared and avoided her.

Fear, however, also tended to provoke interest and curiosity, and the young, newly arrived servants who were just learning their trade could not tell what they thought of her.

When she needed a break from the men's sweat and their aggressive, deep thrusts she sought peace and solace in the arms of young girls, much more gentle and understanding when it came to the nature of female fulfilment, their sweet moans and surprised expressions as she caressed them made her feel a pleasant pulsation between her thighs.

Although the prospect of becoming a mother did not fill her with particular joy, when she woke up one morning, feeling a pool of wetness under her thighs and saw blood, the squeeze in her throat and the tears she felt under her eyelids were proof that some part of her hoped she could love this innocent creature that was growing inside her womb.

This did not happen, however, and she, not wanting to waste her milk, from which her breasts had already swollen, decided to feed the children whose mothers had too little nourishment.

She considered her life quite prosperous and peaceful until her father and half-brother died in a fire.

Until Larys became the Lord of Harrenhal.

Everyone, including her, feared him.

He was like a writhing viper, tightening slowly around the necks of those who aroused his suspicions, his gaze black and completely blank, as if he experienced nothing, felt nothing inside himself.

He could not be seduced, appeased, pleaded with, persuaded.

He was like a stone, merciless, cruel, taking satisfaction in domination and power.

She never got in his way.

One evening, however, he summoned her to his chamber, and she feared what he desired.

When she stepped inside he was sitting at the table, having just eaten his evening meal. He smiled slightly at her in a way that made her feel the cold sweat on her back; his eyes remained indifferent, glowing mischievously in the firelight.

"Sit down, sister. I wish to discuss something with you." He said softly, and she swallowed hard, keeping an indifferent, satisfied face, looking at him from under half-closed eyelids. She sat down opposite him in one of the chairs, spreading out comfortably in her seat, sighing quietly and nodded for him to speak.

"We will have guests of honour. Prince Aemond and his wife will be arriving here within two days to spend the night here and then head off the next morning to meet Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon." He said calmly, putting a few pieces of cake from the tray onto his plate, with a hand gesture he encouraged her to eat as well, but she shook her head, analysing his words quickly.

She had heard of them.

Prince Aemond had married and taken his niece's maidenhood on the same night he chose Maris Baratheon as his wife.

His brother the King, to save the situation, married them in the eyes of the Seven before an enraged Borros Baratheon could arrive in King's Landing demanding justice.

There would not have been all the commotion if Prince Aemond had taken her as his second wife, but he clearly only wished to have one, therefore, Maris was sent away with only a dowry and humiliation.

Her half-brother continued, seeing the lack of response on her part.

"I want you to host them well. Both of them, if you understand what I have in mind. Myself and his grandfather do not believe in the success of their mission. Like most of the kingdom we know how it will end: with a war. A war we wish to win. However, our Prince, if I may say so, does not think with his mind now, but rather with what he has between his thighs. He gives in to his wife and her persuasions to bring about a reconciliation. I know you are well acquainted with human nature and will surely win both her trust and his heart."

She chuckled under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked at her fingers, trying to hide the horror and squeeze in her stomach she felt.

He wanted to expose her, to put her head under the Prince's sword if it turned out that her attempts would only enrage him, and he could wash his hands of everything.

"In any case, in a few days' time the matter of the succession will resolve itself with the help of my birds in the Eyrie. They know what to do. Of course, I'll let our Prince believe that his decision matters, however, everything is already arranged. I hope this should settle the matter. With the help of the gods, the girl might try to take her own life for the second time. Let us raise our cups for that." He said lightly, as if indeed such a course of events would please him the most; she looked at him in disbelief, thinking that she had not even noticed when he had become such a disgusting creature.

A monster that, like a black, empty hole, was consuming everything around him, destroying it and crushing it.

She wasn't in a position to refuse, and he knew it.

That was why she walked out with him to greet their guests, thinking she would simply do what he ordered her to do.

She blinked as the figure of a petite, pretty girl jumped down from the shimmering blue and silver dragon, her long, dark hair of a shade similar to hers tied into a braid, its unruly strands dishevelled by the long journey through the skies.

She stepped out in front of them, breathing heavily, her eyes big, full of curiosity and uncertainty, her gaze warm, kind, her cheeks all flushed from exertion. She stopped in front of them and forced herself into an innocent, almost childlike smile, from which she felt a squeeze in her gut.

Gods, have mercy.

"Your Grace. What a joy." Said her brother. The girl blinked, not knowing for a moment what to answer, shifting from foot to foot.

"My Lord Strong. Thank you for being willing to host us." She muttered at last, clearly tense − her was voice pleasant, melodious, soft, the kind that gives comfort with ease, brings peace of mind.

They all turned their faces towards the approaching figure as they heard his footsteps; Prince Aemond in his long black leather coat and black eye patch indeed looked like someone menacing, commanding, as powerful as the great dragon he was riding.

What immediately caught her attention was that as his gaze traveled over their faces he stopped at his wife, assessing her figure from afar as if quickly examining whether she had suffered any damage after such a long journey and whether she was well.

He must have evidently concluded that she was, for his gaze turned after a moment towards her brother.

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters."

The Prince and her brother moved first, followed by his wife, looking around the interior of their fortress with genuine curiosity, not even listening to what her brother was saying.

She didn't even notice that her uncle was glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, checking that she was near and in no danger.

She thought he would sooner stab her in the heart than take her to his bed.

Her brother opened the door of the chamber that had been prepared for him, the largest in the entire fortress, not coincidentally located close to hers. The Prince, however, did not look impressed; his lips pressed into a thin line in disapproval when he heard that Lord Strong had assigned his wife other quarters.

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." He said coolly, as if the very suggestion was offensive and insulting to him.

He had kept her with him the whole time, she thought in disbelief, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the girl standing next to her.

She stood, gazing at her uncle as if she were looking at a statue of one of the gods; her bright, shining eyes large and filled with affection, devotion, longing, even though, after all, he was standing in front of her, at her fingertips.

She realised, swallowing quietly, that he had not taken her by force the night he married her or any night after.

How long had they looked at each other like this?

"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you." Her brother replied.

Prince Aemond then looked at his niece with a gaze as if he was about to explode − his wife pressed her lips into a thin line, immediately understanding what the expression on his face was meant to convey to her, her look of understanding and sigh was meant to add to his patience.

His gaze softened and after a moment he nodded, letting her go.

The girl looked at her, so she smiled quickly and pointed with her hand the way they should go to her quarters. Before moving behind her she looked at her husband, the Prince leading her away with a cold, sharp gaze.

Overwhelmed by this revelation, no longer knowing herself what she thought of it or what she should do in such a situation, she simply followed her into the room, closing the door behind her. She watched quietly as the prince's wife walked to the window, placing her hand on the glass, and smiled slightly, noticing something outside.

Had she been like this all the time?

"Do you desire to change into something…more comfortable, Your Grace?" She asked finally, recognising that she needed to start any light conversation, to try and understand who was standing in front of her.

The girl shuddered and blinked, as if forgetting her presence for a moment, turning to face her. She nodded, forcing herself to smile, unsure and embarrassed, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex.

"Yes. What do they call you?" She asked lightly and kindly, willingly shortening the distance between them, which surprised her.

Usually women of her ilk took satisfaction in calling her Lady Rivers, reminding her every time that she was a bastard.

But she, even if she was married to the Prince, was also one.

She was her relative, her brother's daughter.

She swallowed hard at that thought, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

"Alys, Your Grace."

She lowered her gaze, as if pondering something for a moment, and then her bright eyes looked at her again.

She thought with pain that she was like a small flower, a daisy or a forget-me-not, which one picked to weave into one's hair, to feel as innocent as a little child again.

"I would not wish to… misunderstand who you are and what you have in common with Lord Strong, Alys." She muttered with some sort of embarrassment, from which she involuntarily burst out laughing.

Good gods.

"I am not his mistress. I am his relative, though I do not bear his name, as any bastard would." She said softly, amused; her gaze shifted, her brow furrowed in concern and curiosity.

She knew what she was going to ask her, she could feel it in her bones.

"Did you know my father?"

She named him as her father even though she was officially Laenor Velaryon's daughter.

She admitted to her that she too was a bastard without a grimace of embarrassment.

"Yes, Princess."

Her whole body tensed, her hands clenched into fists.

"His death wasn't an unfortunate ordeal, was it?" She asked in a trembling voice, and her lips involuntarily lifted in a dangerous smirk at the thought that her directness was surprising her.

Was this how she spoke to her husband?

Was this how she forced her way into his heart?

"There are no such thing as unfortunate ordeals, Your Grace."

A silence fell between them filled with the weight of their words and what they meant; she licked her lips involuntarily, feeling that she was incapable of denying herself the pleasure of having to see her reaction to her words.

To see if she was right.

"After the word has reached us here all the way from King's Landing, I have been looking forward to our meeting with impatience, and while I will admit that it is not what I expected, I am beginning to understand your husband's desperation." She said with amusement, feeling a tingle in her fingertips and in her lower abdomen at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

"What do you mean?" She mumbled quietly, embarrassed; however, it was not shame feigned and exalted, but more an expression of genuine surprise and excitement at her words.

"Men are easily driven to desperation, though it usually takes time. They like to gain and take pride in what they have conquered; the greater, in their mind, the value of what they enclose in their embrace, the less they are willing to let it go." She said calmly, turning her head away, immersed in her own thoughts.

"Your husband follows you with his thoughts even when he is not looking at you. His head, even when he is not speaking to you, is directed towards you so that he can see you out of the corner of his eye. When he feels discomfort, he involuntarily seeks your face to experience understanding and comfort."

She looked at her, wanting to see her reaction, and sighed almost imperceptibly, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the sight of her parted, plump lips, her dreamy, hot gaze.

She knew that she had felt something at her words, that it had taken deep root in her heart and made her return with her thoughts to her husband.

Was this how she had looked at him when he made love to her?

She could not imagine that he could take her maidenhood brutally and cruelly, that he would allow her to cry beneath him in pain.

No, she thought − he surely took her with slow, lazy thrusts of his hips, letting her get used to his shape deep inside her, assuring her in a whisper that just a little more.

She felt a strong throbbing and tickling between her thighs at that thought and licked her lips, looking up at her again − her gaze lowered meekly to the stone floor, a soft, thoughtful smile on her face.

She decided on second thought, helping her change into one of her gowns, touching her soft skin, smelling the wonderful scent of vanilla in her nostrils, that she would braid the most elaborate hairstyle she could think of on her head, just so she wouldn't have to leave her chamber before supper.

She knew that her half-brother expected her to then take the opportunity to venture into the Prince's chambers to make sure he was not missing anything.

Therefore, she began to braid her soft, long, dark hair, creating a beautiful, complicated hairstyle surrounding her head.

She escorted her to the proper quarters and bowed, Larys gave her one impatient look.

She felt a cold sweat on her back, leaving immediately.

He was not pleased.

She thanked the gods that the Prince's wife had summoned her herself, wishing her help with her bath, giving her another reason not to head to her husband's chambers.

She thought that if she went on like this perhaps the situation would work out in such a way that she simply wouldn't have the opportunity to do anything, though even if she did she wasn't sure Larys would believe her.

As she walked into her chamber she saw that she herself was trying to untie her bodice, so she approached her, undoing the tangles with ease, looking at her face with curiosity.

"Was the Prince pleased with his wife's appearance, Your Grace?" She asked softly, noticing from the corner of her eye that the girl had lowered her gaze, ashamed and saddened.

"Yes. Though he expressed his opinion that he prefers it when my hair is loose." She said with resignation, and she couldn't stop the smile that appeared on her face.

Of course, she thought.

The sight of her loose hair reminded him fondly of how it had been spread in disarray around her head, shining in the darkness of his chamber as he fucked her greedily.

"Oh, that's understandable. He surely associates it with your intimacy and closeness, as any man would. The entwined curls and braids are for those around you, meanwhile the softness of your hair, the smell of them, the sight of them spread on the bed is something meant only for him." She replied lightly, for some reason wanting to lift her spirits and comfort her; she heard her move in place, the sweet blush appearing on her cheeks again.

She was embarrassed, she thought with disbelief and tenderness, as if she were looking at a small child.

She was so innocent.

Was that what attracted him to her?

The idea that he was surrounding her with himself like a dark cloak, devouring her again and again?

"You know a lot about men…don't you?" She heard her uncertain, curious voice; she looked at her in the reflection of the mirror, noticing that she immediately lowered her gaze, as if she could not bear the intensity with which she was looking at her.

"Yes, Princess."

"Have you seduced many yet?" She asked intrigued, and she smiled again involuntarily.

"Yes."

When her gown finally fell to the floor she saw her girlish, pleasing curves peeking through from under her nightgown. She watched as, with a light, confident step, she walked over to the bath and bore herself into the hot water, tilting her head back, sighing in relief, her head still adorned with the braids she had woven herself.

Such a pretty little thing.

"I would like to … make my husband happy tonight. I know he needs relief from what's about to happen tomorrow. However, I can't do it, at least for now, in the way I usually do." She mumbled out at last, looking at her with those big, warm eyes of hers, seeing in her apparently her guide, someone who could help her with these complicated and intimate matters.

She felt a pleasant squeeze in her lower abdomen at the idea that popped into her head.

"The easiest thing to do in that case would be for you to use your mouth." She replied amused, drawing out of her exactly the reaction she wanted − her cheeks turned scarlet, her gaze fled downwards, her tiny long fingers clenched into small fists.

She was wonderfully embarrassed, so sweet that he would have gladly shown her everything, step by step.

"I'm…inexperienced in these matters." She confessed with shame, and she involuntarily licked her lower lip with her tongue, feeling the throbbing between her thighs at her words, her nipples hardening under the material of her gown.

Gods.

"I see." She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad as she moved slowly towards her, her surprised gaze lifting to her as she knelt right next to her tub, cupping her wrist in her hand.

Her skin was as soft as silk.

Her gaze escaped involuntarily to her breasts, now perfectly visible through the wet material of her shirt clinging to her bare flesh; she felt a tickle in her swollen lips at the thought that she longed to lick and caress them.

She was sure that as he teased and sucked her nipples she moaned sweetly beneath him, begging for more, and he always, always gave in to her.

Because how could he refuse her?

"I can show you how you should do it, if that's what you wish, Your Grace."

She saw her pupils dilate in disbelief, her lips parted as she swallowed hard, her chest beginning to rise and fall in accelerated breaths.

"…How?"

She couldn't stop the smirk that appeared on her lips, nor what she did next.

She heard her sigh quietly, surprised and thrilled when her lips ran over her pointing finger, enveloping her skin with her hot breath.

"Imagine that this is his manhood. Men don't say it out loud because pride won't let them, but they adore it when a woman shows them with gentle, tender caresses." She whispered, running her swollen lips up and down her finger leaving a sticky, warm trail of her saliva on it, surprised at how wet it made her between her thighs, how wonderfully arousing it was, how obscene it was.

She heard her draw in a deep breath without moving away, but as she guided the tip of her finger between her lips, teasing and licking it lightly with her tongue, out of the corner of her eye she noticed that her thighs clenched in some helpless, subconscious reflex.

What other reactions could she draw from her?

"− and then − when he begins breathing faster − when you feel he's completely ready −" She sighed quietly as she suddenly slipped her whole finger deep into her mouth, feeling her swollen folds pulsate hard again and again as she began to suck it in slow, steady movements with the quiet click of her saliva.

She heard her gasp on the verge of a moan as her tongue began to trail over her skin with her low murmur of satisfaction, her free hand involuntarily sliding down to the material of her gown, wanting to slip under it and bring herself to fulfilment with her own touch.

She slipped her finger out of her mouth with a loud plop and looked up at her − her face all flushed, her gaze dreamy, hesitant and warm, as if she herself didn't know what she felt or why.

Something in her gaze made a pleasurable heat spill over her lower abdomen as she dug her own fingers into her fleshy folds, all sticky with her moisture, pulsing aggressively with her every stroke in pleasure.

