#also the way people would used to just. leave their children around town like it's nbd

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ludos Imperiales III

Summary: Saving your mates may cost more than you bargain for, but how far are you willing to go to save them?

Content Warnings: Branding; Mentions of Slavery/Abuse; Vomiting

Pt 1 / Pt 2

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Fables had largely been forbidden in the Empire, starting in the early reign of my Great Grandfather Hybern II. Fables and fairytales had no use in the practicality of his Empire. Stories and fables gave people ideas, it made them hope and dream of better worlds than this one. The Empire could not thrive on the backs of dreamers. And so books burned in the streets, and the oral traditions of many people died in the following years. Schools taught with books written by Imperial Scholars, all edited and fact checked by the Emperor himself. The world became what he saw fit to shape it as. 

To him, the fairytale idea of mates was a weakness. He declared all mated pairs cursed by the Mother. A bond was a manifestation of a weak will. If you could not thrive on your own without needing another to carry you, then you were not fit to be in the Empire. He removed all mated pairs from service, both within the palace walls and in military service. Mated pairs were not allowed to own land within the Empire, Temples were not legally allowed to recognize or perform a marriage ceremony. They were shunned as lepers and regarded as subpar beings. The bond made them loyal to each other first and foremost, and that was an allegiance torn in his mind. He made sure everyone else saw it that way too.

Father would not have such an obvious weakness. In his earlier years, he��d scoured the Empire, searching every village he ravaged and town he conquered for signs of that supposed weakness. He’d felt a pull, to a small ocean village in Elfhaven, and that pull had led him to a healer’s cottage, tucked into the ocean cliffs. He’d stood on the threshold of her doorway, cursing the Mother, cursing whatever weak will he had managed to leave unchecked, and then, he’d tossed her into the sea. His father had thrown a city wide celebration in his honor. Finally, a son who could master himself and his weaknesses. He used to tell me that story at bedtime, when my Mother tucked me in. Love was for children. Mates were for lesser beings. Mother had never argued with him about it either, this was simply a fact in their marriage. Theirs was of convenience, a mutually beneficial contract, and I often wondered if that story was also a means to remind her that she too could be disposed of if a weakness revealed itself. 

But, I had been a lonely, and curious child and would often sit with the Nymphs that lived in the bubbling brooks and streams around the River House, and would ask them all the questions I was afraid to ask my Father. They whispered their own tales of mates between the bubbling rocks and rolling waves and I’d latched onto their ideas of a bond so strong it could bridge a soul together. Perhaps it was my loneliness, my need for affection I couldn’t easily find at home, but I clung to that little piece of what everyone else swore was fiction like my life depended on it. It became my lifeline. I’d pray to the Goddess every night for something like that; for someone who could love me beyond reason.

A dream that slips through my fingers as I step into that cell.

Cassian, chained against the wall with a gorsian collar around his throat, spits at my feet as I enter. I’ve seen hatred enough in my lifetime to understand the fire that blazes in those hazel eyes.

All the air in my lungs leaves in a rush, as if he’d thrown a fist directly into my stomach. He hates me. Hates me for what I’ve done to him; hates me for what I allowed to happen in that arena. Hel, judging by the way he sizes me up next to Father, he hates me purely because I look like him in the eyes.

My chest aches like it just might crack open and spill my heart out onto the floor.

For the slight, one of the guards slams the butt of his spear directly into Cassian’s gut, knocking him to the floor.

Despite the obvious malice, I have to physically lock my knees to keep myself from moving towards him; have to bite the inside of my cheek to not tell them to leave him alone. Maybe it’s not his fault he hates me. Maybe I deserve it.

“Charming as ever, Cassian,” Father says.

Cassian glares through the locks of sweat slicked hair falling over his forehead, “Fuck you!”

The butt of the spear slams into his temple and it takes every ounce of training not to let the dark, obsidian power trying to unfurl from my clenched fists turn the guard to ash. It would be so easy, a mere flick of the wrist and the only evidence that he’d ever lived a bit of dust left to mingle in the dirt coating the floor. I want to. Damn me, I want to splatter all of them across the dingy walls; hear the last, sharp intake of breath gurgle out of their chests for putting their hands on my mate. There’s a possessive, ugly thing that rises in my chest, threatening to choke the life out of me if I don’t move, act, on this base instinct. The bond rattles against my rib cage, a beast in its own right. It demands action, swift and immediate. It demands blood.

“You sure you can handle this beast, daughter?” Father sneers.

Cassian regards me with the disdain of someone who stepped in shit while wearing new boots. 

“I’m sure,” I say with more confidence than I feel, but I’m too much of a coward to look him in the eyes when I say it. My gaze flicks to the others instead, hoping against reason that I will not see the same hatred on their features. 

Azriel remains tucked in the corner, where he can use his body to shelter his broken wings. There isn’t the same malice in his own hazel eyes, but there is a cold indifference that cracks me open just the same. His earlier appraisal must have told him enough, because there is no lingering curiosity, only apathy. I am not asking him to throw himself into my arms; hell, I don’t even need him to smile, I just need something, any hint that my name alone hasn’t ruined this before it even starts! But there is nothing.

I try to keep my shoulders back, try to stop my body from curling in on itself. I want to curl up on the floor and wait until the old stones absorb me.

“I am curious,” Rhysand says, the s slurred like he bit his tongue when he hit the wall. “Why keep us alive?”

“Why let you be a martyr?” Father counters.

Rhysand studies me, violet eyes--glassy from what’s certainly a head injury, especially with the blood still flowing freely from an inch wide gash across his temple--rove over me slowly, starting at my hairline and working down. His head tilts quizzically when his gaze reaches my cheek. He shouldn’t be able to see anything in this light, but I find myself shifting my stance just enough to block the view all the same.

He frowns as his study goes lower, to the singe across my skirts, and the dirt stains from my stumble down the stairs. 

“I’d rather be dead than dragged around like a dog!” Cassian spits.

Rhysand won’t stop looking me over, like he’s calculating something. Not exactly the acknowledgment I want, but I will take the intrigue of his study over apathy and hatred as if it is. Curiosity is better than nothing. 

“You will honor your word, and send aid to my people?” He asks.

“If anyone is stupid enough to bet on you,” Father counters. “And if it makes it past the highwaymen and looters that have been waylaying my caravans. Your people might have more food if they weren’t attacking supply lines.”

My stomach twists. So Rhysand hadn’t been lying then, things have truly become that bad? Or have they always been that bad, and the sheltered nature of my upbringing had kept me from truly seeing it?

“Do you have supply lines that run through Illyria?” Rhys counters, not rising to the bait. “I can’t recall.”

“You will be branded,” Father says, jaw ticking as he doesn’t get the results he wants. “You will remain in chains and fight when called to fight. Any attempts at escape, and I will drag your people into the arena in droves. They can’t all be as adept at fighting wargs and Giants as you.”

Azriel’s gaze darkens at the threat.

Cassian’s lips pull back in a sneer, teeth flashing.

But Rhysand nods, gaze still on me, like he’s deciding something. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what.

“Keep your end of the bargain, Highness, and we will keep ours.” He says.

“Rhys!” Cassian seethes. 

“Quiet,” Rhysand returns. Briefly, his gaze leaves me to go to Azriel, and the other male nods, just barely. 

“How noble,” Father sneers.

“We will do what we must to save our people.”

Father waves the guard at the door in. Another follows, holding a glowing hot branding iron in his gloved hands.

“On your knees!” The doorman barks.

The contents of my stomach rise in my throat. I can’t let this happen! I can’t let them do this to them!

Rhysand kneels first, well technically, Cassian’s still down from the blow to the stomach; Azriel follows, grimacing against the pressure it puts on his wings.

I cannot beg for them. I will give myself away. I will doom all of us.

I can’t let this happen either. I can’t stand here uselessly!

“You’ll do it,” Father says to me and my panicked train of thought slams to a screeching halt. What?!

The guard holding the iron snorts out a chuckle. “Doubt she can hold the damn thing.”

Father turns to fully look at me and I do my best to keep my chin up. I have to keep the mask up; I cannot let him see. 

“You wanted this. You’ll do it.” He doesn’t think I have it in me; that much is obvious. He thinks me weak and spineless and meek, unable to do what is necessary. I have always known it, but I have never felt it so clearly as I do now.

And maybe he is right. How can I do this, even for the sake of protecting them? How can I raise a hand to my mates?

I swallow the lump in my throat. If I reach out to take that iron, my hands will shake and give me away. If I stand here and refuse, I give myself away. There is no winning; how did I think I could play a game like this? He wins; he always wins.

Not today, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. My body moves without my consent, as if I’m a puppet on a set of strings, being moved by an invisible hand. When I reach out for the iron, my hand doesn’t shake, even though it feels like every part of my body is trembling. The iron is heavy and warm in my hands, I have to use both to lift it, and though I should struggle to keep a grip on it, the invisible grip on me holds it steady.

Two guards move to grip Rhysand by the shoulders, pinning him in place, even though he offers his right arm willingly. His right arm that’s shredded from elbow to wrist from the wargs, blood still trickling onto the floor. The wound is deepest on the outside of his forearm, with enough space above the inside of his wrist to mark. This is cruel enough as is, but to add further to the injury…

One of the guards grabs the torch to reheat the rapidly cooling metal and my stomach is once again back in my throat. I can’t do this to him!

Don’t let him win, the voice whispers again.

My body is still not my own, still moving despite my best efforts to not. It feels like I’m watching myself from outside my body as the iron is pressed to his skin. I can’t even gag against the horrible smell of burning flesh, like someone locked the ability to react behind a wall of adamant. 

Rhysand, to his credit, doesn’t even wince, just draws a sharp breath in through his nose. He holds eye contact with my Father the whole time in another silent challenge and I cannot decide if he is the bravest or stupidest male I’ve ever met. 

The guards reheat the iron as my body moves away from him, and I’m sure they make some sort of snide comment, but it sounds like I’m hearing it from underwater as I take in what I’ve done to him. The blistering skin forms a perfect circle, with the Imperial emblem stamped in the center. It will be a crude scar and hard to hide. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. What have I done? 

The guards move to hold Azriel next, and if I was unsettled before, I’m downright ready to throw myself on a blade now. The apathy has left his eyes, replaced now with barely concealed panic. He pinches his lips together, trying not to make a sound as I approach, but his chest rises and falls rapidly, scarred hands clenching and unclenching in front of him. Shit those are burns on his hands and I’ve got something on fire held out to him.

“What’s the matter?” One of the guards leans down to hiss in his ear. “Scared of a little fire?”

“You motherfucker!” Cassian shouts, trying to stand to get to Azriel. He’s quickly knocked back to the floor with the butt of a spear again. 

“Do it!” Azriel hisses at me.

My body is still not my own as it moves to comply. The whole cell reeks of burnt flesh and it is by the sheer force of whatever will moves my limbs that I haven’t heaved up the contents of my stomach on the floor. What kind of mate am I?

Gods I am as bad as my Father! Cassian knows it too; when it’s finally his turn, the look he gives me is one I’ve seen thrown at the Emperor a thousand times. There is nothing but venom and hatred there and the bond in my chest feels raw and thin, like it has been scraped and worn down to a single, solitary thread. And yet my legs still move and my hands still hold the iron steady.

He won’t ever forgive me for this. Even if I can get them out of the Empire, even if I can save them from dying in the arena, it will never be enough. I’ve ruined my chance before it even had a chance to start.

Cassian growls when the brand touches his skin, but he doesn’t scream. None of them did. This displeases my Father, who frowns, even when it’s done. At least he is not proud of me; that would be the final nail in the coffin. 

The invisible hand still won’t let go of me, I feel it holding me upright, like it knows, given the chance I’ll crumple to the floor and never get up again. How could I have done this?

Father turns to the guard closest to the door, “Go ahead of her to the River House, make sure the place is secure. Post extra guards.”

The elven male bows with an exaggerated flourish and disappears. I suppose I should feel relieved that we are almost out of this godsdamned arena, but dread settles in my stomach. It is not like my Father to make this quick, not for a convicted rebel, and not for anything I’ve shown an interest in. Taking them home now feels too good to be true and I am not inclined to believe luck or mercy have ever been on my side. 

“The arena will have to be fixed before we can proceed with the Games,” Father muses. “I expect you to bring your new toys with you to entertain our guests at Amarantha’s celebration tomorrow.”

They’re throwing her a whole parade for her exports over Illyria, of course she’d want them there to see it. I doubt they’ll be the only Illyrians in attendance.

Cassian growls at that. I’m inclined to share the sentiment. 

“As you wish,” I say instead. Hopefully, if I can manage to not let the guilt clawing its way up my insides to consume me, I can remain upright long enough to find us all passage out of here by the morning. This will all be a terrible dream. Even if we have to part--the bond roars in my ears at the thought--at least I will have saved them. It might be the only thing I have to give them.

Father leaves first. I don’t let myself look at my mates as I follow. The guards untether them from the wall and push them out after me, keeping a guard in between us, just in case they attempt to attack while my back is turned. I wouldn’t blame them if they tried; I’d attack me too.

I can’t get the smell of their burnt flesh out of my nose. Every time I blink I can see their blistered skin behind my eyelids. I branded my mates. 

The way out of the tunnels beneath the arena is a blur, it doesn’t even register that we’re out until the sudden flash of harsh summer light sears my eyes. 

There are horses waiting, and a wagon. At least he’s not forcing them to walk behind my horse, as some of the lords and councilmen make their sponsored champions do. 

I don’t remember swinging into the saddle. I don’t remember urging the horse forward, or when my caravan of guards split off from my Father’s. We rode together until we didn’t. Starlight, my childhood horse, does all the directing, taking me home on instinct. The house I grew up in, the house I sequestered myself in with the curtains drawn for months and months looks foreign. The staff coming out to greet us swim in and out of my vision. I must answer their questions, because they move things around for our new guests, instructing the guards to take the wagon around to the back of the house, where there’s a guest wing turned into a cell for them. All this sounds like it happens under water. 

I hear the wagon roll that direction, and even though I feel eyes on my back, I don’t allow myself to turn. I cannot bear what I will see.

Someone helps me to my rooms, holding me by the elbow, telling me I look pale and sick. I feel like I’ve stepped outside my skin. The tether in my chest feels raw. What have I done?

The sizzle of the iron on skin echoes in my ears. I can’t stop seeing the smoke. Can’t stop thinking about the panic in Azriel’s eyes. I hurt my mates.

I hurt my mates.