"− you pretty little thing − it’s usually him taking care of you, isn’t it? − he can’t deny himself − I can’t blame him −" She whispered, trying not to move her hips so that she wouldn't notice anything; she lost the battle with herself as she felt herself getting closer and closer to fulfilment, pushing against her own slit with the tips of her fingers.

Unfortunately, it turned out that her husband was more vigilant than she thought.

When he burst into his wife's chamber she barely had time to remove her hand from under her own skirt and let go of her, standing quickly and bowing before him.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" He growled, and she walked out obediently, grateful in spirit to the gods that he hadn't stopped her to question her, that he hadn't noticed the glistening wetness on her fingers.

Or he saw it and it infuriated him, she thought with amusement, feeling her heart pounding like a mad in her chest.

She finished what she had started in her chamber, bringing herself to fulfilment with sure, swift strokes of her fingers, driving their tips into her sensitive, fleshy womanhood, able now to afford to moan and rock her hips, imagining her body peeking through from under her wet nightgown.

She imagined that she knelt before him to lunge and soothe him, that she barely fit his fat cock in her small mouth, all swollen from the desire she had always aroused in him, that this proud, dark, cold man whimpered before her like a small, innocent boy when he finally gave in, thrusting again and again deep into her warm throat.

She came with a low moan of relief, panting heavily, hugging her face into the pillow, rocking her hips for a while longer, slowly coming down from her peak.

She was sure that as she lay half asleep, feeling a blissful, pleasant peace, she heard their moans in the distance and grinned involuntarily.

Of course he forgave her.

He always did.

She often had dreams whose meaning she did not understand; she saw people she had never met before, observing events that might as well have happened in the future or in the past. That night, however, her dream particularly troubled and worried her, as she had no idea what it actually meant.

Two streams of blood finally merging into one, flowing like a river, which then, however, became a lake that reminded her of a dragon's head in a crown, only to spill over after a while, and she saw nothing but red.

Was this what was about to happen?

Would Princess Rheanyra and Prince Daemon be murdered and another dragon's reign begin upon their blood?

She swallowed hard, thinking of that young, cheerful girl, of how obvious it was that she was not aware of anything, that whatever her uncle-husband knew, he had not shared it with her.

She thought that if he betrayed her, she would wilt like a flower, fade like the sun in a setting sky.

She stood up and headed for his chamber.

His gaze expressed nothing less than disgust and rage at the sight of her. He reached for his tunic, dressing it hurriedly, tense and pale, knowing full well what was to happen if the negotiations did not bring the results he hoped for.

She wondered if he realised that even if he didn't give the order, they would be murdered anyway.

"You will betray her." She said indifferently, and he threw her a quick, horrified look, his nostrils quivering in disbelief.

He knew perfectly well what she was referring to.

She thought that sometimes all it took was a gentle push, putting a mirror in front of someone's face to make them think carefully again about whether they were ready for the consequences of their choices.

"You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most. You will break her. You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again. You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing. You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death."

She said and grinned, seeing that he shuddered all over, that his mask had cracked, his lips parted as if he wanted to groan in despair.

She knew he saw it in his mind, felt it in his heart, and she left his chamber without a word.

She let out a loud breath as she walked down the empty corridor, thinking with some kind of hope that her words, the vision she had invented to break him would terrify him enough to make him fall to his knees before his wife and confess everything he knew.

And if he doesn't, if in fact he betrays her, it will prove that he was never worthy of her.

She had come to her summons when she wished to clothe herself; she saw, crossing the threshold of her quarters, that she too was frightened and anxious, only for completely different reasons.

She wished for them to come to an understanding.

She believed it was possible.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought, at the realisation that she was alone in a world where everyone but her craved war, craved power, craved the throne.

She did not look at her face, at the clear command of her husband not allowing herself any closer proximity to her, which she accepted with understanding.

After she had fastened the buckles of her leather coat, however, she allowed herself to take her soft hand in her own, stroking it with her thumb.

She hesitated and furrowed her brow, but before she could move away, she began to speak, forcing herself to whisper, fearing that her brother's servants might have heard her.

"Do not return here. Fly from the Eyrie straight to King's Landing. I saw in my dream a river of blood taking the shape of a dragon's head wearing a crown. I saw red flooding everything around me." She said quickly, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

She thought in disbelief that she pitied this girl.

"This warning, these words, are my gift to you. Look after yourself. Trust no one."

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Four

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My Sweet Unfamiliar,

Do not look for betrothal in other men. I will admit I was not looking for a wife in these letters, merely fun to distract from the banality of court, but a personality such as yours has me rethinking it all. If you were to have me, I would take you by horse or by wheelhouse or by ship to anywhere that would please you. However that means I must find you first. My list has gone from six to two in the past week; and I feel all the more confident that I shall find you soon. 

At the tourney I swore I could see you, yet I was not sure if your eyes were on mine. I saw one lady sure and steadfast and utterly bored by the entire event until the final one, and I assumed it had to be you. Though, I am uncertain if my affectionate gaze carried to where you could notice. I do not find you too forward, Sweet Unfamiliar, as when I find you I will be difficult to restrain myself from kissing your lips bruised. I find myself besotted by you despite not knowing you, and I regret to inform you that I will be forever envious of the man who claimed your first kiss. 

To read a work as forbidden as Wylde’s must mean that you are a lady of some pull at court, as that book is not so easily come upon. I too have read it, stolen away from my studies by the temptation of the restrictions placed on the text. We may have read two of the only copies that still exists. That is yet another clue you’ve given me to your identity. Though I must wonder, what did you learn from it? Did you enjoy what you read? Do I dare ask further? No, I shall not. It is unbecoming of a man of my stature, and unbecoming to ask you so plainly. Hence, though, it will be what I dream of.

Congratulations, My Unfamiliar, you have just convinced me to learn Jenny of Oldstones. You are correct, what a beautiful and haunting song. What a careful and remorseful tune. I will be sure to learn it well for you so that I may play and you may sing. Surely, I do not know your voice, though I am sure if I am taken by your personality your voice will do the same for me. 

To answer your queries, I will say that I believe love can be both: fated and fleeting. Some people, I truly think, are meant to be together. Yet the world makes that a fleeting thing. To think how many great love stories are cut short by senseless tragedies, or circumstances keeping two apart? To think, My Unfamiliar, how easily we could have never known each other like this?

Congratulations, My Unfamiliar, you have just convinced me to learn Jenny of Oldstones. You are correct, what a beautiful and haunting song. What a careful and remorseful tune. I will be sure to learn it well for you so that I may play and you may sing. Surely, I do not know your voice, though I am sure if I am taken by your personality your voice will do the same for me. 

I would never wish for you to dance without music, and thought I will not be playing at the next feast, I will be requesting the song. 

At the next feast, what will you wear? Will I be able to finally put a face to the lovely letters?

If you give me the word, I will use it, and use it often that night. I will even shout it if I must! But I do not wish to, instead I wish to whisper the word to you, in hopes that quietly, privately, we can discover each other. Then, and only then, will I claim that dance. 

And if we are brave, I will claim that kiss. 

Hopeful and waiting,

Your Unfamiliar

You sigh as you cross names off your list, half exasperated and half thrilled. 

Your sentiments are returned, a faceless phantom of a man, wants to kiss you wants to take you traveling wants to play you music. This man seems genuine, sweet and caring; Yet also passionate, bold and forward with his affections. The idea pleases you, that someone in this big stagnant castle is forcing movement within you. 

And more than anything, your affections are returned. This man, whoever he may be, finds your personality as attractive as you find his, and he wants to kiss the breath out of you. Admittedly, your first kiss was not one to commit to any history. It was a kiss with a lower lord from the north during the early days of your life at King’s Landing hastily done and even more hastily finished. For a fortnight after you had convinced yourself that kissing was worthless and betrothal even moreso.

You hope this one will be better. You hope it to be the soft lips and passionate embraces you’ve read about. A Caution for Young Girls as a read did nothing but excite you, with tales of adventure and travel and wild romance that feels so foreign from what you’ve been given so far. You want to experience at least the thrill of these things. 

But that isn’t something you’ve ever voiced outside of these letters the past few weeks. Especially not to Alicent, who sits at the next table over and pours over a list of invitations. She has been revising them all afternoon, worry marring her beautiful features and making her look much older than she is. 

“I cannot make any waves with this,” she mutters, not exactly to you, but also not to no one. She has been making excuses for over an hour now, though it falls on understanding and also inconsequential ears. 

“You have invited everyone of honor,” you tell her, for the fifth time since lunch. You close your journal, confident in the names you had crossed out of your now list of potential suitors, and rise from your seat.

“Let me see that,” you ask her, and the corners of her lips rise as she hands you the parchment. Throughout the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the dropped formalities between the two of you to have a profound effect on Alicent Hightower. You realize that maybe you are the first person to address her as an equal since herself and the princess fell out. Granted, you are not her equal by a long shot, but she has allowed you to be free tongued almost as much as your Unfamiliar. And she seems healthier for it. Your eyes scan over the guest list for the feast, all of the lords and ladies of all of the great houses of Westeros besides Dorne, and even a few of the more notorious Pentoshi merchants and their wives. This included notable vassals and knights from each of the seven kingdoms, as well as the High Septon and his advisors. 

“I cannot see anyone who would be missing,” you tell her “Unless you’d like to invite a Dothraki warlord, I think we are good to start penning these.”

She laughs, more than just a scoffing sigh. Not a full laugh, but still more than just a sigh. You give the list back to her, and she waves over two of her maids. They quickly take their supplies and get to work, writing out each invitation diligently, drying the ink and then rolling the parchment to be delivered by raven to every great house in the seven kingdoms. Alicent always gets jumpy at feasts, and you do not doubt that you will be sat next to her again at this one. You only hope that despite sitting with the royal family, you will be able to do your little investigation. With any luck, you will be able to get out onto the dance floor and converse with some of the men. 

Alicent was right about these letters, and brilliantly so. Even you yourself, who while supporting her doubted you would enjoy them, now has her to thank for the reinvigoration of the court. You trace your thumb across the spine of your journal thoughtfully, as Alicent hovers over the girls writing. 

“That will not make the invitations be sent out faster,” you tease the queen, your gaze still turned downwards, and from the corner of your eye you can see her spin on her heels. 

“You are right,” she concedes, and comes over to you, “Perhaps we should find somewhere else to go and stop pestering these lovely girls?”

She asks, and you fumble with your purses, tucking away your journal and supplies. 

“A wonderful idea, Your Grace,” you smile at her as you stand, and hold out your arm to her. 

Alicent leads you to one of the balconies overlooking the training yards, a nice shady spot with a light crossbreeze and ample seating to lounge on and far enough away that you cannot actually hear what the knights are saying over the sounds of your own conversations. It is one of the more peaceful parts of this side of the castle, though it is not one you come to often. She has two serving girls bring fresh water and lemons and a spread of cheeses and you quickly situate yourself on the cushions of one of the settees on the balcony, pulling your skirts up as you kick your legs up onto the cushion next to you. You stretch your legs and point your toes before you finally sit back onto the cushions, lounging yourself as you reach for a piece of cheese and some bread. This is not the ideal spot she could have taken you. You would have rather gone to the gardens or even one of the sitting rooms where you could call in one of the musicians. You could be just as content pulling up your skirts and lounging there instead of just out of the reach of the sun’s rays. However, you suspect that there is more than one reason why she has chosen to come here: her brother, and the fact that often the maester’s bring her sons here after their lessons.

Soon Aegon and Aemond will come bounding into the training yard to hang from Ser Criston Cole’s arms and climb the man until he offers to put a training sword in their pale little hands. That, at least, is always entertaining and gives you a good laugh. The poor Kingsguard always looks so lost and desperate under the boys’ onslaught. 

“A sea of blue down there,” Alicent remarks, tipping the cup of water to her lips, “Many men seemingly showing off their loyalty these days.”

She is indeed correct; many of the men training below- save for the Kingsguard- wear blue tabards or bits of cloth pushing the sweat off of their foreheads or other adornments worn to be flashy as if there is some favor they’ve been given. 

“Perhaps Gwayne has shared the book he borrowed,” you joke, but your mouth runs dry when you realize he is among the men in blue. Instead of his normal Hightower Green, his tabard is a deep royal blue like that of a sapphire. By wearing this, he is showing to everyone he is loyal to a lady; and it’s not lost on you that the crown he placed upon your head was also blue. Does he mean to signal to all of court that he is loyal to you? That you and he are bound to one another? The thought brews an anger behind your gaze. He knows you are looking for your writing partner, and yet he pulls this stunt to obscure your availability. Now any man at court could come to some conclusion. The knights are probably already coming up with rumors of how Gwayne finally shut up the shrill companion of the queen. The ladies can probably already guess and assume the things you’ve done with him in hidden corridors and behind bookshelves. Gods, the entire idea of it has you feeling angry to the point of sickness. 

You grab three more pieces of cheese, shoving them into your mouth hastily. Maybe, with enough aged cheeses, you can brighten your quickly souring mood.

“The book you showed him?” Alicent speaks, and you actively cringe as you swallow your bite. 

“A Guide on Courtly Love,” you scoff, attempting what you can to not give away too much. For some reason, to tell Alicent all of what has gone on feels too intimate for her station. If you told her all of what’s transpired between you and her brother, all of your feelings, the letter’s contents.

“Gwayne asked you for that?” She asks, as if in disbelief.

“Yes?”

It is Alicent’s turn to scoff. She does it politely though, with her dainty hand over her mouth to disguise her obvious smile.

“He did not need that,” she explains, “Believe me, he is well versed in the acts of courtly love.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, and then wave over one of the serving girls to bring wine instead of water.

“As a boy, he was obsessed with becoming the best knight in all the realm. He studied the blade, clearly, but he also read every guide on chivalry and courtly love and every famous old story or fable about knights and their gentleness and goodness. I am certain he has read every single written word that exists on the topic.”

She delivers this news completely unaware of how it changes your view of the past few weeks interactions with her brother. All you can do is hum in response, and reach for the goblet of wine the serving girl brought over to your side table. 

You sink into your wine and cheese quietly, a front of content in the afternoon to hide a churning mystery unraveling below. 

Maybe it will not be the colors of your house that you wear, you think. Now the sight of deep blue almost making you nauseous. You could wear all black, as if in mourning, but you’d already promised to save your black dress for the masquerade the king wanted to old. Plus, this is the celebration of the birth of a prince. Black may be too much an omen. Green is out of the question, as is gold. 

You look down to your goblet, ruby red wine sloshing around and dripping down the inner sides of the silver cup. Ruby red. Thats it! Rubies. Maybe a dress color isn’t what your Unfamiliar should be looking for, but a jewelry color. You’ll wear rubies, earrings and a big ring! Big enough for him to press his lips against before a dance with you

You’re shaken from your thoughts by a new voice.

“Was my performance at the tourney not enough to showcase my skill in honor of the crown?” Gwayne calls out, smiling as he ascends the staircase to the balcony. 

“Brother! Of course it was, I simply wanted some fresh air,” she motions towards him to sit next to her, scooting herself over on her settee. She pats the cushion as she makes herself smaller, your eyes on her hands and on the fine upholstery instead of the man intruding on the quiet afternoon. 

“And my Queen of Love and Beauty, how are we?” he asks, his voice loud and cheerful. 

“Lovely, just lovely,” you sneer, tipping your goblet to your lips again, “Until you showed up.”

“Please do not start,” you hear Alice grumble, but neither of you listen. It is her turn to focus on the cheese rather than the situation at hand. 

“Here I was thinking you’d finally fallen off your high horse,” he spits back, “Such poisonous lips yet whom do I catch ogling me like I am a piece of meat?”

“I do not ogle!” offense makes your voice rise an octave as you slam your goblet down onto the side table. 

“Then what do you call it? Watching me with eyes that are not becoming of an unmarried lady? While my pious sister sits by?”

“Do not bring me into this game,” Alicent sighs, and Gwayne does indeed back off slightly, leaning back on the settee farther away from you. You push yourself to sit up, kicking your legs off your settee. Though, you do not miss the way that Gwayne’s eyes are glued to your legs, bare as your skirts flutter and reposition themselves. You shake your head, incredulous. 