Whatever invisible force had been holding me together in the cell gradually releases me. Inch by inch I become aware of my body again. And I make it to the toilet just in time to hurl the contents of my stomach up. It’s the wine first. Then breakfast. And the acidic burn of bile out my throat and nose. 

After Mother’s execution I hadn’t been able to stop crying for days. I’d laid in my bed with the covers over me, hiding in the dark where no one could hear the ugly sounds of my wrenching sobs. I’d thought I’d never weep that hard again. I was wrong. This is far worse.

When I no longer have the strength to hold myself up over the edge of the toilet, I curl into a ball on the floor, the tile cool and smooth against my flushed cheeks. The tears won’t stop flowing and the thing in my chest coils and tightens until it feels like a rock. What have I done?

Eventually the tears run out. The thin slit of a window in the wall bathes the room in varying shades of orange, then pink, then purple as time passes by, uncaring to my turmoil. I still can’t bring myself to get up, even as the heat of the day turns to a cool, evening chill. No amount of cold could move me now, a little suffering is what I deserve. 

Someone knocks on the bedroom door. I don’t remember closing it behind me.

I shut my eyes against the noise. All this crying has given me a headache, the echo of the door against the tile makes my head throb. Good. I deserve that too.

Another knock, more insistent this time.

Why should I answer it? I should just lay here until the earth swallows me. 

Another knock, followed by a muffled, “Highness?” Anise, my maid. Anise had come with my Mother, a gift from her father as she travelled here for the wedding. Mother had freed her from her servitude and Anise had asked to stay as part of the staff. She loved my Mother like she was her own; I have always thought of her like an Aunt.

“Don’t make me kick the door in!” A grumpy Aunt, granted, but her temper is always warranted. 

Shakily, I manage to maneuver myself onto my knees. She really will kick the door in and her joints are old and worn, she’ll likely break an ankle, or a hip, trying. It’s for her health that I manage to get up and get to the door, not because I feel well enough to get up.

She pushes her way in as soon as I turn the handle. “You look awful!”

I feel awful. “Thanks.”

“What the hell is all of this?” She demands, waving a hand towards the hallway. She’s half Dryad, her skin like tree bark, her graying hair made of vines and leaves. Though she is old and weathered, her emerald eyes are still bright and shining. “And why are you so distraught over it?”

She paces as she speaks, not letting me get a word in as she wrings her gnarled hands together. “What’s with all the guards? And those… winged males? They are strange and gruff and I don’t like the looks of them. Which reminds me, why the Hels are they asking for you?”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. “What do you mean, Anise?”

She stops her pacing to come take one of my hands, a gesture for a Dryad that is closer to a hug. Her other hand pushes some hair off my cheek to see the yellow tint of a blooming bruise. “Did they hurt you?”

I’m going to be sick again. “No, Anise, they didn’t.”

“You promise?”

“Trust me, if anyone did any damage, it was me.” And I’ll never forgive myself for it. 

She nods. “Ok, then, I will tell you.” Dryads, like Ents, are known for their long winded conversations. They never know when to get to the point. I am used to her extra long pauses and rambling tangents. 

I am not, however, prepared for her to say, “Well they were brought food and a medic, as the guards ordered, but they refused it.”

Why the hell would they do that?! Was this some kind of hunger strike? By the Mother did they think I was trying to poison them?

“They said they wouldn’t touch it until they’d spoken to you.”

I think the heat has gotten to me. Did she just say they asked to speak to me?

“It’s very strange,” she continues. “Males in that bad of shape usually fight for a chance to see a medic, but they said they wouldn’t let anyone touch them until they’d talked to you alone.”

Alone? They wanted to talk to me alone?

“Are you sure that’s what they said, Anise?”

“They were very adamant about needing to see you. Rude if you ask me. Who demands to see the head of a household like that? They’re trouble, I’m telling you now.”

“They didn’t say why?” I ask.

“No. They wouldn’t say it around the guards either. I don’t like this, Highness. It’s a bad omen if you ask me. The winds have been whispering all day. Bad, very bad things will come of this, mark my words.”

Bad things had already come, couldn’t she see that? They were not the issue; I was the issue. This whole damn Empire was the issue. We ruin everything we touch. They knew that better than anyone, so why ask for me? What did they want? It certainly can't be the bond.

I absently rub my knuckle against my breast bone. The bond feels like a bruise. No, they can’t be asking about the bond. If they know it’s there, they’re not tugging on it. There is no curiosity, only pain. I’ve ruined the chance for anything more, of that I am certain. 

This has to be something else, but how can I face them? There is only so much I can bear.

“You’ll make them wait, won’t you?” Anise continues. “You certainly should. It’s improper for a host to be asked for this late into the evening.”

They need medical attention. Their wounds have to heal. And they need to eat. They have to be starving, I doubt they were given a last meal before being thrown into the arena. Raw and damaged as it is, the bond still prompts me to move, even if I’d rather hide from it for the rest of my life.

“No,” I might as well rip the bandaid off. Maybe they need to tell me to my face that they hate me and never want to see me again. It can be arranged for us not to interact, even with me sponsoring them. 

If that is their wish, I will honor it. Whatever it is they need, I’ll find a way to make it happen. I owe them that. “I’ll go see them.”

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Taglist: @sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

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@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader, @blimpintime

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@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd

[lacybunie]

adieu, mon dieu!

“forgive me, father, for i have committed the biggest sin of all!”

pairing: afab!reader x re4r!leon

warnings: smut, virginity loss, blasphemy, dub-con, inexperienced/pure reader, religious reader, manipulation, cum eating, creampie, pussy slapping, pet names, breeding kink, slight choking, crying during sex, age gap mention (reader is 19 while leon is 27), fingering, porn with plot (?), bit of ooc leon

note: first time writing hence why it’s so long :3 also wrote this based on leon saying “i’ll give you a holy body” in re4r bc nobody freaks out over it like i do

“holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners.” the prayer is muscle memory. a smile adorns your face as you walk out of sunday mass with your family. oh how you cherish the time spent in god’s temple. you would not have it any other way. this small, quiet town in washington homes jesus freaks like yourself. where every summer, all children through teens spend their time at church camp. cross necklaces or rosaries are worn around the necks of bypassers and neighbors. you feel as though you are blessed with such a life.

so when leon appears in your life, you think you’re the most blessed girl alive. as the two of you go steady, he starts attending church with you and listens to the word of the lord with you in his black jeep. he listens to your prayers and readings of the bible. leon couldn’t be anymore perfect. “our heavenly father has blessed me with a man who loves me.” pink hues flush your cheeks as you smile giddishly during confession. “do not let temptation fool you.” the priest on the other side taunts, almost as if it’s a warning.

the people of the church disagree with the relationship you have with leon, the eight year gap between you two. more so, they dislike leon. they tell you he is not a man of the lord, he is a walking sin. they share their stories of glancing at him during mass and how he’s appearing to hold back laughter, how he doesn’t actually consume the blood and body of christ, how his eyes are filled with something evil. you choose to not believe them as they don’t know leon as you do. “he is nothing like that, sister olivia.” you defend during sunday lunch, biting your tongue. “you have found the devil in a lover.” sister olivia spews with disgust.

her words are a distraction during your date, echoing and bleeding into the grooves of your brain. “sweetheart?” leon calls as he catches your zoned out state. your eyes connect with his, you break yourself out of thought. “i’m sorry, i was just lost in thought.” you apologize, gleaming with a shy smile. the warmth of leon’s hand engulfs yours across the table, the cold silver of your ring turning hot. “i was asking if you would want to go back to my place after this?” leon repeats what you had muffled seconds ago.