“And you say I am unseemly in my gaze? What of your eyes, Ser Gwayne?”

“I am simply looking at Love and Beauty.”

You set your jaw tightly, looking away from the Hightower siblings. Below, Aegon and Aemond are actively smacking Ser Criston Cole with their training swords, right on schedule. 

“My Queen, may I retire to my chambers? I feel I’ve had enough of the sun today, it is heating my blood in a way I don’t find favorable,” you ask, sighing deeply as you reach for another piece of cheese. 

“How many times must I remind you to call me Alicent?” she chuckles, exasperated by whatever it is going on in front of her, “But yes, you may. I’ll call upon you when Helaena wants to see you before bed.”

You nod, and rise to your feet.

“Thank you, Alicent.”

You give her a smile as you depart, but it fades the moment you turn away from her. 

“Why must you push her?” you can hear Alicent’s voice the moment she believes you are out of earshot. 

Unfortunately, you cannot hear Gwayne’s answer.

Hours later, you hastily pen another letter, after looking into your wardrobe and in fact finding a perfect dress for the feast. The annoyance from earlier leaves your system when you finally get to sit down at the writing desk by candlelight. Sweet solitude clearing your mind, so you can only focus on him. 

My Hopefully Discovered Unfamiliar,

This letter will be brief. More brief than we are used to, but I feel confident we will not write much longer unless we truly want to. I feel we will find each other at this feast to celebrate the birth of the Prince Lucerys. 

I will leave you, perhaps an answer that teases you, my findings upon the writings of Corinne Wilde: I have learned much. I know much. I enjoyed it. 

I fear we were almost ghosts of a story, and I must praise our Queen Alicent for creating this letter system. I think I agree with your philosophy on love regarding Jenny of Oldstones. 

I will not tell you the color of my dress, for in truth I have not picked it yet, but my jewelry will be rubies. Blood red rubies. You will know me by rubies. 

Our word will be CLANDESTINE, and I want you to learn to dance an Almain, if you are able. If not, I am sure a man like you will catch on quickly. 

Yours, hopefully unveiled,

Your Unfamiliar

You fold the paper thrice before sealing it into the envelope, heart fluttering in both panic and excitement. 

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.3

Chapter Summary: Joel joins Tommy to meet the Fireflies and set up a trade agreement. They come back to Jackson with more than they expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, mentions of slavery

WC: 5.4K

Series masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: a reminder this story follows a slightly different timeline. Ellie was born pre-outbreak, but she was little when it happened.

Joel couldn't believe the past day and a half really happened. The rollercoaster of emotions you put him through left him stunned and shaken, wondering how he could read everything so fucking wrong. He found himself questioning everything now, replaying conversations, wondering if you had ever alluded to your feelings about marriage and a family that maybe he misread, misconstrued. Twisted and built up in his mind to fit into his stupid fantasy. One, he acknowledged, wasn't even in the forefront of his mind until his brother brought it back up to the surface. And suddenly, he wanted it, too. Like some resentful child who saw another playing with a toy he hadn't paid attention to in months, then demanded it for himself.

But he had thought about it, well before Tommy decided to man up first. He had the ring, but he never did anything with it. Why? Deep down, had he known you wouldn't want that? Was he subconsciously protecting himself by never acting on it? Or was he truly just waiting for the right time?

Even with Tommy's news, he still hadn't come up with a plan to actually ask you to marry him. He just allowed the fantasy to play out between your legs while he continued to make up excuses as to why he was holding off. Maybe it just turned him on to have a secret. Maybe he just wanted to have you, mark you, claim you. He knew he had a bad jealous streak, but would he have let his possessiveness lead him this far off track?

No. There were real reasons why he wanted you to be his wife. You made him want to be a better man. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. You brought out sides of him that others, including himself, never knew existed. Good things. You made him believe in happiness again, after his heart had been stomped on, making him treat everyone around him so poorly, even his own family. At a time when he felt so undeserving, you made him feel like the only person in the world. Even back then, he had a hard time believing you could actually care for him, but you saw through his bullshit to the man he was underneath, and you loved him for being him.

You had this way of looking at him like he was capable of anything. And with you by his side, he felt like he really was capable of anything. He did things he never thought possible to keep you both safe, as did you. You killed for each other. Not many people can say that. That meant something. The trauma and pain you both endured for one another had to mean something more. There was no doubt you both had proven what you were willing to do for the other, so it was only natural he wanted to commit himself to you. Say the words, vow to you in front of everyone you knew and loved that he would happily devote himself to you for the rest of his life.

So why didn't you want the same?

Ages ago, when the pair of you stumbled into the hellscape that was Kansas City, his ex, Amy, had mentioned offhandedly that you were only with him for protection. At the time, he shrugged it off, knowing full well it was bullshit just to get under his skin. But now, against his better judgement, he was rethinking those words. Rolling them around in his head, wondering if there was any truth to it.

"You been real quiet," Tommy said, pulling Joel out of his misery, surprised to suddenly find his brother next to him as they made their way on horseback down the mountains. Joel shrugged, averting his gaze ahead to the three other men leading the way.

"You mad at me for puttin' you on patrol yesterday? I'm sorry, Carl got sick and I didn't have anyone else," Tommy continued.

"Nah, it's not that," Joel replied, still staring straight ahead. "Didn't sleep well, is all."

"Ah," Tommy said, a playful smile pulling across his lips. "She send you off with somethin' to remember her by?"

Joel huffed and rolled his shoulders, his anger bubbling below the surface as he thought once again about the night before.

"Not exactly," Joel responded, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Tommy hummed in response but remained quiet, trying to read his brother from the corner of his eye.

"Everythin' alright at home?" he asked, unknowingly hitting the nail on the head, causing Joel to clench the muscles in his stomach, like he was bracing for a punch to the gut.

"It's fine. What's the plan for when we get to this place?" Joel asked, quickly sidestepping the subject, something that was certainly not lost on his younger brother, but Tommy allowed for the change in conversation, anyway.

"We're gonna meet up with their leader, woman named Marlene. They're lookin' mostly for weapons, but they need other stuff, too. They got lots of medicine and first aid to swap. Bill's been runnin' real low on antibiotics, considerin' how fast the town is growin'," Tommy said with a sigh, readjusting in his saddle. "Girls sent me with a list of inventory, highlighted all the stuff we have a surplus of and all the stuff we could use more of. Remind me to thank her for helpin' when we get home," he said, keeping a close eye on Joel's reaction when he referred to you.

"Sure," was all Joel said in response, refusing to let him drudge up the topic. The wound was still too fresh, and he needed time. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what was going through your head, and it scared the shit out of him.

Was it marriage and kids in general you didn't want, or was it marriage and kids with him?

He should have asked. He should have stayed instead of storming out that night. Instead, he let his emotions get the better of him and left you all alone, likely crying until you fell asleep if your swollen eyes the next morning was any indication. When he saw you, saw the distress etched in your perfect features, he wanted to pull you into his arms and never leave for this fucking trip. And he damn near did just that, until you confirmed it was a false alarm, and his heart was torn all over again. It was then he realized he had been hoping you were pregnant with his child, and there would be no choice but to face the next challenge together. Then he would be able to prove to you that it was a good thing, that you could, in fact, do it. And so could he.

Now, instead, he wasn't even sure where you two stood. You had said you still wanted him before he left, and that gave him hope. Hope that maybe not all was lost, that you could repair the damage that was done and come out stronger in the end for it. That maybe he could, in time, prove to you that he would be a good husband, a good father.

But then, Amy's words crept up in the back of his mind since he left. Somehow, years and years later, the woman still managed to torment him, making him believe he wasn't worthy or good enough to possibly have someone like you. The same way she manipulated him into thinking he deserved to be betrayed by her when they were engaged, that he didn't give enough of himself, that she warned him she needed more and he refused.

He shouldn't have gone on this trip.

"Alright, we're losin' daylight, let's set up camp and get an early start tomorrow," Tommy announced, much to Joel's relief. He didn't want to admit that, just a mere few weeks away from his fortieth birthday, his back and knees were aching like he was a much older man. He slid down from his saddle with an audible groan, then tied his reins around a tree trunk before giving his mare a few loving pats along the crooked white blaze that split her face.

He unbuckled his sleeping bag from the saddle and shouldered his backpack, dropping his belongings unceremoniously to the ground before he and Jake headed out with a couple hatchets to collect some firewood.

He didn't mind Jake so much anymore. He was quiet, kept to himself and, fortunately, didn't seem to harbor any resentment towards him from the time Joel put him in the infirmary for kissing you. His bad temper mixed with his jealousy nearly killed the man.

Afterwards, he thought he lost you.

You left him, asking for time to process what happened, upset that he didn't take your word for it when you promised him the kiss was a misunderstanding, that you handled it. You viewed it as distrust, he viewed it as protection. It wasn't until later that he realized he was harboring his own trauma from failing to protect you from a past sexual assault.

As he carried an armful of firewood back, he reflected on everything you had been through together. The outbreak, your parents, the time you were stabbed, the assault, the breakup, the accident that nearly killed him. Not to mention all the infected and raiders that threatened you both at every turn. Was your relationship strong enough to endure one more massive hurdle?

They were deep in the woods, the terrain favorable. The trees hid the fire well, and the vast, empty land kept infected away. Still, each man took a quick turn overnight to keep watch. It hardly mattered when Eugene gently shook his shoulder, alerting him it was his turn to watch. He can never sleep well when he's away from you, anyway.

Joel was almost grateful when they reached the hospital late in the afternoon the next day. It was the first time in two days he was able to stop thinking about you, his mind swirling with images of your trembling lip and your tear stained cheeks. He frequently wondered what you were doing, if you told Maria or Carrie about your argument. Were you packing up your things? Would he come home to an empty house? He wasn't sure his heart could handle it again.

You said you still wanted him.

You said you loved him.

But he didn't say those things back, and he left.

Even if you were fighting, even if it was the most significant disagreement you've ever had, he still wanted you near. He could never silence that driving force inside him since the outbreak that screamed keep her safe.

When they approached the hospital, they were all searched, weapons confiscated, as expected, before being ushered inside to meet the leader of the strange group called the Fireflies.

Marlene was a taller woman, with a firm jaw and eyes that could look right through you. He could tell right away she was not to be trifled with, that she took her role seriously in this little revolution she was spearheading. Although the people they had met since arriving seemed very intense, he didn't feel threatened. And he usually had a good instinct for those things. Usually.

They were in the hospital cafeteria, the five men, Marlene, plus a few others seated around a large, circular table as Tommy and Marlene exchanged pleasantries, both parties trying to make the other more comfortable. Joel hadn't really been listening. He was scanning the room, watching the guards pace by the doors regularly, the sentries standing watch with their hands resting on their rifles as they watched the exchange from a distance.

A small group of women entered from the door behind him, heading towards the kitchen to begin food preparations. Joel's eyes glanced over the group of four, three middle aged looking women who kept their eyes pinned to the ground, and a young girl with brown hair, tied back away from her face. She didn't look to be a day over thirteen, and she was the only one who looked around the room, her eyes locking with Joel's. He stared at her, his brow slightly furrowed as he tried to assess the situation. She continued to hold his gaze as she followed the other women, and although her body language gave nothing away, Joel felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something seemed off.

"Isn't that right, Joel?" Tommy was saying, snapping his attention away from the girl, who he saw in his peripheral disappear behind a door into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry?" he replied, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together on top of the table, trying to look focused.

"I was just sayin' how we know of a few police stations in some small towns that have barely been touched. Wouldn't be much effort for us to get a group together when we get home and go ransack 'em, take just a few days to hit 'em all," Tommy said, his eyes flicking from Joel to Marlene, then back again.

Another trip. More days away from you.

"Yeah," Joel replied, nodding his head and ignoring the pit in his stomach. "It's not enough for an army, but I reckon any little bit helps."

"In the meantime, lemme show you our inventory list. See if anything jumps out at you, and we can work on gettin' those guns," said Tommy as he pulled the list out of his coat pocket and smoothing it out on the table.

Marlene reviewed the list, her dark eyes flicking over the paper quickly with a few hums here and there as she took notes.

"Looks good, but we mostly need weapons," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I could probably do with some fresh vegetables, I think everyone's getting sick of the canned shit. And shampoo. But that hardly is a match for antibiotics." Her eyes shifted back and forth between Joel and Tommy, and the corner of her mouth turned up as an idea hit her.

"I do have another offer, though," she said, leaning forward. "It's not what we discussed, but if you're willing, I could send you home with half a box of penicillin now, and the other half after."

"After... what?" Tommy asked a little hesitantly.

"I'm lacking manpower at the moment. My guys are stretched thin, we're planning a hit on the soldiers at the Boise QZ. I need you to take someone to the hospital base we have in Salt Lake City. It should only take two days to get there, and I just need you to make sure she gets there alive," Marlene said, pressing her pointer finger into the table on the last word for emphasis.

Tommy glanced at the other four men, clearly not expecting to run errands for these people in exchange for medicine. Joel could see the wheels turning in his brother's head before Tommy spoke.

"Show me the meds first," he said to Marlene, and she quickly lifted two fingers up from the table, blindly addressing someone behind her to exit and do as he asked.

"What's the catch?" Joel asked, his defenses going up.

"No catch. Just need to get her out of here and with my other group, and I don't have the time to do it myself," she said with a shrug, but Joel knew better. She was trying to act casual, but he saw her knee bouncing under the table.

He shouldn't have come on his trip.

Once Tommy laid eyes on the unopened vials of medicine, medicine Jackson could really use since Bill, the town doctor, had been rationing enough as it is, Joel knew his decision was made.

"Done," Tommy said with a nod, extending his arm to shake Marlene's hand, which she eagerly reached out to do.

"Tommy," Joel said quietly, annoyed his brother didn't run the decision by the group first.

"Give me a little bit. I'll go talk to her so you can hit the road right away. John, please give these gentleman half the box of penicillin," Marlene said as she pushed her chair back, the legs making an awful screech against the dirty, linoleum floor. "Dinner is about to be served, please help yourselves as my guests," she added over her shoulder, leaving the dining hall.

"Tommy," Joel tried again, finally pulling his brother's attention. "A word?"

He led Tommy a ways away from the table so their conversation couldn't be overheard.

"What're you thinkin'?" Joel asked him, hands on his hips. "We don't do things like this."

"I know, Joel, but we're already out here, what's the harm? It's just a few more days," he said.

"I can't do a few more days, I need to get home," Joel replied, raking his fingers through his hair anxiously.

"I'll send Jesse and Jake back to let the girls know we'll be a little longer-"

"Goddamnit, Tommy, no!" Joel said, louder than he anticipated, a few heads from the table turning to glance his way.

"Jackson needs this medicine, what the hell's gotten into you?" Tommy asked with a frown, shifting his weight as he tried to read his brother's face.

Before he could reply, Marlene reentered the room alone, motioning for the two brothers to join her back at the table.

"Ellie's working in the kitchen, once dinner is over I'll send her to change and gather her things," Marlene said.

"Not a problem," said Tommy as he sat back down.

"Is that true?" Marlene asked, her lips pressed in a thin line as she held Joel's gaze, waiting for him to answer. He took a deep breath through his nose and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, not a problem," Joel replied bitterly.

Joel ate his meal quickly, desperate to finish this ridiculous task so he could get home. The longer he was away from you, the stronger his paranoia became. With each passing hour, he could almost feel the chasm between you growing, and he was beginning to convince himself there was no repairing the damage that was done. On both sides. Communication had never been his strong suit, but he thought he was getting better at it the past few years. Why did he go on this trip?

His eyes flicked up from his empty plate to see Marlene heading their way with the young girl he saw earlier in tow. His anger flared deep in his belly again, and he elbowed Tommy in the ribs to mutter angrily "she didn't mention it was a fuckin' kid" before Marlene could overhear.

"Ellie, these are the men I told you about. They're going to take you to Salt Lake City like we discussed," Marlene said, her hand resting on the girl's back. Joel eyed her carefully, noticing how tense her shoulders looked as she regarded the five men in front of her. His eyes drifted back to Marlene, wondering why on earth she was willing to leave this young girl with five strange men without a second thought. He decided she either was very desperate, or didn't care much for the girl.

Ellie readjusted her backpack on her shoulders and yanked on the edges of her long sleeved shirt, squaring her jaw as she stared them all down. Marlene crouched down to the girl's level and rested her hands on her shoulders.

"Remember what I told you. Listen to them, and everything will be fine," Marlene said, narrowing her eyes at Ellie. Ellie nodded, nostrils flaring before Marlene stood up to address Tommy.

"You need a map?"

"Nah, we got maps," Tommy said with a shake of his head. "This group know when we get there to give us the rest of the payment?"

"I'll radio the leader over there once you leave, let her know the deal," Marlene replied, stretching her arm out again to shake Tommy's hand.

"Alright, then," said Tommy, looking back down at Ellie and shooting her a small smile, trying to make her feel more comfortable. "You ready?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath and following Tommy out of the cafeteria.

They collected their weapons at the entrance before heading out, Ellie joining Tommy on the back of his horse. They didn't make it very far before the sun began to dip behind the trees and a quiet place was found to make camp for the night.

After getting a fire going, Tommy sat down in the dirt next to Joel, who had been leaning against a small oak tree, sipping from his flask and staring into the flames. The other three men were quietly playing a game of poker across from them, the occasional laugh or taunt floating in the air, while Ellie busied herself with a worn, paperback book further away from the rest.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on yet?" Tommy asked, taking out his own flask.

"Nothin's goin' on," Joel replied gruffly, eyes trained on the fire.

"What's makin' you feel like you need to get home so bad?" he pressed. Joel felt that anger swelling inside him again, up his stomach and through his chest, and for a moment he wondered if Tommy knew. That maybe you told Maria and she let something slip.

"I told you, it's nothin'," he snarled, taking another sip from his flask and letting his eyes drift over to the girl. "Just wish I knew you were signin' me up to be a goddamn babysitter before comin' on this fuckin' trip."

"I can hear you, you know," Ellie said, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.

"Good," Joel said, jutting his chin towards her, finally finding something to take his anger out on. "What's your deal, anyway?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, sitting upright and letting her book fall to her lap, a flash of stubbornness not unlike his own reflecting in her eyes.

"Try me," Joel argued, his jaw clenching. Ellie glared at him, silence falling over the camp as everyone waited for her to speak. She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, clamping it shut and casting her eyes down. Joel scoffed, not ready to let the topic go just yet. Angry that this child was keeping him from home, from you. Angry that his brother agreed to it, like a fool.

"C'mon now, let's hear it. What makes you so fuckin' special?"

"Joel," Tommy said under his breath, a warning, reminding him to watch his language, that she was just a kid.

"Why should I bother? You're all the same, anyway! No one ever listens to me, 'cause I'm just some kid, right? No one-" she cut herself off, stopping herself before she said too much.

"Who's all the same?" Tommy asked gently, trying to coax the information out of her. She shrugged and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

"The people Marlene hires. Dragging me all over the country like I'm... whatever," she said, stopping herself yet again.

"So this ain't the first time Marlene sent you off with a bunch of strange men?" Joel asked, the edge still in his tone but he could feel his resolve softening, somehow feeling bad for this little girl despite his own problems.

"No," was all she offered, glaring at Joel again.

"Are you in some sort of trouble, kid?" Eugene's voice asked from across the fire. The silence that followed was deafening, only the crackle from the fire filling the air. Ellie's eyes shot over to Eugene, looking him up and down, trying to keep up her steely resolve before giving up and turning her back on the group, announcing she was going to bed, and burying herself in the sleeping bag that was way too big for her.

Joel stared at the back of her head, trying to connect the dots with the context he had available to him, but he couldn't figure it out. Tommy shifted next to him, clearly lost in his own thoughts, as well. Wondering for the first time if he had gotten them all in over their heads.

The following morning, Tommy sent Jake and Jesse back home to let everyone know they were going to be a few days late. The three remaining men and Ellie packed up their supplies early, hitting the trail as soon as possible, ready to make a dent in the long road ahead. Eugene led the way, followed by Tommy, then Joel brought up the rear, his eyes burning holes in the back of Ellie's head as she clung to Tommy's denim jacket to keep her balance on the back of his horse.

Joel chewed the inside of his cheek, still feeling bitter, about everything. You, Tommy, Ellie. All of it. Since he couldn't get to you, and Tommy already got him in too deep, he chose to direct his energy towards Ellie when they took a break midday.

"Marlene send you with any food, or are you takin' that from us, too?" Joel asked, sitting down on a fallen tree trunk with a groan.

"I have food. And what else could I have possibly taken from you?" Ellie replied curtly, sitting further down the log as she opened her pack to fish out some granola bars.

"Time," Joel snapped. "And we don't even know why we're doin' it."

"Isn't Marlene paying you guys?" she replied with a huff. Tommy's eyes toggled back and forth between Joel and Ellie, becoming exasperated with the constant bickering.

"Can you just drop it, Joel?" Tommy asked. "Who cares? It's an easy gig, and we get meds out of it."

"Oh, she's giving you meds? Wow, she must be really desperate," Ellie chimed in.

"Alright, I've had enough," Joel said, standing up to tower over the girl. "Spit it out. What're we doin' here?"

"Fine, Joel," she said, stretching out each syllable before standing up, fists clenched at her sides. The way she said his name set his teeth on edge. "You wanna know how you're helping slavers move cargo? That the answer you're looking for?"

The three men froze, clearly not expecting that. Tommy stood up now, his head swiveling between Eugene and Joel as he processed the information just dropped on them.

"Wait-" Tommy said, stretching his arm out to Ellie, but she cut him off.

"Yeah, that's right. You still think this is a pain for you?" she snapped, glaring at Joel even though Tommy was the one who spoke.

"Stop!" Joel shouted, holding his hands up in the air as silence fell over the camp. He pointed his finger to Ellie.

"You. Explain. Now."

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as he silently listened to Ellie tell her story. Her parents were dead. She was taken from her aunt and uncle's house at a young age, forced into slavery for the past few years: laundry, cooking, cleaning. Sometimes for twelve hours a day. Said she's been with the Fireflies a long time, that they keep moving her from base to base but she claimed she didn't know why. Joel had to wonder how much of what she was saying was the truth. There was no doubt something was happening at that hospital, but slaves? Something just didn't add up.

When she finished her story, she nervously glanced around at the men, waiting for one of them to say something. Tommy sighed and motioned to the woods.

"We need to talk about this. Privately," Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at Ellie. "You stay here."

"Fine. Not like I can make it on my own out there, anyway," she said with a snort. She picked up a stick from the ground and began drawing into the loose dirt at her feet.

"We're takin' her back, givin' back the meds, and goin' home," Joel said the moment they were out of earshot. Tommy shook his head.

"Joel-"

"This is enough, Tommy! This ain't our business. Any other option here puts the whole town at risk, puts Maria at risk, puts-" he stopped himself, biting his tongue before saying your name. He hadn't thought about you for the past half hour. A new record.

Tommy wasn't an idiot. He knew something was going on, but he couldn't focus on it, having a much bigger problem to sort out.

"She's a kid. We can't take her back, and we can't take her to Salt Lake City. It ain't right," said Tommy gently, hoping he would make his brother see through whatever was plaguing his mind and look at the bigger picture. Joel frowned and glared at the grass below his boots, clenching and unclenching his jaw as his mind struggled to wrap itself around the situation.

"Eugene?" Tommy said, turning to raise his eyebrows at the older, and suspiciously quiet, man. Eugene sighed, dropping his shoulders like he was carrying an enormous weight.

"I agree with Tommy," he said, and Joel spun on his heel, angrily pacing a few feet away to take some deep breaths.

"So, what? We take her to Jackson? We don't show people where we live for a fuckin' reason," Joel reminded them, his back still turned on the two men.

"We take her back, just a bit, til we can find where her aunt and uncle were livin', and we'll take her back home," Tommy said, the gears in his head turning as he formulated the plan on the spot. "In the meantime, we tell the Fireflies she ran off in the middle of the night. Maybe if we can get those guns to 'em, we can still keep the antibiotics."

Joel scoffed and shook his head, turning around to glare at his younger brother.

"This is stupid and risky. Lyin' to those people don't seem like a good move to me."

"Yeah, well, it's the only move we got, Joel. Otherwise, we're just as bad as them," said Tommy, his eyes drifting through the trees to make sure Ellie was still perched on the log where they left her. "I won't ask you to help take her back to her family."

"Damn right, you won't," Joel muttered, rolling his shoulders angrily. He stared off in the direction of Ellie, his jaw ticking off to the side with his hands on his hips, lost in thought.

He shouldn't have gone on this trip.

"Alright, is it settled, then? Can we hit the road, go back home?" Eugene asked, clearly tired of the bickering. Joel glared at the other two men before stomping back over to Ellie, who stood when she heard the men approaching, eyes flicking to each of their faces. Joel brushed past her to scoop up his bag from the ground and jumped back up on his horse with a grunt. At least he won't have to be away from you any longer. Not that he was sure what to even say, he just knew he needed to see you.

"C'mon, kid. We're takin' you to our town," Tommy said, motioning for her to grab her things and follow him to his horse.

"Really?" she asked excitedly, a small smile playing on her face for the first time.

"'Til we can get you back to your family, yeah," he replied, holding an arm out to help her scramble up the back of his horse.

Joel remained quiet the next day and a half, inwardly brooding about the potential blowback from taking this kid, which then morphed into nerves when he realized he was a few hours away from seeing you again.

When they arrived through the gates of Jackson, he didn't watch Ellie's eyes light up when she first saw the town, the people, the animals, kids her age playing. Maybe if he wasn't so focused on searching for your face in the small crowd that welcomed them back, then he would have seen how happy Ellie was. How, for maybe the first time in years, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe if he wasn't so focused on the ache in his chest when he didn't see you, it wouldn't have come as a surprise when Ellie snuck off the first chance she got, bobbing and weaving down the busy street, eager to see what the town had to offer.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

[kurt-hummel-eat-your-heart-out]

Can you write something about the outsiders gang with a trans guy reader whos supper dysphoric. Or maybe coming out to them? I don't know just a thought

Yesss ofc! I decided to go with headcannons bc I can do a little section for each of the boys, I hope that’s okay. I wrote this pre-existing to the book/movie btw.

Transmasc! Reader x The Outsiders gang HCs

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•_Johnny Cade_•

Johnny is one of the first people you come out to

He’s generally the most accepting of the group at first

He helps you figure out how you’re going to tell everyone else and reassures you about it

If someone is upset or unaccepting towards you, he’ll make his disappointment in them known

And if Johnny is disappointed in you, you know you’re in the wrong

So he gets his point across very easily

Don’t let him cut your hair-

He will fuck it up so bad

We all know what happens when this boy tries to cut hair

Offers to get (possibly steal) things like men’s cologne or other little things for you

If you’re having a bad dysphoria day, call him. He usually knows what to say or how to distract you from it.

•_Ponyboy Curtis_•

A little confused at first

Not upset or anything, just confused

You’ll have to go into depth a little for him to understand

But once he gets it, he’s supportive

He already saw you as ‘one of the guys’ anyway, so this isn’t really a big difference to him

If he has some shirts or flannels to spare, he’s definitely letting you borrow them

He will also offer you a haircut

I wouldn’t trust him with hair either

He wouldn’t even bother with scissors, he’d just grab any blade and start hacking away

It’s the thought that counts

Not the best with comforting words, but he’ll listen if you need someone to talk to or hug you if you feel like shit

•_Dallas Winston_•

Really bad initial reaction, unfortunately

He’s really confused about it

He known you’ve never really been into all the typical girly things. Like makeup, skirts, all that

He knew you’d rather be caught dead than in a pair of pumps

But for some reason he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his head around the fact that you’re a guy

At first he sort of thinks you’re joking and doesn’t really take you seriously

But he comes around eventually (not without Johnny having to talk to him, though)

Once he kind of realizes how big of a deal this is for you, he becomes a little more protective over you

He’ll act really casual about it, but he secretly worries about you a lot

If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, he’ll take ‘em outside

•_Sodapop Curtis_•

Probably the second or third person you tell

Similar reaction to Ponyboy, you might have to go into detail a bit

But regardless, he supports you. He doesn’t really care what you do, as long as you’re happy

Like Pony, he’ll also offer to let you borrow his clothes. He knows it makes you feel a lot better to actually wear men’s clothes, so he’ll give you some of his

He really wants you to teach you how to do your hair if you end up cutting it short

He’s so going to teach you guy stuff, like he would love to

He’s in the room when Pony attempts to cut your hair. He immediately stops him before he can cut anything off, he already knows it’s gonna end badly

He’s also a little protective of you. If you’re around a lot of people in public, he stands next to you in case anyone decides to be rude.

•_Darry Curtis_•

You have Soda and Pony in the room when you decide to tell him

You aren’t really sure how he’s going to react, so you’re a little surprised when he’s supportive of you

Since he’s basically had to become a father figure to his younger brothers, he feels very protective over you now

He’s gonna give you a talk about how rude people are going to be and how you have to be careful (like you don’t already know)

He’s really worried about you. He knows how stupid people can be, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to you

If he has a say in it, he won’t let you go anywhere alone. He’ll always have Soda or Pony go places with you or walk you home

He’s gonna offer to get you a switchblade if you don’t already have one

He’s just very worried. He’s stern and overprotective sometimes because he cares, it’s the same way with his brothers

It’s just his way of showing love and that he cares

•_Steve Randle_•

Sodapop probably tells him for you, just because he’s not sure how he’ll react

He acts like he doesn’t really care, but he does

He honestly slips up with your name a lot in the beginning

Deep down he feels really bad about it, but he acts like he doesn’t care that much

He’s trying, I promise

He would steal things for you if you asked him to. He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but he’s glad you’re actually asking him to

It makes him feel like he’s helping or making things better in some way

If you’re younger than him, he’s definitely going to call you ‘little man’ to annoy you

He’s there to listen if you need someone to talk to about things, but he really won’t know how to be supportive. He’s not the most empathetic person, but he’s sympathetic to your situation

•_Two bit (Keith) Matthews_•

When you come out to him, it’s like probably the one time he’s ever been serious in his life

He even paused the TV for it

But after that, it’s back to his usual joking and tomfoolery

His way of ‘guy bonding’ is offering you beer and cigarettes every time you hang out

He kind of assumes you’d want to smoke and drink like rest of the guys, so if you decline he’d be a little surprised

If Steve isn’t calling you ‘little man’, he absolutely will

He’s going to have so many new nicknames for you now, just wait

Mister man, stud, boss, things of that nature. It’s not to make fun of you, he just thinks they’re funny

He’s for sure going to go make fun of you if you’re short, though. Unless it bothers you and you ask him to stop. But if you aren’t super bothered by it, he’s so doing that

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Thank you for the request, I hope I wrote something you liked:) this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any typos as always.

[wonryllis]

04. can you afford her a McLaren?

PREVIEW. you always get what you want, spoiled with the love of everyone around you. and it's all innocent love, at least that's what everyone thinks. it comes with much surprise therefore, when heeseung makes a move on you. thirteen long years of being in the brother zone having made him utterly clueless that if he’s going to date you he has to pass through your actual brothers first. and he knows how scary they can be. especially since they are known to have a sister complex and he’s been the third scary one with them, numerous times before.

MEET THE CAST. insanely love struck BRAT TAMER lee heeseung with his SPOILED BRAT RICH GIRL reader.

WARNINGS. swearing is kind of mild, jealous heeseung yeah, jakehoon!, YN IS HELLA SPOILED behavior here!!! wealth and class differences!