“i’ll have to ask my dad first.” you embarrassingly respond as pinks heat your cheeks. there’s limited privacy with leon, daytime stays at his home with an hour max limit and once every two weeks only. your father implemented this as a way to keep a better peace of mind. “c���mon sweetheart, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” leon persuades with sugar on his tongue. the veil of orange from the candles illuminating the table is covering his face, you might just burst from the ethereal beauty he holds. he’s saying something color-coded yet it’s muffled as the tidal wave of his eyes are drowning you. “okay.” you mindlessly respond, leon faintly smirks.

the little skirt you wear is almost halfway off while you and leon makeout on his couch, something you shamelessly leave out during confessions. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders while he dangerously lingers his hands at your hips and thighs. you think you’re seeping through your panties as you feel a wet patch forming, making you feel bothered. “i feel weird.” you pant between a kiss, lungs aflame from the little oxygen you grant yourself. leon pulls away with furrowing eyebrows, “did i do something wrong?”

yet you’re struggling to understand what IS wrong. why do you feel so…wet down there? maybe you started your period but you realize it ended a week ago. leon’s eyes are burning into your skin, the gaze causing you to feel mortified. how can you tell him this? what if he thinks you’re weird? his girlfriend is wetting herself like a damn fool for no reason. “what is it?” that soft tone of his makes you feel even worse. embarrassment is starting to creep itself into the flesh of your body.

“i feel wet.” you say it so clearly and slowly as if you’re dumbing it down for yourself. you don’t know why you feel like this and you don’t know why it’s happening. leon smiles at the frustration you show, clearly not thinking of your situation weirdly. “that’s a good thing, doll.” he coos while holding your hands. head tilting and ditzy eyes searching for an answer, you are clueless by how this is a good thing. “what do you mean, leon?” “you’re turned on, that’s what i mean.” the blood pumping into your heart turns cold at the realization of what you have let yourself done. one of the deadliest sins of all: lust

how can you let yourself get carried away and almost give into something sacred? something you promised to your heavenly father that you will wait till marriage to do? you clutch the rosary wrapped around your neck, “please forgive me. i’m sorry, leon.” you think leon must be feeling the same way too, realizing you both almost gave into sin. oh how awful he must feel, to almost have betrayed the lord and gave into temptation. leon searches your face in hopes to find something you’re not sure of. “why are you apologizing?” he questions, hands no longer embracing your own.

“for getting you caught up in almost sinning.” “it’s not a bad thing to be turned on.” his voice is laced with something unfamiliar, a tone you’re not even aware of. “but it can lead to having sex and we’re not-” “there’s nothing bad about having sex either.” leon interrupts with annoyance. you can’t fathom how he thinks premature sex is not bad, he’s read the bible with you countless times. the purity ring wrapped around your finger symbolizes the commitment you vowed to and he’s reminded every time he holds your hand. “we can’t have sex, leon. you know that.”

“do you not love me?” leon is frowning at you, taking you aback with his words. “i love you, leon. of course i do.” you profusely confess as you get closer to him. the weight of your chest growing heavy while he shakes his head. “you’re supposed to have sex with the one you love right? then why don’t you? if you love me enough, then it’s not sin.” leon preaches with eyes glimmering with something indescribable. “we won’t have sex, we’ll be making love. that’s different. the lord doesn’t view it as sin.”

different strokes of blue are piercing into your soul, almost like his eyes are trapping you. your mind is foggy as you try to think of something to say. “i don’t think...” you trail off with unsure certainty, but what you want to actually say becomes lost in thought as leon’s cherry-bruised lips pull apart in a smile. you think he’s right, it’s something you probably skimmed over. cold hands caress your bare thighs, leon’s lips kiss the skin below your jaw. “you know i’m right, doll.” he mutters while his teeth lightly nip your skin, you grow hot. “i would never lie to such a pretty angel.”

“i’ll make you feel so good.” leon promises with his hands scrunching up your skirt. the sudden action causing your heart to burst within itself. your dry mouth defeats the words wanting to escape, to tell him to not touch there. you’re also battling the urge to let yourself do so as his hands grasp your inner thigh, sending a rush throughout your body. doe eyes noticing the way leon is looking at you as if you’re a sheep, tethered in his sharp teeth, bracing to become a meal.

two fingers rub you over your panties, the new feeling quickly has you inhale sharply. butterflies flutter around in your abdomen. leon hums as his fingers gather your essence that is leaking through the fabric. “there you are, pretty.” leon lays you further down on the couch. his lips kiss you again roughly and you grip at his bicep as his hands quickly discard your skirt. leon impatiently pulls away from your lips to look at the newly found view, lilac panties adorned with a baby blue ribbon. leon’s favorite color.

the wetness from earlier feels as if it’s completely soaking the fabric. you feel utterly exposed like this, so vulnerable in front of leon. “you’re so fucking sexy.” he sighs out once he finally removes the one thing keeping him away from your forbidden fruit. “please leon.” you’re unsure if you’re begging or pleading. the temperature of your body is uncomfortably hot and you’re sure it’s because your soul is already spiraling down to hell. you want to stop leon from inserting his finger into your sopping cunt, but of course you don’t.

“have you ever touched yourself, doll?” leon asks, while fingering you agonizingly slow. you crave for more, not exactly sure of what. you need more of him. you’re heaving at this point, staring into leon’s eyes as he watches you unfold before him, a flower blooming almost too late. “i’m not supposed to.” you choke out the answer while he begins to messily rub your clit. the smirk resting on leon’s lips is haunting you, why does he always look so desirable with that stupid smirk?

“says who? your god?” leon pushes a second finger into your sopping hole, an uncomfortable stretch soon followed by an indescribable pleasure. the erotic sounds of your cunt being touched for the first time reach your hot pink ears. leon curls his fingers against your spongey walls causing you to squirm. the imaginary coil in your lower stomach feels like it’s on the brink of snapping.

“yes.” you moan while he lightly slaps your cunt. “what kind of god deprives his children of a pleasure such as this? don’t you feel good, angel? i know your pussy sure does.” leon smiles at your reaction for his choice of words, you forget how blunt he tends to be. “d-don’t say that.” “your god can’t be all that great if he won’t even let me feel how your pussy squeezes around my fingers.” the blasphemy hits you like a gunshot only temporarily, the pleasure you’re receiving rids it right away.

you’re shaking your head but you don’t know if it’s from the frustration of leon speaking against the lord or if you’re about to reach sweet relief. “leon.” you hiccup, the pleasure becoming too much and your mind is turning into mush. a tight grip on leon’s bicep has him chuckling, looking down at you so pathetically. “you look so fucking stupid. go ahead and cum for me, pretty.” he grants while your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his digits.

back arching off the couch along with the most pornographic moan to ever come out of your chest, the coil snaps. waves of ecstasy crashes within your body, releasing out of your sopping hole. your thighs are shaking to snap close but leon doesn’t let it happen as he gathers your essence up with his fingers. “god, you’re just so fucking perfect.” leon grunts before sticking his own fingers in his mouth, the honey he has been craving falls onto his tongue. you feel yourself get dizzy at the sight.