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

READ THE WRITTEN PART UNDER THE CUT! ( 2472 words. )

you stand alone behind the bleachers, fixing the ribbons in your hair, and dusting off the non existent creases from your ironed chanel set. time and again beomgyu’s words echo at the back of your mind, albeit like a little house fly buzzing into your ear, and running your patience thin.

what did he say again? not interested? huh, he got some nerves saying that to your face. it's a little funny how he is so ready to reject you for some other girl from his lit club? god that's so boring. so many guys dying to be in his place and he has the guts to outright say no⁠— when you, the princess of the campus wants him.

well not anymore. you got better standards than to run after a boy who's not grateful for what he is getting. eyeroll.

you recall his words in your mind, something along the lines of your brothers apparently forcing him to hang out with you, quoting that they were practically threatening him to act like he got something for you. well, if he thought you would be upset to find that out, then he was wrong.

you know you have always gotten what you want because your brothers always make sure of it, so it's not a surprise they were involved this time too. maybe you are just a tad bit disappointed cause it did not work this time.

but alas there is a line of men you can choose from and he is definitely not the best fish out in the sea.

the only thing bothering you though, is that he was the one to reject you and not the other way around; and as a matter of fact if this piece of information were to go around campus, you would lose your mind.

all those instances during your supposed dates with him where you felt the possibility of feelings being reciprocated, god you hate the you from there. when you think of it now, it looks so desperate and lowly to you, you feel ashamed to have run after a guy. especially, a guy who just saw you as his best friends’ little spoiled sister.

as you look down on the dirt smeared across your white heels from all the walking to get to this part of the bleachers, you swear by your strongest resolve: that you'd never ever chase after a guy anymore. lowly boytoys undeserving of your perfect self.

you do not think of who to blame or what to do after this. it really did not matter to you anymore, it was just over and done and you could not care to give anymore fucks about it.

a frown grimacing your face at the thought of walking through the same dirt filled path again.

“god what did i even see in him,” you mumble, carefully placing your heels on the ground, making your way out with dainty soft steps.

halfaway through, more like a couple steps out, you come across jake and riki bickering by the wall. whisper shouting things you can not make out the sound of, from the distance you stand at. hushed curses and nervous shuffling and shoving against each other until they spot you. eyes widening and arms halted mid-air and mid-fight as if you were the one person who was not supposed to see it all, at any cost.

the moment it settles upon them that you are walking right over to where they stand, they are immediately rushing to scurry away, stumbling upon their own two feet for the sake of god and falling over each other in animalistic screeches that annoy the hell outta your precious ears. mouth forming into a tight lipped awkward smile as you watch them push at each other in all that dirt and stand up after staggering like a duck numerous times.

it is irksome and displeasing to see them act like a bunch of unmannered pets yet you can not help but laugh out at how hilarious it is.

they chuckle nervously, jake scratching at the back of his head and riki clearing his throat, utterly clueless if they should make a joke out of it as you laugh or apologize for letting you see them get that unruly. probably the latter.

“jake, riki⁠—” “we are okay!” they yelp at the same time, turning to stare at each other when they realize they just cut you off. gulping, they pause for a second and holler out again,”are you sure—” “sorry you had to see that!” same words, same time, same intensity and yet again cutting you off. oh fucking god, let the ground swallow them whole.

unaware if they should apologize for cutting you off, they stand awkward, staring at their shoes, eyes hoevering over their dirty shoes to your dirty heels and then all over to your cutely scrunched face letting out little giggles.

they remain still hissing at each other while waiting for your giggles to seize. throwing in a giggle or two of their own so you do not notice the uneasiness on their face. and once you do stop, eyes perfectly glued to them in confusion, does their stress reach the peaks of mount everest.

“so what were you both doing here?” you ask, watching expectantly for a sensible answer.

“uh actually we— i mean i saw beom—”

before jake can speak any further, riki nudges his elbow into the other's waist and cuts him off, leaving the poor boy groaning.

“the cheesecake!” “cheesecake?”

“yeah you said you'd get me cheesecake if i’m there on time and met jake on my way and he asked me where i was going and i accidentally told him and he begged to come along too but i didn't really want him to tag so we were kinda fussing over that.” he explains in a breath,”yeah.” eyes unblinking as he waits for you to buy it.

“behind the bleachers?” the way your eyes narrow in on them, an unconvinced pout on your lips has them quivering in dread and panic. how are they supposed to explain that behind the bleachers was the perfect place to argue about, over something so irrelevant.

“well it's not everyday you get to go a vip exclusive cafe so i guess you both were really excited!”

or maybe not.

“yeah!” they shout in unison, relieved and finally able to breathe freely.

“well too bad, beomgyu kinda ruined my mood so i don't really feel like going anymore. next time i’ll invite you too jake!” oh. oh no.

and they fall into another dilemma, again, are they supposed to weep and curse beomgyu with you now or should they ignore it all and change the topic? should they leave you be and call your brothers or should they wait with you until one of them comes?

riki is the first to break the silence, already somewhat accustomed to your behaviours and what you might expect at a time like this.

“come on let's get you out this uh .. muddy place,” he mumbles, reaching forward and offering you his arm to hold onto while you walk in your heels. jake shifts uncomfortably in his place, disoriented and muddled over what he should be doing. sure there has been a few times he's met you so he, to a certain extent knows you and your ways, but it has always been with heeseung and heeseung has always known to treat you like a princess, worshipping the ground you walked on, not letting you feel uncomfortable or uneasy, even for a moment.

jake ponders for a second too long, and after much consideration holds out his palm to hold your other hand.

his eyes follow the way your clothes shine so pristine in comparison to the ground below, the stark contrast between the rough soil and pure ivory of your skirt and the diamonds studded at the front of your floral white heels. it does not take much for jake to realize just how different heeseung and you are, just how far apart you are.

in the delicate footings and the mud staining the gems on your shoes, jake comes to the sheer revelation of how uncanny it is for someone like you to ever take an interest in someone like heeseung. probably one in a billion times, it could be possible. and for heeseung to be that one in a billion times, there isn't much he could ever help with.

it's a sad realization, but there could only be so much one can do to overshadow the obvious differences to build love. after all it will ultimately all come down to feelings of the heart and not the material things heeseung could ever afford to do. and yet again there's only so much he could afford.

surely not an island. or a McLaren speedtail.

with little ‘watch out for the dirt’s here and there, the three of you are out in the field in no time.

as soon as you step foot on the clean grass of the sidelines, your hands slip away from both the guys and you walk ahead towards the front of the bleachers nonchalantly. taking a seat at one of the spots after you brush off the non existent dust.

“can you call seungie for me?” you ask, watching them hide away their phones in a startle as soon as you look over.

“actually let it be, i’ll just call him,” you mutter the moment their messages send. taking out your phone and dialling his contact while the two whisper to each other a feet away from you, trying to avoid any kind of eye contact.

within five minutes riki and jake both leave for their soccer practice.

and it takes heeseung a little over ten minutes after that to rush to the field. his frantic figure scanning the space to find you and as soon as his eyes fall on the bleachers he is making a run for it. out of breath and sweat dripping down the sides of his forehead when he halts before you.

almost knocked out by the ball in the middle, flying right into his head if not for his quick reflex of dodging it in time.

something about the way he seems to have rushed over, a look of panic etched over his pretty features, his tone one of worry as he asks you if you are okay and all of it just because you sounded a little bit upset over call makes you feel a twinge of fluffiness in a small corner inside of you. like a little flutter of butterfly wings grazing and tickling a chamber of your stomach that links straight to your heart.

you could have called yeonjun or soobin, knowing they would have dropped everything the moment you would have asked for them. but just something about the genuineness heeseung holds, something he does not have to, but something he does because he wants to, makes you crave to be comforted by him. strangely enough, for someone so spoiled who thinks of anyone less than them to be grateful to be looked at by them, lee heeseung holds a place in your heart that transcends your peculiar distaste and flawed view of class and wealth.

perhaps it is just the fact that you grew up together, hanging out over every break and occasions and special days for as long as you can remember. or perhaps it's because he is one of the few people besides your brothers who does not picture you as an ungrateful bitch(as some people like to call you behind your back) or perhaps you have grown a liking to him for he is there to take your side at every chance he gets.

or perhaps it's because he's lee heeseung, and you were just meant to let him into your world.

whatever the reason may be, you like to believe the kind of affection you have for him, is a tad bit different than what you hold for your brothers and it's also a tad bit different that what you used to hold for choi beomgyu.

the feeling you have for him, is special and in times like these it feels special to think that you are indeed, special to him too.

“tiny, are you okay?” heeseung asks periodically pausing between each word as he takes a seat beside you, the adrenaline pumping high through his veins.

“yeah, i am okay,” the smile you give him is as sincere as it could ever get, stretching wide across your face in a cute grin. you take one of his hands in yours, as always completely unaware of how his heart stops at your touch and place a strawberry candy onto his gym calloused palm. the one you got for beomgyu before he pissed you off. eyeroll.

“i got this for beomgyu but i think you should have it,” you say tracing a circle around the candy before looking into his eyes, cutting him off when you sense he is about to say something,”i want you to have it.”

“you— really— this is⁠—” heeseung struggles to speak, his insides going crazy over the situation. it has been a daily thing, you giving him candies every morning in the car while on the way to college. but it has never been one where you have given him something that was supposedly meant for someone else, someone else that you thought of in a romantic way. someone else that you thought of in a way that he wanted you think of with him in the picture.

to him, this was a small win.

“thank you, buns,” he smiles at you, finger reaching over to boop your nose, making you giggle.

“seungie, can we please go to that arcade you frequent? i really want to blow off some steam right now and i don't wanna take that out on you,” please take it out on me .. the puppy eyes you give him do little to distract him off the thought of you using him to feel better. oh man what wouldn't he give for that.

the look on your face almost making his heart and dick burst at the same time. how could he ever say no to that face? if you were to tell him to just put on a cock ring and deny himself of any oragasms with that look on your face, he'd say yes in a heartbeat ( leaving aside the fact that he'd probably lose control halfaway and pounce on you—) may god forgive him for thinking so unholy of a situation so innocent.

may, in time, yeonjun and soobin forgive him for thinking so unholy of their ever holy baby sister.

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[alexsoenomel]

Chokehold (Sam Winchester x Reader smut)

Request: Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I was reading Adrenlize Me and I had an idea for a part 2? Sam and reader have been getting at it for a bit but this time they finally say “I love you” to each other? Rough smut with a little dash of fluff? 🥰

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: sexy times and I love you’s, mentions of addiction 

Word count: 2.1k

Note: I apologize for being so slow (school+work+ADHD). Writing this made me realize how single I actually am.

 Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

PART 1

Addiction. First, it feels like a warm hug, sucking you in, disguising itself as something familiar, something beautiful, and finally, you feel like you filled that hole in your soul. Then it starts taking, it takes and takes until there is nothing left to take, until you cannot give anymore – until you’re dead. You find out, a little too late, that the warm hug was just a one-way ticket to your inevitable demise.

This started as a deep-seated need but turned into a full-blown addiction sooner than I thought, but the only difference was this was a blissful one, with no reaper waiting for you at the end. It only brought endless pleasure. 

Sam was no better than me. We couldn’t stop ourselves; every touch, every kiss would send us into a euphoric state, and it was better than any drug known to man. 

After our little adventure in Dean’s beloved Baby, we tried to keep our dirty little secret hidden. Sam would come to my room only during the night when he could hear Dean snoring in his room, and even then, we had to be careful since Dean was a light sleeper. He would muffle my moans with his hand whenever he was on top of me, he would sometimes even let me bite his shoulder, but it was impossible to be quiet, especially when we both liked listening to each other come undone. Long story short, Dean found out.

“Good thing you two lovebirds finally got together! The bad thing is now I cannot sleep.” He told us one morning while sipping his black coffee, clearly tired and cranky. 

Lovebirds.

That word was stuck in my brain that day. It still would pop up occasionally. It reminded me that we never labeled our little arrangement. When it happened, we would carry on, pretend like this thing was meaningless, and then we would do it all over again. We would cover every topic under the Sun apart from this one. We completely ignored it, but it was there, just around the corner, something more than just a meaningless hookup. 

Sure, he was able to make my legs shake, make me forget my existence, and his touch would set me on fire every damn time, but the way he would look at me right before I would come, the way we would look at each other…  I knew I was falling for him. 

We were birds of a feather –we connected through art, books, and music. We liked the same things but were far different characters. I was more of a 'Shoot first, ask questions later' kind of girl, like his older brother, and he was far from that. He was my voice of reason when I would let my emotions consume me; he was the one who would tell Dean and me to get our shit together whenever we would jump the gun (and that would often happen because we were both hotheads). We worked perfectly together. 

***

"God, I'm exhausted!" I said and put my bag on the table. 

We just got back from a hunt in Omaha, Nebraska, and it was a wild one. It dragged to no end until we finally ganked the ghost that was killing unfaithful men. I almost got thrown off the balcony, Dean almost got stabbed, and Sam, well he took care of it. Overall, I was just happy the case was over and, that I could sleep in my/Sam's bed. 

"Me too! Gonna hit the hay!" Dean said taking his shoes off. 

"Already? It's only 10 pm." Sam said. On a rare occasion, Dean would sleep early, he was the worst night bird in the flock. For him, 2 am was too early for bed, and mornings started at noon. 

"Sammy, I almost got stabbed today! Yeah, already." Dean said and disappeared into the hallway. 

"Night, Dean!" I said. 

"Night, night!" I heard him say. 

I was immediately hit with the realization that I was alone with Sam. There was something so alluring about him that made me nervous in the best way possible. It would boost my dopamine and adrenaline – like a drug. I swallowed nervously as I turned to see he was staring back at me and I immediately recognized the look – the look of devotion. 

"What?" I asked. He looked tired, with messy hair, and bags under his eyes. I was a tired mess too. During these days caffeine kept me awake and sharp since we were working night and day trying to solve the gruesome mystery. 

"Shower?" He asked.

"Please!" 

We went to his room since I would spend most of my nights there. What started as casual, grew to be a routine. I started hating sleeping alone in cold sheets – his warmth kept me safe. 

When we entered his room, pleasant silence joined us. We stripped down our dirty clothes and sins as we went to the bathroom. We didn’t say a word until warm water touched our tired bodies.

“Warm enough?” Sam asked me.

I nodded. He shampooed my hair, and I did my body while letting my muscles relax under the shower, feeling every part of me slowly shutting down from exhaustion.  Once my hair was nice and cleaned and I turned to face Sam, kissing where his heart was as I balanced myself on my tiptoes since he was much taller than me. 

“My turn?” I asked and got on his knees, like he usually would do when I wanted to wash his hair, and wrapped his hands around my waist, cupping my ass. It wasn’t the first time we showered together, the aftercare was as important for him as it was for me, but this time it felt far more intimate and real. The aftercare would usually turn into rough shower sex, leaving me breathless and sometimes even covered in bruises, but this time I saw true intimacy and meaning of showering together. 

Sam kissed my stomach as I washed his hair, sending light shivers all over my body. His hand went between my legs, and a light moan escaped from my lips. 

“All done!” My voice trembled. Sam stood up and kissed me hungrily. I could never get enough of his kisses, his lips were soft, kisses sweet kinda like cherries in spring, nothing like I’ve ever tasted before. He broke the kiss as our eyes met, water still running down our bodies. I could feel his breath on my lips. The air, even though hot and heavy, got a little bit chilly for a second – or was I getting nervous? I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I didn’t know why I was getting nervous. Everything that seemed familiar was now foreign to me. Even though we fucked a million times, even though we both had seen each other naked, I was still feeling that tickling sensation in the pit of my stomach. 

Sam turned off the shower. We did our night routine in blissful silence. Skincare, haircare, the whole nine yards…in blissful pleasant silence. Sam even started using my Vitamin C serum, when I told him how good it is for the skin. 

I was pleasantly surprised when he took a little bit of my hydrating cream after the serum. I would always use that after having a rough day on the job, it did wonders for my tired skin. 

“You’re learning,” I told him as I brushed my teeth. 

“From the best.” He simply said. 

***

I didn’t remember the last time I did my night routine in my bathroom – and it all started when Dean caught me leaving his room to get my toothbrush. 

“You two are louder than a jackhammer!” He told me as he opened the door of his room, messy hair, eyes barely open, clearly feeling creaky from lack of sleep…again. “Keep it down, or I swear I’ll kill you both!”

“Sorry!” I was embarrassed but trying hard not to laugh.

Ever since then, I decided not to leave his room during the night. So, naturally, I started leaving my stuff in Sam’s room. 

***

After we got in our pajamas; Sam in his gray sweatpants and me in my oversized blue T-shirt I “borrowed” from him, got under the covers. I could feel my whole body relaxing, as I let my mind drift God knows where…I was ready to fall asleep, but Sam had other plans. He wrapped his hand around my waist pulling me closer to him. His semi-hard cock was pressed against my ass, and I felt his lips on my neck. 

“Yeah, Sammy?” I bit my lower lip. 

“I don’t wanna sleep.” He mumbled between kisses. 

I turned around, missing the softness of his lips on mine. I kissed him, feeling the minty taste on his lips. My hand went in his hair, pulling him closer to me. He moaned when I pulled his locks, sending shivers all over his body. He pushed me back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of me, leaving kisses all over my jaw and neck. I loved his lips on my skin, I loved everything about them; the softness, the taste, the ability to make me wet in seconds… 

“You got me worried today,” Sam whispered between kisses. 

“Sorry, I was a hot-headed dumbass.”

I thought I could take down the ghost by myself. I didn’t stick to the plan and almost got thrown off the balcony when the damn thing attacked me – my mistake.

“Like always.”

And that’s why you love me. I bit my tongue. I felt my walls completely coming down under him. I didn’t care about labels, I didn’t care what we were, I just knew my heart was struggling to stay silent. I wanted to say those words as much as I desperately wanted to hear them from him. 

“Shut up and kiss me!” I told him instead. 

Sam pressed his lips on mine, this time his hand went down my stomach between my legs. His fingers were cold, making my skin shiver, but his touch bought endless pleasure. 

I could feel his two fingers in me for a few seconds before he pulled away. 

“Tease,” I said annoyed. He loved making me beg and feel desperate and I loved every second of it. 

He licked his fingers clean and kissed me letting me have a taste as well. 

“You are delicious.”

Everything about this seemed different. He was sweeter and far more gentle. Usually, he would tell me to be quiet, his good girl, he would be rough, but this time…he wasn’t? He had a gentle side, but I’d rarely see it. I felt something was different. I felt my heart connecting with his and my soul feeling closer to his own. 

“And you’re a tease.” 

He laughed, showing off those cute little dimples I adored so much. 

"Just a little. " He smirked before kissing me again. I was growing impatient, and it was like he heard me. He wasted no time, he moved my panties to the side as I helped him lower his sweatpants. He entered me slowly, letting me adjust to his size, letting me bask in the pleasure his cock was giving me. I buried my fingers into his damp hair, arching my back slightly. 

"You feel so good!" 

He would always tell me that. Every time. No exception. He knew his words made me needy, horny, and desperate…He knew what buttons to push. 

He started to move and that was when my heart decided to work against me…or it did me a favor? My eyes were lost in his, not wanting to break the contract. I was feeling every inch of him, slowly moving in and out, skin to skin….

"I love you!" 

I heard myself say. My heart was pounding, I could see his expression change as his hair was falling on my cheeks…he smiled and kissed me.

"I love you too!" 

I didn't expect this answer from him. At the moment it didn't seem real but I think we both knew it was coming. Between the constant staring, and flirting just to gross out Dean and the genuine connection we had, we knew…

Sam's pace became faster, and I was slowly losing it. His face was inches away from mine, feeling each other's breaths as my climax was getting closer. I could feel my body shaking, my nails digging into his back as I couldn’t get his name out of my mouth. 

“Come on, baby!” He whispered in my ear. 

I loved his voice, I loved his touch, his kiss. I loved him.

I came hard, biting his shoulder (Sam didn’t even flinch), not wanting to be too loud because of Dean and his “Next time I’m gonna kill you both” sentence. 

He kissed me before collapsing next to me. We were both panting, waiting for someone to say something, to break the ice that had already been broken when I told him I love you. But no one did. Instead, we fell asleep, my head on his chest, safe and sound. 

[oskea93]

Tis the Way the Wind Blows, Hummingbird (One)

Caleb Sykes x OC Horizon universe

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ Story will contain moments of physical, sexual, emotional, and verbal abuse, cursing, murder, suicidal ideations, childbirth, scalping, death, etc. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. If you've seen the film or just read about it online, you already know that Caleb is a bad guy. He will remain a bad guy throughout this story as well. He will not be liked and will be vile in every way. Just a heads up if you were looking for a happy Jamie story.

A/N: Oh my goodness guys, thank you so much for the love for this story! I am so glad you all are enjoying it so far! It's only gonna get more extreme and downright dirty from here. Also, if you have any questions about the story, just wanna talk, or whatever, just drop me a message!

● If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ●

Taglist: @austinswhitewolf, @carriewritesblog, @isla-bell-blog, @jcbbby, @eve18ahs

His touch would burn like a batch of fire ants each time he laid hands on me.

The searing pain as his grip would tighten – his cold blue eyes staring into mine as I would beg and plead not to hurt me in front of our children. I would like to say it hadn’t always been this way with Caleb but that would be a lie straight from the devil’s mouth. I would love to tell you that he was once a gentleman who was corrupt by the bottle – that his hands were once full of love and joy but for some ungodly reason I actually held feelings for the man.

I remember the first time I saw Caleb, standing in the dimly lit corner of the saloon, a shadow of a man with haunted eyes that seemed to mirror my own loneliness. His smile was a twisted reflection of charm, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. Despite the warnings that whispered in the back of my mind, I found myself captivated by his words, his presence filling a void I hadn't even known existed. In his arms, I felt a fleeting sense of belonging, as if for a moment, the world made sense and all the broken pieces of my heart were whole again. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the cracks in his facade began to show, revealing a darkness that chilled me to the core.

He was the youngest child of the vile woman who birthed him all those years ago – his father a philanderer who only arrived home when necessary. Rumor had it he had spawn all over the territory – the short woman he married long ago idly standing by as she knew there was nothing that could be done. The Sykes family were notorious among the Montana Territory – the fear they placed upon those wanting to settle was enough to make settlers treck along elsewhere. Some would say even the Indians feared the Sykes men – I would argue that on a heavy bible.

 Caleb’s anger more than likely rising from the hits of his mother and brother – always on the receiving end of a hand, foot, or even the butt of a gun at one point. I remember watching in the shadows as Junior almost beat him senseless for some measly reason – no reason good enough to knock your kin unconscious for hours on end. I was the one that had to drag him out of the snow that night – into the little shack that his mother had “gifted” us to make house in. The winter’s wind whistling through the loose logs, the fire barely staying lit as the snow floated through the home. When he awoke, he knew that there was no use in going after Junior, his hatred and fury landing upon my skin throughout the night.

I guess you may be asking how I even came to be with the blue-eyed devil – having enough dimwits about me to stay with a man like that. Well for one, it was an act of rebellion. I thought I could change him, hell, maybe even overpower him. I took the blows that he gave me each night, going to bed with tear-stained cheeks as he stepped out to go drinkin with his brothers. The other reason I stayed was because it was a sense of security. I had a leaking roof over my head, but it was covered none the less. I wasn’t wondering the land like the others out there, subjected to the harshness that the land was giving forth. The Sykes fortress was clear of any Indians – the dangers of being ambushed by them pushed at the wayside – unlike those that were travelling to their new homes.

I had married Caleb on the 24th day of January in the year eighteen hundred and fifty-two. The justice of the peace in the town below reading from the holy book as he weaved back and forth from the whiskey coursing through his blood. No kiss was shared – no joyous voices from our closest relatives. Just an empty room. I had run off from Grady’s house – my only bag packed – his best horse trotting underneath me. I had only known Caleb for a number of days before his hands slipped under my dress – the piece of me that I was savin for future husband taken away in a matter of seconds. I guess all’s forgiven in the eyes of God since I ended up marrying the bastard…

I watched as the snow swirled around the open air like paper scraps sent from the heavens above. The fire had long gone out several hours ago – my breath seen clearly as I exhaled in exhaustion. I hadn’t seen sight or sound of him in nearly four days – nothing uncommon nowadays. The wood burning smoke from the big house filtered through the cracks in the wood, the scent causing me to long for a warm room just for a moment of two.

Soft coos broke me out of my thoughts as I turned my attention to the little bundle in the center of the room. I had every blanket and article of clothing I could scrounge up piled atop her, trying to keep the cold off her small body.

“What’s wrong my sweet?” My feet carrying my body towards her.

She had her daddy’s eyes – bright blue and able to look right into your soul. Sprouts of red hair could be seen beneath the bonnet she wore, her little cheeks red with the touch of the cold. Emily was the daughter I longed for – a true gift from the Lord above. She was the second child – one that no one but me cared to have. She was the light of my life – the reason that I never gave up on myself against her father or his family.

I had given birth to Rory – our son – the first-born Sykes grandson seven years ago. Mama Sykes was at the head of the bed as he was born, quickly whisking him off before I could hold him. Caleb was celebrated for once in his life – having the workings to produce a strong male offspring – a male that would carry on the Sykes name and lineage. The Sykes women kept Rory at an arm’s reach from me during his infancy – only pushing him in my arms when it came time for him to eat. They would bring me into the big house as he fed and pushed me right back into the small shake once he was through. This was Mama Sykes dream to have another son she could mold and make her own. It was obvious that she wanted another son like Junior – Caleb being the lowest branch that she so badly wanted cut.

I watched as the years passed as my son shaped into a typical Sykes male. James and Junior would make sure to take him out, teaching him how to trap and hunt, something that a little boy at his age didn’t need to worry about yet. Caleb would just sit back and watch, the fatherly instinct never truly kicking in. He was seen more as Rory’s uncle rather than the his father. I’m almost positive that’s what Mama Sykes even taught Rory to call Caleb.

I would try my best to push my way into his life, only to get shoved back by the Sykes women. They didn’t trust me to be his mother – I was simply the woman that gave birth – not his mother. Hannah, Junior’s wife claimed that spot. Her evil glares cutting right through each time I would look at my son. Mama Sykes and Hannah would mutter awful words about me to Rory, finally breaking through to him. I watched as the baby boy I carried for nine months, suffering 10 hours in agony as I labored, just kicked me away like a speck of dirt on the floorboard.

I slowly picked my daughter up, bouncing her around in the quilt my mother had made before she passed.  “Flee as a bird to your mountain – thou who art weary of sin – go to the clear flowing fountain – where you may wash and be clean.”

The sudden sound of a shotgun going off cutting off the lyrics as my grip tightened on the baby. Stepping towards the window, the site in front of me causing my heart to thump against my chest. Gently placing Emily back into her bassinette, I tore open the wooden door, racing over to where my son laid.

“What the hell is happening?” My knees digging into the hardened dirt as I brought his limp body into my arms. His face bloodied and bruised as Robert and Junior stood above – Mama Sykes and Hannah watching from the porch steps.

Junior let out an annoyed sigh, “This doesn’t concern you, Elizabeth.”

“Like hell it doesn’t, Junior.” My tone biting back, fire raging through my eyes as I looked down at my little boy. My hand softly trailing down his cheek, his chest slowly rising and falling.

“He started the whole thing.” Robert, Junior and Hannah’s youngest son scoffed. “Ain’t my fault that he don’t got no fightin skills.”

My eyes cutting up to the younger Sykes, “That’s enough, Robert.” Junior sounded. “Go get cleaned up for supper.”

The boy followed his father’s direction, Hannah smiling at him once he reached the steps. Her last glance finding mine as she walked into the home. Mama Sykes stood stoic on the porch, her eyes dull and full of spite. “Junior, get Rory and bring him in the house.”

“No!” My arms wrapping tighter around my son’s unconscious body. “You will not touch another hair on this child’s head –“ My eyes piercing towards Mrs. Sykes. “None of you are touching my child again.”

“Ain’t your child, Elizabeth.” Mama spoke clearly. “Hasn’t been your child since the day he was born.”

I could feel tears of anger spiking in my eyes, “Oh yeah –“ A sarcastic chuckle slipping, “And who’s idea was that, huh?” Junior stepped closer. “You bunch of monsters took him away from me – turned him against his own mother for what? You see how well his father turned out – think I could’ve done a hell of a lot better than you, Mama Sykes.”

Junior’s large hands pried my arms apart, Rory slipping back onto the ground as he dragged me feet away. His grip like that of Caleb’s but only stronger. My words of pain going by the wayside as his foot kicked into my ribs, a guttural cry releasing deep from my body.

“Get that boy in the house before he catches a death of cold.” Mama’s raspy voice sounded.

Junior looked up to the matriarch, “What about her?” My body still curled into the cold ground. “Whatcha want me to do with her?”

The only sound could be heard was that of the winter birds around as the wind blew – Mrs. Sykes body staying silent for a moment. “She can find her way back.” Her eyes connecting with mine briefly as she turned to enter the home.

I stayed silent, face still pressed against the snowy ground as Junior lifted Rory into his arms, stomping his way up the stairs to the main house. The door slamming behind him once he crossed the threshold.

I waited a few moments before moving – the sharp pain of where his foot had landed making it hard to breathe as I slowly walked back to the building. The echo of Emily's cry reverberated in my ears, piercing through the chaos that had engulfed us. Each step felt heavy, burdened not just by the weight of my own injuries but by the fear and uncertainty that loomed ahead.

With a shaky hand, I pushed the door open, the hinges creaking in protest. Emily's tear-streaked face turned towards me, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and fear. My heart ached at the sight of her, so small and innocent in the midst of such turmoil.

"Shh, it's okay," I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely above a broken murmur. I knelt beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form. The warmth of her tiny body pressed against mine offered a brief respite from the cold reality that threatened to consume us both.

"It's okay, baby," I repeated, the words a mantra to soothe not just her but myself as well. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the world around me. In that moment, I felt the weight of responsibility crushing down on my shoulders, the knowledge that I must be strong for her, no matter how broken I felt inside.

I thanked God silently that Emily was so young, her innocence a shield against the harshness of the truth…

“How dare you disrespect my mother and brother like you did, Elizabeth!”

I sat in the corner of the room, the metallic taste of blood lingering on my tongue as I dabbed away the fresh crimson droplets that fell from my split lip. The throbbing ache in my jaw served as a painful reminder of the altercation that had just taken place, but my focus remained unwavering on the man standing before me.

"I was protecting my child – our child," I asserted, my voice steady despite the underlying currents of anger and frustration that simmered beneath the surface.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation, his movements agitated as he paced the confines of the cramped room. "That boy was two steps away from killing Rory, he wa-"

"Robert was teaching him how to act like a man – not some pansy whipped little girl," Caleb interjected, his voice tinged with defiance. The words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the deep-seated differences in our beliefs and values. "Junior and I did the same thing growing up – plus it’s not your word that matters anymore, Lizabeth."

I shook my head, a bitter taste of resentment flooding my senses. "Yeah," I muttered, my voice tinged with sorrow and anger. "You and your goddamn family took that right away." His eyes darkened as he advanced towards me, each step a menacing echo of the power dynamics that had long defined our relationship.

"I was just used as a cow to make sure he was fed and then put back in the pen like some kind of barnyard anim-" My words were cut short by the sharp crack that resonated through the home, the impact of the blow sending a searing wave of pain from my jaw to my temple.

“Always running that damn mouth of yours,” Caleb's voice was heavy with frustration as he hastily unclipped the holster from his waist. My body already knew what was about to happen as I scrambled to get off the floor, the urgency pulsing through my veins. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough. Caleb's strong grip closed around my ankles, his fingers digging into my skin as he yanked me across the dirty wood.

His dirt-stained hands pushing up the material of my skirt as his body straddled mine – my arms pinned to my side as my cries mixed with those of Emily’s in the corner of the room…

[slashingdisneypasta]

Foxy Coltrane x Crazy!Reader || Headcanons

Topic: Foxy with an S/O who hates Otis.