leon reaches down to give you a messy kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue. “wanna fuck you.” he moans into your mouth, his jeans rub against your cunt and you’re sure your cum smeared onto the denim. you want to stop right here, you want to run straight to church and plead for your life in the confessional booth. however, when leon pulls away to strip off his pants and his fat, long cock hits his abdomen, you feel that indescribable want grow stronger.

your breathing becomes heavy as leon rubs the tip of his cock at your entrance. his cock looks too big for you, fearing he’ll split you open. the taste of bitter metallic hits your tongue and you realize you’re biting your bottom lip too hard. “i’m so lucky.” leon grunts, dragging his thumb across your bleeding lip. “get to be the first to fuck this virgin pussy.” he barely pushes the tip into your tight cunt when you start crying. the pain of slight tearing mixed with the eternal damnation you’re going to face is cutting at your skin. “please.” your vision is blurry through the tears when leon pushes his cock fully into you, you can hear him let out a deep groan.

the way leon’s cock feels inside of you makes you feel so full. the pain of being ripped open for the first time is soon subsided by a mind clouded with desire, yet you’re still crying. leon moves in and out slowly but roughly, hitting a spot within you just right. you moan wearily, salty tears trickling down into your agape mouth. when leon begins to thrust a bit more hard, you’re sobbing out loud moans. leon presses his hand against your throat, “so fucking loud.” he’s snapping his hips into you, his cock bruising the inside of your cunt so sweetly that you feel the coil about to snap again.

“need to shut that mouth of yours next time.” leon grunts, looking at you in a haze. he squeezes your throat as if to test the waters and you choke out a needy moan, your cunt almost suffocating his cock at the action. “such a nasty girl.” leon smirks while picking up the pace of the abuse on your cunt. baby pink nails are scratching at leon’s biceps. you slur out an apology, clearly not in the right headspace to realize that leon is toying with the rosary tangled in your neck. “oh my-” you cut yourself off when leon’s cock repeatedly hits against a spot so sweet, the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

“say it.” leon taunts. his hand reaches down to messily rub at your clit once more, your eyes flutter shut. you know what he wants and you don’t think you can push yourself further into damnation by saying the lord’s name in vain. “c’mon, doll. tell your god how my cock is making you feel.” leon tightly wraps his fingers around the dainty rosary, you’re pleading at him through your eyes, mouth too occupied by the moans you let out. “leon please.” you cry out, you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop the blasphemy or to make you cum.

leon soon loses himself in your cunt, grasping at your hips to drill his cock deeper in you. the stars in your eyes are getting brighter, you’re almost there. dirty blonde hair covers leon’s eyes, relieving yourself of the gaze he had on you. “gonna fucking breed you.” leon laps at your neck, biting at your soft skin as if it’s the bread he eats at church. “you want that? want me to fill you up?” you moan out a incoherent yes, too fucked out to understand what he’s even saying. leon captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues relentlessly clash against each other.

leon’s cock hits that sweet spot one final time before the coil within you finally snaps. “oh my god, leon!” you moan so loudly, throat becoming faintly sore. your body is shaking at the ecstasy that’s somehow stronger than before, nails clawing at leon’s back that you feel like you may draw blood. “there you go, angel.” leon’s words are drowned out by pure euphoria. you feel the warm essence escape out of your cunt but it’s soon mixed with another hot feeling, leon’s own cum. he desperately shoves his cock into you to rid himself of every last drop. you look down to where you two are connected, the lewd sight brings you back down to earth.

if anyone were to rip open your chest to view the way your heart is pounding, almost punching itself out, they’d think you murdered a man. the burden of betrayal is sitting heavy on your shoulders, all the prayers in the world couldn’t save you now. when you look at leon, who is taking in the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, the thought begins to become a crimson haze. a string of pearl beads clutched in leon’s fist catches your eye, you look up at him. a blue hue meet yours, the once bright shade now dark. leon lets out a daunting chuckle, “won’t be needing that anymore.”

sprawled out on his palm is a broken chain along with a few pearls and a tiny cross. leon ripped off your rosary.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 8 - Wire's Turn

Sabaody continued.

WC: 3.5k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

“Hurry the fuck up,” Wire growled, tugging on the chain leash that was attached to your metal collar. At least it wasn't explosive, small victories. You could only hope it would stay that way.

“I'm trying!” You pouted, practically jogging to keep up, “not all of us are eight feet tall!”

“You're not that much shorter than me,” Killer pointed out, “but I'm having no trouble.”

“I have a misleadingly long torso!” You whined, “I've only got little legs. Carry me if you're so bothered, I can't walk any faster, I'm basically running as it is.”

Wire grabbed you unceremoniously and threw you over his shoulder, making Killer snort a laugh as you squeaked in surprise. You crossed your arms against Wire's back with a pout, poking your tongue out at Killer walking behind as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I feel like a hunted deer,” you commented.

“Shut it or I'll drop you,” Wire replied flatly. You looked at the eight foot drop to the ground and quickly decided against that.

“Please don't,” you whispered.

You took some time to enjoy the view from all the way up there, finally taller than pretty much everyone around you. Killer's mask bobbed side to side, taking in the locals as well, while also no doubt staying on guard for potential trouble, considering where you were. For the “criminal” area of the archipelago, the town was pretty nice. Sure it was clear that most of the people here were more colourful than the usual Sabaody resident, and obviously on the rougher side. You saw a great deal of women, and the occasional man or child, wearing explosive collars, often being led by chains not dissimilar to your own.

The children were the hardest to look at, all clearly emaciated and abused. Your grand hope was that Luffy would become King of the Pirates and destroy the Red Line and all the disgusting pigs that lived in Mariejois on top, and put an end to this horrid human trade. If things went wrong and Kid decided to get rid of you, you desperately hoped Killer would take ownership of you. At least then you could expect the bare minimum care, though you still weren't sure if Killer would be the type to hit you. He was your favourite so you hoped not. Then again, Heat seemed like the type who couldn't hurt a fly, and yet you knew he burned people to death on a regular basis, a truly gruesome way to die. You tried not to think too hard about how many people Killer had murdered to get his epithet, or how many people had been impaled on the forks of the trident held only inches to your left.

Sabaody was certainly an amusing place. It was just as pretty in person as it had been in the anime, with the ground and bubble based structures all shimmering with a pretty iridescence, making everything sparkle. Bubbles floated from the ground and drew your attention to the giant trees surrounding you that formed the island, with their pale blue-grey striped trunks and vibrantly green leaves. Rays of light broke through between the trees, giving the whole archipelago an almost ethereal look, Killer's hair often glowing like he had a halo as he passed through the rays. You wondered if he knew how attractive he looked like that, with his cool fringed jeans and button-down shirt, opened to the chest to show off his muscles. It was a real shame he'd get rid of these clothes at some point in the next few years. Now there's a thought, I mean you'd confirmed it now that you'd seen him naked, but before you came here - when this world was still just fiction - what proof did you have that his arm hadn't always been scarred? It'd never even occurred to you now that he wore long sleeves, he could have been hiding those scars all along. Now that you were here though you knew that whatever caused that injury was still to happen. There was the comment Kid had made in Udon about one of Big Mom's pirates hurting one of his friends, maybe the burns would come from Charlotte Oven and his heating ability.