Warnings: Hating on Otis, curses, threats, smuttiness (Specifically meaning talk of cum, penis, and um... volume+proximity to other people)... look, its Driftwood-Coltrane fanfiction. Its not gonna be clean.

For as long as you've known this family, which is pretty much as long as you've been friends with Foxy (He brought you home his next time visiting them. He said you're crazy and you'll fit right in- which you do XD )- you have h a t e d Otis.

He brushed you the wrong way immediately when one of the first things he said near you was putting Foxy down (Someone you really like. Someone you genuinely just click with. Someone who later becomes more then a friend). You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, I mean brothers do mess with each other right?

But goddamnit. The more you tried to look for a redeeming quality in this piece-of-crap man, the less you liked him. He was just gross. He's gross, and cranky, and god d a m n i t, those r a n t s. Just shut up! You're not as smart as you think! No one is listening to you. You're the boss of no one!

Anyway, so your stance on Otis has been pretty steady since the beginning. You god along great with everyone else, cuz like Foxy said you a r e crazy, so they loved you and they didn't put you off at all. You could even have a good time with them when Otis was there, you just didn't really interact with him.

As for Otis' own feelings... well, Otis doesn't like anyone (Except maybe Baby. And he clearly has a soft spot for Mama Firefly too otherwise he would never have come down to dinner in the first movie and brought... whoever was in that jar for her. I cant clearly hear the name.). So he pretty much disliked you from the beginning too. Took one look at you, rolled his eyes and moved on.

Foxy... is a big fan of your distaste for his brother honestly XD Like, you like him more??? Really??? Hell yes. He is fucken better.

And every time that you snap at Otis (Whether it be because he said something rude towards your favourite person, Foxy, or just cuz he was getting on your nerves by... you know... existing- ), Foxy just has this shit-eating grin on his face and he'll keep you safe if Otis decides to lash out and try to hurt you for it. He'll aim a loaded shot gun right at his brother and mean it. And Otis will see that he means it.

(Sure, he may not intend to actually kill Otis like you might enjoy, just wound him, but uh- being shot is gonna hurt like a bitch no matter where the wound is)

It turns him on, too. Like goddamn- the moment you grit your teeth and growl or even spit at Otis- Foxy feels himself getting as hard as rock. The first few times this happens, he doesn't both you about it. He's a grown man, he can handle this. And by 'handle this', i do not mean jerk off. I mean he'll just, sort of, adjust his jeans and live with it until he stops being turned on and it softens up again?? He ignores it, basically. Yes, he will have a yucky creamy mess in his underwear (Or? Just his jeans?? I don't know if these men would wear underwear. They stinky) but eh he can live it. He's gross, you must know this.

One day either you notice it (I mean how can you not? I bet you good money Foxy's pretty large, bigger than Otis and thats saying something, and that would create a thick indentation in his pants 😅😅😅), or Foxy draws your attention to it (Having decided that, yeah. He does wanna fuck his friend. Lets give this a try and see if you're into it), and welllllllllll~

That begins your more then friends thing with Foxy XD

And oh! Yes. You can bet your bottom dollar you are extra loud when Foxy's fucking you in the Firefly house. You dont give a fuck if most of the family hears, they don't care themselves (Mama Firefly is probably just like 'Oh good for sweet Winnie~ ^^ ~', Baby rolls her eyes like 'Ugh, i'm trynna watch a fricken movie here!', Spaulding is at work, Tiny figures someone's having a tantrum upstairs which is pretty standard, RJ just leaves like 'fuck this i'd rather be outside anyway', and Grandpa... 😂😂 sorry but Grandpa probably cheers you on- )- you just want Otis to know how good Foxy is in every single aspect. Its a low blow, but hell if you care?? Otis is a bastard.

Foxy thinks your craziness is amusing and adorable, and he's so chuffed that the one you're crazy for is him.

You're also super affectionate with Foxy when Otis is around. I mean, you're normally affectionate with Foxy (How could you not be?? Look at him! Tell me you don't wanna give him kisses and hug him) because he's great, but it definitely hits different when Otis' (self imposed) lonely ass is around to see it. No one wants worship him, do they?? Nope.

Like, you're all over him like some kind of obsessed love-struck freak (And, again, who could blame you? look at him-). Running your hands up his sides or over his chest (Dipping under his shirts sometimes), your lips on is jaw or giving him a very deep very obscene tongue-kiss, sitting sideways his lap so you can still see him and have intimate whisper-little talks with him (And kicking Otis if you're close enough 😅😅), sucking slow and wet hickeys into his neck while he watches his old movies, etc.

Again- Foxy does not mind at all 😂😅😅 He loves it actually. He doesn't move to stop you at all. In fact, if he brings Otis around you (Which he loves to do on purpose, because he loves to see how protective and loving you get about him when you see Otis with him) he will apologise. Like 'Sorry, sweetheart... couldn't get a sitter on such short notice. Its not my fault y'cant schedule your booty calls better, sweet thing... he'll jack off in the bushes or something.'.

You are totally willing to brawl with Otis if you it comes to it!! If he keeps insulting Foxy, or you, or just reach your limit- you have lunged at him before and Foxy has had to catch you, throw you over his shoulder and walk off like 'nope you, crazy pants, are the best fuck i've had in a while; you're not gettin' yourself killed that easy on my watch'.

Otis... Otis is not much more disturbed or pissed by your attitudes towards him then he is by everyone else's annoying little Things that he hates. He's not bothered, basically (Cuz uh, being annoyed and cranky are his default settings), and that pisses you off more.

... but hey. At least Foxy feels good ^^

[fantasy-the-final-frontier]

I’m on my (third?) watch of Agents of Shield, currently on 2x08, The Things We Bury. And it just occurred to me how good the parallel stories are in this episode in particular, all centering around the title.

(This breakdown got a lot more in-depth than I was expecting, so I’m putting the rest under a cut)

Storyline 1: the backstory of Daniel Whitehall. Shortly after finding a person (Jiaying) who can survive contact with the Obelisk, Whitehall and his men are captured by the Allied forces (as seen in 2x01). After being interrogated by Peggy Carter, Whitehall is consigned to a Shield prison for life. But that is not his end - HYDRA members release him from prison decades later, where he can continue his research on the Obelisk, experiment on Jiaying, and work his way to the position he holds in HYDRA in the modern day.

Whitehall: We could learn so much together.

Peggy: Instead we’ll forget. Forget you, forget your work. When I leave no one else will come. No one to hear your stories, study your deadly artifacts. You’ll be buried.

Whitehall: I seriously doubt that. Nothing stays buried forever.

Storyline 2: Grant Ward kidnaps his older brother Christian to have an emotional confrontation about their abusive past. They go to the site of the well (from episode 1x08), where Grant forces Christian to unearth it. The entire time, the brothers accuse each other of gaslighting and manipulation, blaming the other for the events of that day. Once the well is revealed, Grant threatens Christian until his brother confesses to forcing Grant during the incident at the well. The storyline ends with a news story reporting the deaths of Christian and his parents.

Christian: The well. You still blame me for the well. We both know that it was you who nearly killed Thomas down there.

Grant: Do you sleep better telling yourself that?

Christian: You know, I don’t know what crazy lies that you have built up all these years, but the well doesn’t even exist anymore. It’s gone. Mom and Dad buried it.

Grant: (pause) Oh, no. They just covered it up.

Storyline 3: the search for the alien city. Taking inspiration from Fury, Coulson decides to one-up HYDRA by putting in place a series of dominoes that will gain him access to a satellite. This allows the team to locate the alien city,

Coulson: We may actually have a shot at finding the city.

Skye: Are you sure it’s something you wanna dig up?

Coulson: If we don’t, HYDRA will. We need to get there first.

I just love the juxtaposition between the three storylines! From figurative digging into Bakshi and archived Shield files in storyline 1, to literal digging in storyline 2, to the city in storyline 3 being underground, all are about the things that get buried (hence the title) but not destroyed. Usually “bury” implies a final ending, as in burying a body, but this episode shows that buried is not the same as forgotten.

Daniel Whitehall is able to gain a new life and new identity. The well is unearthed and the Ward brothers’ past is laid bare. The alien city, which was lost for thousands of years, is discovered. And to dig more into storyline 1, Whitehall’s background in 2x08 teases parts of Skye’s background - more past which was buried (redacted by Shield) that is now being revealed. Jiaying’s barely-living body is dumped in a ditch in lieu of a burial, and in 2B we learn she was nursed back to health. The buried live once more.

Season 2A is all about the past coming back in full force to influence the present, and this episode is chock-full of that theme. More specifically, parts of the past that were supposed to be hidden or forgotten, parts which are demanding themselves to be known again.

This right here is the Good Shit™️, aka my favorite part of this show, and I’m so fucking pumped!

[setagaya-division]

Mina's Thoughts on Kobe Division

Ren Nakashima

"The music artist known as 'Vox'. ...Would you believe me if I told you that I'm actually a fan of him. You have Yorii to thank for that. The two of them are in the same profession, so it's no surprise that they both know each other. He brought some of Vox's music home one night and kept playing it until five in the morning. Naturally, some of the songs sounded good, so I decided to listen to them. Now, I'm kind of a fan of his. Not saying I like all of his songs, but some of them are actually quite good."

"I actually had the pleasure of meeting Vox when Yorii introduced us. He seemed nice, but... for some reason, I could smell blood on him. And it wasn't his blood either. I wonder why..."

...

"Hah, it's no big secret that this guy is a killer. I mean, if you listen closely to some of his songs, they sound strangely possessive. Like he's talking about someone. ...Well, I don't know who he's talking about, and I don't care, but if he hurts Yorii or Elliot, he won't have to worry about his precious "darling" anymore! Cause he'll never see her again!"

Max Soukoku

"...Is it weird to say that I see a lot of myself in this young man? He's so quiet that you sometimes forget he exists. ...At least until you hear that he sent two or three guys to the hospital because they called themselves bullying him, but wound up learning the hard way to not judge someone based on appearances alone. You'd think after the first few times, people would get the hint, but stupidity can be infectious sometimes."

...

"Besides that, I get the same sense from 'Rocker Boy' that I do this kid. Both of them smell like blood. And this kid, even more so! But as long as I don't smell Elliot or Yorii's blood on him, he's safe. But the moment I do, we'll see just how fearsome he truly is!"

Kaiji Sano

"A lot of the girls at school are big fans of this guy. ...And some of the guys too. Me, I'll admit, he's attractive, but I don't know why people go nuts over him dressing up as the opposite sex. He's not the first to do that, but I guess there's something about how he dresses that attracts people. I don't know enough the fashion industry to make a guess, though."

...

"And just like his two buddies, this guy smells like blood too, though I only smelled two types of blood: his and one other's. A female's, I think. Still, that doesn't exactly fill me with fuckin' ease. He may not be a killer like his buddies, but this guy has spilled blood before. For his sake, those two blood types had better be the only ones I spell on him."

Lovesick

"These three men... they seemingly have nothing in common with each other. I have to wonder how exactly they met one another. ...Is it possible they all adopted each other like we did? If so, I wonder what the circumstances were that caused them to get to know each other?"

...

"These guys may not have anything in common, at first glance. But there is one thing they share: they're all murderers. Oh, I know I don't really have room to talk, but unlike me who has to kill to survive, these three kill simply for sport and enjoy it. Well like I said before, they can do whatever the hell they want. But if they come do anything to harm either of my brothers, I'll show them what true murder looks like."

[muu-kun]

Timeline of Mason Thompson’s Most Prominent Traumatic Events (Part 3/4)

Disclaimer: I am not the peacekeeper for what can or cannot be considered trauma. This is solely a document containing a list of what Muu has personally found to be traumatizing to him. And, yes, while nearly 90 percent of it is derived from instances between himself and other muses on tumblr, the original identities have been scraped and replaced with entirely new ones to save face. Any similarity to hereby existing muses is purely incidental. Be mindful of the numerous (but perhaps not limited to) triggers that appear in the upcoming text including: mentions of abuse, bullying, abandonment, neglect, and NUMEROUS discussions on sexual assault. I cannot express enough how frequent that appears in his history, so please proceed with caution. If you have any further questions, my IMs are always open.

Further Disclaimer: This one is not as minor in impact as the prior two were by comparison. Be aware that one contains instances of far more cruel and heinous acts by a longshot. I couldn't sugarcoat a bulk of them even if I tried. There are no silver linings to be had no matter how hard one might squint. I wish with the upmost sincerity that I could take these away from him, but I can't. All I can do is condense them here as a reference guide for those with muses he brings up the topic of something called, "The Big Box". These events are what lurk within it.

18-20: Headed to Hell in a Hand Basket

Losing everyone. His first partner, the one he attempted to build a strong connection with that followed shortly after, his two best friends, and his older brother. They all went forward to live their lives without the hinderance of him being present. Which while, yes, he understands their reasoning on that to some extent, their departure without so much as a glance back ever so often to check in on his state of being was something he held such self blame for that it locked him into a state of chronic rumination-- namely when he was attempting to fall asleep. His insomnia has maybe since improved, but the extent of the damage it caused is presently irreversible.

With everyone leaving back to back, he found himself unknowingly forming an attachment into a vampire much younger in age than the best friend he'd adored for two years straight. This one was his age. They'd exchanged platonic utterances of love being held for the other, and the other male had also declared his concern for the wellbeing of the innocent minded human. Looking back, he'd almost wondered if they had become his favorite person by simply being kind. Not that he could confirm with certainty that he would have fit the diagnosis criteria of Borderline Personality Disorder at that age. It just remains something he is curious of is all. Also a question in his mind is if maybe his increased desire to achieve additional closeness with the vampire was because he held (very one-sided) romantic feelings for him. Logically, he had known they lacked compatibility in that area as both were submissive leaning individuals. With all things considered, though, he was never a logically led person as is at eighteen as is anyways.

When the very vampire he was growing uncertain feelings towards showed him an illustration of two men with appearances mirroring their own kissing each other, and he mistakenly took that as an indication they should have kissed one another as well. He hadn't asked for permission. Or even asked at all what their opinion of kissing was as is. Never had he taken a millisecond to ponder if other people enjoyed the closeness to be had in one as much as he did. He had no idea that had been assaulted in a malicious manner by someone close to them in the past. All he knew was that they were angry and critical of him for his chaste press of his lips to theirs. That were immediately disinterested in him as a friend, and as a person. Scum. That is what they called him.

Know that at the indication he was inevitably going to be left behind an additional time by someone he wanted to love him, and that his own mistakes were solely responsible for the shift from loved to unloved to occur, Muu had not been kind. By his logic, if he was so terrible as they began to imply, he was going to at least put evidence of such right there to back it up. He grew mean. Resentful. Reactive. And what other way to really cement in place that he was as awful as he was implied by them to be? To press the exact buttons he knew existed early by pure mistake. Kissing them. Again. And again. Hell, he'd lost count. And boy did he learn to regret it.

When the kissing he was guilty of got him labeled a sexual predator. It takes being an adult looking back on this one for Muu to find it a gray area in retrospect. On one hand it isn't an incorrect statement as he knew he was purposefully retraumatizing something that had confided in him a personal truth. On the other, however, Muu would swear it had no underlying desire to be with them in any kind of lustful manner. At the time, he lacked the maturity and understanding that sexual assault didn't actually boil down to sex. It was power. So while this statement hurt him by really pressing on the existing wounds left over from not having his own trauma being ignored, who else is to really fault for his autonomy being utilized for giving that pain to someone else to carry as well?

When he'd been told that he was going to go Hell to spend an eternity alone while his friends were all going to get to play together in Heaven without him. Neither Muu or the person telling him it believed in those forms of afterlife to begin with, and yet the intention and fear going in and out from statement was acquired from the same energy. Both parties were well aware that Muu was significantly afraid of being left behind. For a lot of reasons, though, Muu really wish they had just left each other's lives after that conversation. A lot wouldn't have happened if they did.

When things between himself and his newly sworn vampire enemy, known by Muu in present times as A Bat, when from bad to worse. Words aimed at him continued to be more thought out attacks of his psyche by gunning for his most deeply rooted insecurities. Of those that came out, the most devastating to his system didn't even come from the Bat personally. Instead, it came from the Bat's best friend. She informed him he was unlovable. And together they would remind him of this suddenly undisputed fact about himself every chance they could. And later, so would many others.

Words didn't stay words for long. Eventually resentment was carried out in physical altercations. Strangers he didn't even know were arriving from the woodwork to fight for their Bat brethren how they deemed necessary. That included having his arms repetitively twisted in multiple spots by people far stronger than himself. Some went out of their way to truly showcase their strength by picking up the young adult and throwing him against whatever surface was available. Walls, the floor, playground equipment, etc. He had broken rips, numerous sprains to all of his limbs, and acquired a bullet wound scar from being shot at from a close distance. It was left known to him to say the least that he was more desirable dead than alive at that point.

When he attempted to confide in mutual friends of his and the Bat that people were hitting him, or being unkind to him in what words were still being used, they all just told him that they refused to aid him in anyway. That he had it coming, so therefore he needed to endure it. And that while they were not blatantly going to admit to picking sides, surely none of them would have picked his anyways. Having no one to stop it-- especially not himself as he didn't know how-- there was really no shock at the fact everything escalated even further than what had already transpired.

When it became what he assumed to be universal knowledge that not only would Muu allow anything to happen to himself, and that no one was going to intervene to aid him, could he have really faulted anyone from thinking, "Why physically assault him when we can do so sexually instead?". Not to mention the fact that as a response to a lack of safety for his body on that front, he became so detached from all sensibility that he ignored indications of it in other parts of his life as he could only become attached to the idea of a saving friendship. Lacking the ability to reach out to anyone, the know how to recognize grooming from those more educated in the long haul of hurting another human being, and desperate enough to go to any ends to be "good" as a means of stopping all the pain going his way, Muu would find himself so frequently assaulted in the two year span that a number can't even settle himself down enough to go through all the gray areas in between all the red flags to get a proper number. Only what can really be provided is the most prominent acts of violence that area listed below.

Warning: These are graphic depictions of rape. And reminder: none of these muses are my own. These were all things to occur on tumblr-- and, no, they were not brought up to me beforehand and gained my permission as a writer. These were non-consensual on all fronts and therefore were severely traumatizing for Muu, who had no idea what was coming. The only thing I've changed is names for the sake of the fact that many muns involved have sought out to apologize for their carelessness at the time. Nevertheless, the damage was done, and this is for Muu to have his story told.

Lennox, 16 at time of assault. He was sixteen to Muu's eighteen. You read that right. The teen brother to someone the older male began to establish an infatuation with, but never reciprocated his feelings as they had far too much to focus on than a relationship. Even so, it didn't stop Muu from visiting often in the hopes that they would take a liking to him once they were truly able to settle down from an extensive list of adult responsibilities to sit down and have a chat. He'd try his hand at helping as he could, but being that they thought of him as a little brother enough as is with his noticeable cognitive deficit, they often found what opportunities they could to get both boys to boys together. What they didn't know was once left on their own devices to hash their distain for one another out, Lennox frequently pantsed and molested the special needs adult male out in secluded areas of the family's home. Thinking he could take it as he held out for the eldest sibling to pay him mind, he kept what was going on a secret. Or at least until the eve of what was supposed to be a night over between the adults over at the house. He'd found himself wandering about while everyone else appeared asleep, as his insomnia forbid him most nights from reaching slumber until late, late into the night. Awake as well had been the teenager, who invited him into the room with a promise to teach him how to play some of the most popular videogames at the time. Wanting to be educated on what boys liked to do, as he had always wished to fit into a group of them growing up, he agreed. As it would turn out, Lennox had a far different game in mind that they were going to play. One that involved taking a thin, not quite phallic looking item found in his room, and forcing it inside of Muu with no preparation whatsoever. When it was over, he located a parent within the home to drive him home. Only in the car did he confess that the teen had hurt his privates, and that he was concerned about the bleeding caused by such physical trauma. The only response he had been given was to tell no one else what had happened before being dropped off at home to tend to his wounds on his own. This is the event responsible for Muu not wishing to show his backside to anyone even years later. He is aware there has to be scarring present from what occurred, and he is incredibly self conscious of that fact. No part of him wants anyone to notice. Even if maybe they couldn't do so in the first place. He'd rather be cautious than not.

Chun-hee, 19 at time of assault. Otherwise known as Cherry, a gender non-conforming employee of the streets. Notorious for mugging, yet they never claimed to being above anything else outside of that. For what reason he might never know, but Muu happened to catch their eye after the first time he'd walked unassuming into their territory as his best method from getting between work and home as someone that relied on the transit system to get around. At first, when they would cross paths, all that was wanted from him was whatever was inside his wallet. If he had nothing, the next to be demanded would be his clothing. When he grew tired of being compliant, and only wished for them to leave him alone in order for him to get on with his day, their aggression towards him only grew. Any respect for him they could have possibly found in their empty heart went out the window. Once, when Muu had refused to give up his wallet, and instead shoved it inside his own pants for what he anticipated to be a safe place for it, Cherry had simply went in after it to retrieve it. What organ they were in proximity to, and grazed against in the process, was completely irrelevant. Or at least seemed so until any refusal on the younger male's part was intended at being kept in check with threats of sexual violence. That if he didn't comply, they would "fuck" him. Eventually, if turned to when. The first instance of things taking a turn for the lewd and unlawful between them was Chewon forcibly held Muu down onto the ground before inserting their genitalia into his mouth without his consent. To keep him compliant then and thereafter, they would threaten him with a knife. Once they'd even gone as far as to hold it near his groin, causing him to urinate on himself in front of them. At the sight of their disgust at what he'd done on instinct, he utilized it thereafter to pee on himself immediately at the sight of the other until they eventually gave up to go after someone else in his place. It is because of the events associated with them that he often discusses "making like a deer". He'd learned that they too release their bowels to escape being eaten by predators. Even years later, he is still at the ready to empty his own if he thinks there is a high probability someone is going to rape him. Also note that Muu had told someone immediately after Chewon had forced him into giving them oral copulation. The person he reached out to had really only told him to not confide in them again unless he had something far worse to share, because plenty of people had it more severe than that. Everything had something worse to compare it to, so at that he opted to tell no one about anything. There was no one to disappoint by doing so.

Kenji, 34 at time of assault. He and Muu met after the younger man answered his online ad seeking out someone to be his pet. Muu had been familiarized by the concept by another older man in his life who claimed it was the process of someone teaching another man to be good. Hoping that becoming such would solve all his problems in life as being bad had caused them, he couldn't have been more enthusiastic to stumble on someone's shared proposition. In the beginning, nothing they'd done on a sexual level as anywhere close to involving penetration, so he hadn't really thought on it to escape a situation that got him attention, and didn't require him to settle on a intimate dynamic that made him uncomfortable. Eventually, however, the older man's true colors really started to come out in the form of going from kind towards him when he made what was perceived to be mistakes to punishing him crudely. Worse even was that he always made Muu pick his own punishment from two unpleasant options. And if he failed to endure the one, he faced further consequence in being made to handle the other. That included becoming aggressive towards them from trying to introduce electricity play into their lessons to the point he hit the older man in the face. In retaliation to spoiling their underlyingly intimate encounter, and for striking them, he was made to pick between seeing if he could withstand having four climaxes prevented, or endure quadruple that in harsh smacks against his posterior. At first he attempted the option involving denial since he hadn't experienced the sensation of it before to know what pain and discomfort to anticipate. When that grew too overstimulating, he cried out and had to face the reality of being rid of the clothing covering up his lower half without a single word before enduring the first of many painful and hard smacks to bare flesh. The scene would grotesquely be mirrored later down the road when the older man reached a boiling point of anger towards the young blond for something forgettable, they chased him out into the living room to pin him along the arm of the couch, stripped him of the clothing adorning his skin below the belt, and assaulted him.

The Grayest Area of Them All

Amais. Ageless. A demon of demons. This is the person that told him when he was sixteen that the reason he was getting in trouble for confiding in people about his second and third assaults involving Grim was because they were his fault. He is also the only one Muu knew was a rapist as they had bragged about it to him in the past that his immeasurable amount of crimes were still incapable of putting him behind bars because he was in everyone's pockets. That and the fact not even Hell could contain him as that was his origin of place anyways. Amais knew no bounds when it came to sex as he was a demon associated with it. He openly shared the fact that he had fornicated with men, women, and even children against their will hundreds of times with no end in sight, and yet the then twenty year old still kept in contact. Mainly because by then he really didn't feel like he had anyone else's support. As such, he admittedly shared a bit too much about his most modern day predicaments. Including the conversation of being made good through a pet based dynamic. Seemingly feeling sorry for the young adult at the tales of his misfortune, the demon suggested that they take his teachings instead. Amais warned, though, that those who lived in his home to acquire his lessons were at times expected to please him regardless of whether or not their own desires were there in the moment. He had also gone to indicate that he really wouldn't have thought to pick Muu for a nightly event anyways as he held no attraction to him in any kind of manner. It was actually Muu himself that pleaded to keep in mind as he did not want to feel any different, or less desirable than those around him. In response, the elder stated to the younger that he was expected to be at his chambers at an approximate time for the two to engage in sexual intimacy. And that regardless of if he cried, screamed, or kicked as best he could, Amais was not going to stop. Why the smaller blond anticipated in any way that he would have been different from all the others he'd said those words to is anyone's guess. In the end, he did go to their room fresh after a bath as additionally expected of him, got undressed, climbed into the other's bed, and then spent an indiscernible amount of time begging his way out of an assault that didn't end until the demon himself decided it was over.

It was immediately following the assault involving Amais that Muu went no contact with everyone and ran away to not be seen years later. He highly suspected that not only was no one going to believe him for a rape that had to have been his fault, it probably would have just acted as further encouragement for those being harmful to his body on behalf of the Bat to get friends and monsters they were associated with involved with what was being inflicted on him from all sides in life. He couldn't take it anymore, so he disappeared. And now that he is back and trying to speak on these events to people, do you know what he really wants out of it? To be held not as the eighteen to twenty year old that endured all this, but actually of the section of sixteen year old version of himself that split off after the first time they had been hurt with no where to go following it either. He'd been carrying it unsuspectingly through each patch of grass, sidewalk, piece of furniture, and bedroom he'd been hurt in thereafter as if any bit of familiarity would have assisted him to detecting the pain before he couldn't prevent it anymore. They've only had each other this whole time, so it would so freeing to his heart to get the opportunity to be coddled so lovingly that every bit of him knows he is someone's baby in the way he never got to be enough to finally give into the idea it doesn't have to be just him on his own anymore. And that it is safe for him to truly be himself by coming back into the out now, because it is safe for him to do so. You'll know you are there when the broken bits of him wither away to reveal the mirth that has always been lurking in desperation to be seen again. Only when you can describe him as nothing more fitting than a child that won't cease coming to you for affection, or give you a moment to breathe for a moment without joyfully telling you all about his otherwise mundane sounding day, will it be put to your attention that you are in the vicinity of Muu in his finest, happiest, and most genuine form.

[fantasycorrupted-a]

"I'm sorry. For causing you trouble. I wasn't sure where else to go..." She said quietly, looking at him from the corner of her eye. Watching as he wrapped the bandages around her arm. The bruises were dark on her pale skin. They were only a few hours old and they had already turned a dark, and violent navy blue. She was not sure what to tell him how she even got these. There were people after her. She was not sure who even sent them.

She was leaving the cafe, and then all of a sudden there was a few men on her. She didn't recognize any of them.

Everything was a blur. Her size and speed was the only thing she had going for her. There was no way she could go back home, since that was probably the first place that they were going to look in the first place. Looking back at Lyle she frowned, tucking her hair behind her ear as she shifted on the bed.

"Can you close that rubbing alcohol? I've been trying not to throw up since you opened it."

Fate was a funny thing, wasn’t it? A few years ago, Lyle would have never believed he could ever have anything close to a friend; now, he had tasted love for the first time – as well as true happiness, from Tim’s smile – and he wanted to grab this feeling with both hands and hold it close until his arms started aching. God, he had needed this. In the back of his mind, he had known that a world beyond the laboratory existed, a world beyond the pain and tears his days were filled with as he became a toy for his demon and was forced to fight the other demons – his stepbrothers – until they all fainted with exhaustion.

But it had been only once he had crossed paths with Timantha that he had realised they had finally taken back their freedom. It was theirs. Lyle could breathe easily now. His brother and his five stepbrothers could go back to the lives they had once had. To the happiness. To the peace. To the safety. To the annoying predictability of their every day. He knew it made no sense to experience the surge of relief and joy each morning when his alarm clock rang; people usually hated that noise. It meant leaving bed. Leaving warmth and rest. And yet... this was life. Now he could experience it with his every sense.

As his hands followed Tim’s request without thinking – thank goodness, he was finally done wrapping her in bandages – Lyle’s hands shook. He had to steady himself to be able to cork the bottle. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry... I...” He trusted her. (Why else would he be doing this for her?) And yet, the words came hard, stopping at his mouth like they were stubborn gum sticking to his teeth. “I’ve seen sights like these before... much worse ones... and... some were caused by me. Against my will.” He swallowed. His hand slithered into hers, caressing its back with a thumb.

“I’ll explain better someday... I promise. But for now... just know that this sight, seeing you like this... I felt so bad for not having found you earlier. And I’m so glad you’re safe now...” His voice shook, and he bit his lip. Though he was choking on his words and on tears of worry, he forced a smile, and his hand gave hers a gentle squeeze. “Get some rest, okay? I’ve got some work to finish in the other room, but I’m here. Just knock on the bed if you need me. I’ll come...”

@technobratx

[yhwhrulz]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional: October 6th

Tozer in the Morning Committing to Personal Revival

One consequence of our failure to see clearly the true nature of revival is that we wait for years for some supernatural manifestation that never comes, overlooking completely our own individual place in the desired awakening. Whatever God may do for a church must be done in the single unit, the one certain man or woman. Some things can happen only to the isolated, single person; they cannot be experienced en masse. Statistics show, for instance, that 100 babies are born in a certain city on a given day. Yet the birth of each baby is for that baby a unique experience, an isolated, personal thing. Fifty people die in a plane crash; while they die together they die separately, one at a time, each one undergoing the act of death in a loneliness of soul as utter as if he alone had died. Both birth and death are experienced by the individual in a loneness as complete as if only that one person had ever known them.

Three thousand persons were converted at Pentecost, but each one met his sin and his Savior alone. The spiritual birth, like the natural one, is for each one a unique, separate experience shared in by no one. And so with that uprush of resurgent life we call revival. It can come to the individual only. Though a visitation of divine life reaches seventy five persons at once (as among the Moravian Brethren at Dusseldorf), yet it comes to each one singly. There can exist no collective body of believers that can be revived apart from the units that compose the body.

Understood aright these are truths full of great encouragement and good hope. Nothing can hinder you or me from experiencing the revival we need. It is a matter for God and the solitary heart. Nothing can prevent the spiritual rejuvenation of the soul that insists upon having it. Though that solitary man must live and walk among persons religiously dead, he may experience the great transformation as certainly and as quickly as if he were in the most spiritual church in the world.

Tozer in the Evening Laboring in the Lord

Certain passages of Scripture, if carelessly read, might give the impression that God delegates some of His work to Christian leaders to do for Him as a manufacturer might sublet to others certain items in a contract; such, for instance, as First Corinthians 15:58, "Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain." In First Corinthians 16:10 Paul says plainly that Timothy "is carrying on the work of the Lord, just as I am," but we must never understand from this that these men did a work of God apart. Rather they were the obedient instruments in whom and through whom God wrought His own work.

Any misunderstanding about this is cleared up by the explanation of Paul in Colossians 1:29, "To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me"; and First Corinthians 15:10, "I worked harder than all of them--yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me."

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