“Where are we going anyway?” You asked curiously. The commanders had already found an inn for the night and dropped off their stuff, as well as heading to a few different weapons stores to stock up, and cashing in some looted treasure for berri. Most supplies for the ship were taken care of by the lower ranked crewmates, which meant this was likely a personal trip.

“None of your business,” Wire huffed.

“Wire's just embarrassed cos his cocks too big for regular condoms,” Killer chuffed, “we're going out tonight, gotta be prepared.”

“Wait, so we're going to an adult store?” You perked up, “fun!”

“Don't get excited, we're not wasting any berri on you,” Killer spat back, making you pout. Still, you were curious to see what sort of things were available in this world. Sabaody was a hub city, you had no doubt it would have a wide range of the things available in this world, especially in this shadier area. You wondered what sort of toys were popular here, and what sort of technology they had. Did One Piece have vibrators? Suction toys? Remote controlled toys? Did they utilise den-dens? Now there was an intriguing prospect. Was it morally grey to use a snail for that?

“How big can it possibly be anyway?” You pondered aloud, “I thought those XL condoms were a marketing scam, I mean have you seen how big regular ones can blow up?”

“They break easier if they're too small,” Wire replied frankly, “I ain't risking that with random whores.”

“If you're so desperate for a lay why haven't you just fucked me?” You asked him, “My legs are wide open baby.” Wire was the only commander who hadn't taken advantage of your presence on the ship, in fact he'd barely interacted with you at all outside of Kid ordering him to jizz on you.

“You couldn't handle me,” Wire said smugly.

“What, I can take Kid's soda can cock but not you?” You asked.

“I'm bigger,” Wire replied with a cocky tint to his voice, “did you not see?”

“She was a little preoccupied,” Killer smirked.

“Someone was gagging me with his cock,” you frowned.

“And you loved every second of it, didn't you?” Killer teased, and you poked your tongue out at him again.

“Maybe if you're a good girl today I'll let you try,” Wire promised, “but don't come crying to me if you get hurt. I warned you.”

“Bet,” you smirked as Wire put you back down, “I'm not some inexperienced little virgin. I can take it.”

“We'll see,” Wire mumbled, coming to an open door that led to a stairwell, apparently the store was upstairs. There was only minimal signage outside, but once in the stairwell it was obvious what sort of store you were ascending to, the walls plastered with various posters of sexy, barely dressed - sometimes entirely nude - models advertising various products. There was even a sign that read ‘pets welcome’ with a stick figure pictogram of a human with a collar and leash. Ironic. The shop attendants would probably think Wire was your dom, not that you were opposed to that.

The shop held all the usual things you would expect; dildos, lingerie, anal play toys, lubricant, porn, basic BDSM gear. But there were things that you definitely didn't expect as well. For one, less vanilla dildos like the style you'd used on Killer seemed to be common, as well as many other monster themed dildos that you would more expect to have to buy online in your own world. There were all sorts of them, some you recognised that looked like Heat's, some even in pairs like his, others that looked like horse or cow, advertised as minotaur themed. You wondered if this was an effect of not having the internet here, whether it was easier in that case to just sell more exotic items in store, or if it was a result of being in a particularly shady area. There was a whole display of what you recognised to be dials, with a big cardboard cut out of some beautiful woman with purple hair in space buns, a strange visor, and barely any other clothing, advertising that these dials stored vibrations.

Wire selected his condoms fairly quickly but continued to peruse the store, so you followed him around, not that you had much choice as he tugged at your leash whenever you paused for too long. The store worker and other customers didn't even blink an eye at him leading you around, or your bound wrists. Killer was already off looking at the porn when Wire made his way to that section, and you were curious to see what sort of kinks were popular here. Once again you were suprised by the amount of monsterfucker targeted items, with magazines that featured all sorts of creatures on the front, often entangled with humans. It was strange how very photo realistic they were, were they just very good at costumes and special effects makeup in this world? You didn't think they had CGI here, because surely that would require computers. Maybe they were devil fruit users? Minks?

You picked up a magazine that intrigued you, the cover featuring a human woman not dissimilar looking to yourself, with a large werewolf and minotaur either side of her. You flicked through the pages looking at the various poses they put her in, quite impressed at the size of their cocks and how realistic they looked, surely they couldn't be dildos? They must be devil fruit users. The centrefold was an extra long page that could be flipped down, and you gasped as it revealed a almost to life scale image of the minotaur's massive cock.

“Oi, no free reads,” the shop attendant yelled from the counter, “either buy it or put it back.”

Killer and Wire both took note of the magazine you were holding and exchanged a look. “She'll buy it,” they both said in unison, making you extremely confused.

“What… but…” you stuttered as Wire took the mag from you, “I thought you weren't spending money on me?”

“We're making an exception,” Killer said quickly.

“Oh… okay,” you replied, still very confused.

The boys paid for their things and dragged you back out of the store, Wire putting you back over his shoulder to walk faster. “You liked that mag then?” Wire asked. Weird thing to ask when he'd already bought it for you.

“If you're asking if I'm a monsterfucker, or interested in fucking werewolves and minotaurs,” you replied, “my answer would be a resounding yes. You should see some of the dildos I have back home.”

“Interesting,” Wire hummed. Perhaps you could take him after all, if you were used to that sort of size. The thought of burying himself in you made his cock twitch, finding someone who could take him was a rarity, especially human. That's why he usually turned to professionals who knew their limits, no fucking around only to be disappointed when they tap out. It was unfair really that he hadn't gotten a chance to destroy your cunt, and with the clock ticking on your story being proven true or false, he might not have much time left to try you out before inevitably sold you off. Being from another world was a insane excuse for Wire, he didn't have a single inclination that you were telling the truth, but that didn't mean he wouldn't fuck you while he could. Making a snap decision he carried you to a nearby alleyway, still in broad daylight and in full sight of those walking past but he didn't give a shit. This was normal for this zone anyway, there were no kids in this area and besides, he'd seen at least three other couples going at it on the way here.

Killer followed you both into the alley and stood knowingly on watch towards the end, knowing full well what Wire wanted as the tall man put you back on your feet and rested his trident against the building. “Wire?” You asked hesitantly as he spun you to face the wall, “Oh,” you squeaked as he pushed his growing erection against your ass, pulling your hips away from the wall so he could unfasten your shorts. “Right here?” You questioned nervously, looking at all the people passing by at the end of the alleyway as he worked your shorts and panties down till they pooled at your ankles.

“Right here,” Wire confirmed, “you said you could take it, right? Don't come bitching to me if I hurt you.”

“You won't,” you replied confidently, the allure of being fucked in such a public area already making you wet. Wire grinned coyly as he pushed his fingers between your legs and felt your arousal.

“Dirty whore,” he purred, “so fucking wet already, I bet you'd let me fuck you in the middle of the street if I wanted.”

He wasn't wrong, but you didn't have time to respond before you were biting back a moan as his long fingers entered you, going straight to two of them. Wire knew exactly what he was doing, zeroing in on your g-spot while his other hand reached around your front to play with your clit as he worked at stretching you. He found it surprisingly easy to work you open to a third finger, your slick coating his fingers as your pussy tried to suck them in. His fingers were so long he may as well been fucking you with a dildo, and with the added simulation on your sensitive bud and the risk of being out in public, barely hidden in the alleyway by a watchdog Killer, it didn't take long for your pussy to clench around Wire's fingers. Your knees shook as you came, clawing at the brick wall of the building you were pinned against with a choked moan.

“Good whore,” Wire hummed, removing his fingers from your cunt and wiping them on your shirt, “now get on your knees bitch, this dick isn't gonna suck itself.”

Wire let go of your leash but as it landed he stood on it purposefully, pinning it beneath his boot and forcing you downwards by your collar. Your panties were still around your ankles as you knelt, and your mouth watered as Wire unfastened his tented shorts, pulling his impressive cock free.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as you set your eyes on it. He wasn't fucking around, he was big. There was no fucking way you could take all of him in your mouth, and you had doubts that he'd be able to fit all of it inside you either.

“Change your mind already?” Wire chuffed.

You pouted at him out of feigned hurt before eagerly bringing your bound hands up to grasp him, unable to reach a single hand around his shaft. You stacked them one above the other to cover as much surface as possible while your tongue came out to lick the head of his cock, running your muscle over the smooth skin and up the underside of his shaft, letting the tip of your tongue slide along the slit. You did what you could to try and fit him, barely taking a quarter of him in your mouth before you were gagging, the corners of your mouth stinging from the stretch. Wire took your hair and wound it around his wrist to hold your head, making shallow thrusts into your warm mouth that made your eyes water as he pushed even deeper.

“There's a good whore,” he praised, “gag on it sweetheart, let me see those pretty tears.”

You took as much as you could into your throat, unable to take more than half of him even as your throat bulged and you struggled to control your gag reflex. There was no hope of breathing with him in your throat, his cock so thick that you felt like you were truly choking. He was clearly used to this though, giving you plenty of opportunity to catch your breath while drool ran down your neck.

“That'll do,” he said flatly, like he was bored, “stand up and take your shorts and panties the rest of the way off.”

You obediently did as he asked, noticing as you stood how people walking past would occasionally stop and try to watch, quickly deterred by a quick threatening whizz of Killer's punishers to encourage them to move along. You slipped your shorts and panties past your shoes and Wire picked you up like you weighed nothing, wrapping your legs around his hips and holding you far off the ground with your back pinned to the alley wall. His heavy cock was pinned between your stomachs as he rut the base of it against your mound. You whined in need, trying to roll your hips to rub your clit against him.

“Last chance,” Wire warned, “it's not too late to admit defeat “

“Give it to me,” you begged, “please Wire, fuck me, I want your massive cock stretching me open.”

“Alright then,” Wire smirked, pleased with your begging, and lifting you higher to line his tip up with your slick entrance, “don't say I didn't warn you.”

He watched smugly as he sank you down on his cock and your face contorted as you bit back the urge to scream. The stretch was almost too much, but it wasn't the first time you'd experienced such a large intrusion, having dildos back home that were about his size. Soon the pain melted to pleasure, but as you had guessed, he was unable to sheath himself entirely before you were gripping his shoulder painfully tight, warning him that you'd hit your limit as his tip bullied against your cervix.

“Fuck, look at you,” Wire praised, leaning back a little so he could admire the way your abdomen bulged. No human could take all of him, but he was thoroughly impressed with how much you had managed to take. “What a good girl, I'm gonna enjoy ruining this cunt.”

Not wanting to waste his time, he started a brutal pace, your overstuffed cunt making obscene sounds as Wire made quiet grunts and used you. You looped your bound wrists over his head and clawed at his back, burying your face in his cloaked shoulder to muffle your moans as your body was bounced up and down. You would no doubt have scratches all over your ass after this from the brick wall, overly thankful that he'd at least let you keep your shirt on to protect your back from the rough surface. Wire's hands holding you by your ass at least protected you a little. With his body so close to yours there was a slight grind against your clit every time he thrust up into you, raising and lowering you in time with his movements to get as deep as he could, showing off his incredible strength and control as he continuously avoided smashing into your cervix. The way he stretched and filled you meant every sensitive spot inside you was being rubbed against, your entrance stretched to its limit around him. With all that stimulation it didn't take long for him to have you close to your peak again, crying into his shoulder at the overwhelming pleasure as he used you like a ragdoll.

“Mmmph,” you mumbled into his shoulder, leaving a wet patch on his cloak from your combined tears and drool, “cu-cumming!”

There was a pattering of fluid hitting the concrete pathway below you as you gushed on Wire's cock, and you let out a stuttered whine that caught the attention of a few passersby that Killer had to clear away. “Good girl, mouse,” Wire praised, not letting up for a moment, still chasing his own high, “gonna cum soon too.”

Wire pulled out and put you back on your feet, pulling your arms over his head to unhook you but holding you under an armpit to keep you upright, unbelievably shakey on your legs from the hard orgasm. He pulled up your panties up most of the way with his other hand before jerking himself off, cumming with a grunt into the gusset of your underwear. The hot white fluid was thick against the fabric and you whined as he pulled your panties the rest of the way up, making the fabric stick to your cunt. He pulled up your shorts as well, fastening them before throwing you back over his shoulder. He spanked your ass as he made his way out of the alley, but you were too tired to respond, now truly looking like a hunted deer as you went slack over his shoulder.

“We're done here,” Wire stated as he passed Killer. The shorter man huffed a short silent laugh and followed on behind, not at all surprised to see you had already fallen asleep on Wire's shoulder.

[Next Chapter]

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[starryevermore]

you said you were gonna come find me ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: part 2 of the cardan fic?? - anon

summary: and you didn't wanna hang around. she said it was just goodbye for now. he said he was gonna grow up, then he would come find you.

word count: 1,728

warnings?: dual povs, a little angst with a happy ending, not proofread

PART ONE | PART THREE

The local children were convinced you were a witch. Part of you wanted to tell them that you were worse than a witch—that you could turn them into animal of your choosing, that you could make them do things and think they liked it, that you could ruin their lives by virtue of existing. Perhaps that was the heartache talking, so you instead shouted “boo!” when you caught them staring for too long. You supposed, though, you fed into the rumors of your being a witch. You came into this town out of nowhere, lived far away from the rest of its people, and only interacted with them when you went into town for food or a new library book. No one knew who you were or where you came from. At first, you reveled in the solace.

Now, you were only painfully are of how lonely you were.  

When you left Faerie, you went as far as you could from your former home. Traveled up to the mountains, found an abandoned cabin you could hole up in. There were few faeries in this area, mostly solitary fae that you would encounter while on walks in the woods, which had been the draw. Months later, you found yourself wishing you had set yourself up in one of the communities of fae who lived in the mortal lands. Would you be admitting defeat to leave the cabin now and join them? 

It wasn’t all horrible in your little cabin. Being away from court and all of its expectations was nice. You didn’t have to worry about carefully mincing your words so as not to offend anyone. You weren’t dragged into dances you would rather avoid. And you certainly did have to let your heart break over and over again as Jude at Cardan’s side. No, instead, you could read and write poetry and tend to the little garden you had started. You could find your happiness, even if it was without the one person you truly wanted by your side. 

You wondered how Cardan was doing. Had he even noticed you were gone? Did he care? He had seemed to miss seeing you when you danced with him on your last night in Faerie. But he had also not made any prior efforts to seek you out. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could manipulate. They could twist the truth to serve their interests. Few were better at doing so than Cardan. 

“When I learned you left Faerie, this was not the sort of place I expected you to be.”

You stiffened as you rounded the corner. The basket you’d been using to carry the herbs you foraged nearly fell from your grip. You squared your shoulders, looked down your nose at the woman seated at your dining room table. “I did not come here under the expectation to be found.”

Jude considered the room. The dirty dishes in the sink, the wilted flowers in the center of the table, the open storybook at the chair askew in front of her. “So it seems. It was not easy to find you.”

“You should have taken that as a sign to leave me be,” you said. You crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. Jude’s chair scratched against the floor as she followed you. You ignored her as you began to unload the herbs from your basket. “I left Faerie for a reason.”

Though you were avoiding looking at her, you knew Jude’s eyes did not leave you. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought Jude was fae herself. The predatory glint in her eyes, the way her fingers itched to grab at her sword. She was not still like fae, nor was she unnaturally beautiful like fae, but she carried herself in such a way that you could be convinced otherwise. By human standards, she would have been the most beautiful of all. It was easy to understand why Cardan would choose her. Gorgeous but lethal—the exact sort of woman he would pursue. First Nicasia, now Jude. It was just as easy to see that you did not fit into the picture. 

“You ran in the middle of the night,” Jude said. You looked over your shoulder. Her brows were pinched together as she scrutinized you. 

“Have you come here to chastise me for leaving without a goodbye?”

She shook her head. “I have come because you were invited to breakfast.”

It was hard not to laugh. Was that why she came all the way to mountains to find you? Because you didn’t come to breakfast? It was so ridiculous. Of all the reasons to seek you out, it was the silliest of them all. Your heart ached all the same, though. No one came because you were a friend. No one came because you were missed. Would Cardan have even known you were gone if he hadn’t extended the invitation the very evening you fled? 

“If I have offended the King, then I extend my apologies.”

Jude lifted her chin. “Tell him yourself.”

Your jaw clenched and unclenched. No. You would not go to him. You would not drag yourself back to that palace and let yourself be reminded why you had to go. You refused to break your heart all over again. “I have no desire to return to Faerie.”

“You don’t have to.”

Cardan stood in your bedroom. It was different than your one in Faerie. The one there had been full of extravagant things—the finest things he could gift you. It was full of gold and pearl and opal, glittering as if it all needed to be housed in a vault. But this bedroom, it had been stitched together out of nothing. Threadbare blankets, smooshed pillows, books that looked like they would fall apart with one wrong look. Cardan listened to your conversation as your voice floated down the hall. Would you really choose all of this over being with him? Was he truly so terrible?

The floor creaked under his feet as he stepped out and walked down the hall. Cardan could only see the back of your head, but you still looked just as beautiful as he remembered. His fingers twitched at his side as he fought the urge to run up behind you, take you in his arms, and whisk you away to Faerie. When had you taken so much control over him? When had he given it to you so willingly? When had you decided you didn’t want it anymore? 

“I believe I am owed an apology?”

You turned slowly on your heel. Your eyes narrowed, but Cardan did not miss the flash of surprise. Your tongue swiped over your teeth. Would it be wrong to take that tongue in his mouth? Did it matter if it was? “I apologize.”

“My, that was heartfelt.”

Your eyes fell to the tail that swished around Cardan’s legs. It was still unfamiliar for him to have it out, still hard to control it from revealing his base emotions. He tried to will it to stop, but it continued to wave around as his excitement of seeing you bubbled in his chest. “Would you prefer I fall to my knees and weep for your forgiveness? Kiss your feet until you are pleased?”

“Oh, there are few things that would please me more than you on your knees for me, but I would prefer to not have an audience for that.”

Your gaze flitted from Cardan to Jude, who was inspecting your collection of kitchen knives. Were you debating sending her away? He would enjoy that. He would like to get on his own knees and remind you why he cared for you so. He misliked the distance you were putting between him. Maybe if he begged prettily enough, you would forgive him for whatever cruel thing he did that sent you running. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t appreciate learning that you fled in the middle of the night after inviting you to breakfast. Is my company so awful that you would rather leave your home than spend a moment with me?”

A scoff escaped your lips. “I didn’t expect you to care.”

Cardan stared. Didn’t care…? He was so sure he had been clear with his intentions. He sent you gifts—he sent you a ring! The ring…Cardan reached over to his littlest finger and slipped it off. Ignoring your noise of protest, he closed the distance, grabbed your hand, and slipped the ring back on the finger it belonged. His heart slowed to a normal beat.

“Why would I give you this ring if I didn’t care?”

You stared at the ring. “You have gifted me many things.”

Jude stepped toward you. Your head snapped over to look at her, as if you had forgotten she was there. She tapped on the glittering gem on the ring’s center. “Allow me—Cardan is not good at professions of love, it seems. I told him of how humans would gift a ring as a promise of love. He wished to do that for you. Usually, there are confessions of how one wants to stay with their partner for all of their lives, but it seems he forgot that part.”

Cardan’s face burned as you looked back to him. “Is that true?” you asked. 

“Do I need to get on my knees for you to believe it?” He ignored Jude’s remark that that, too, was part of the human tradition.

You straightened your spine. “I will not be a lover to the king.”

Of course you wouldn’t be. You deserved more than that. Cardan was willing to offer you more than that. All you had to do was give him the word. Without a thought, Cardan sank to his knees, captured your hands in his. “Then be my Queen.”

Your breath hitched. 

“Come back to Faerie and rule by my side. Allow me to love you as I have tried for all these years. I missed you.” He lifted one of your hands to lips, then the other. “I begged Jude to help me find you and bring you home. I begged her to help me come here. Please, don’t let it all be for not.”

All you could manage was a single nod, and that was enough. 

PART THREE

[moljh]

Can't Fix Him

Eddie Munson x Reader (fem)

Inspired by the prompt: 'I can't fix him but I can fuck him'

Fluff, smut, etc

The music was loud. You could feel the vibrations of the base coursing through your body before you had even entered the house. Tina's annual Halloween party was known for being the biggest and best thing in town on this night. She was lucky that her uncle worked in the mayor's office and had connections within the police department, otherwise you were sure the party would've been shut down from noise complaints. It was also a good thing that her lavish house was situated at the end of a sprawling drive, so as to keep the drunk teenagers away from the rest of the roaming children in the streets.

Coming to the front door, your friends didn't bother knocking on the door as it would have been pointless. Walking inside you were immediately hit with the abrasive smell of weed and alcohol in the air. You weren't shocked by the presence of either, but you were surprised at how despite the open back doors how strong the smell remained.

The four of you had your way over to the punch, where you each filled your cup and took a swig of the mystery liquid. A familiar burning flowed down your throat and warmth filled your stomach. It was just what you wanted on a cool night as this and especially after a brutal week at school.

"I'm going to see if I can find Simon" one of your friends declared, venturing off into the crowd to find the boy she had been seeing but refused to say it was officially considered dating

That left the three of you and soon the other two headed off to the bathroom together leaving you on your lonesome. You didn't mind it though, gave you a moment to survey the crowd and gather who was there. In the centre of it all were couples pressed against each other dancing along to the music, while their bodies became sweatier and sweatier.

Having the urge for a cigarette, you decided to do the right thing by Tina and headed out back for a smoke. Winding your way through the people filling the house, you managed to find a chair near the back of the house that wasn't too crowded. You could hear the chanting in the distance and someone was obviously winning some sort of drinking game and you made a mental note to head over that way afterwards to see what all the fuss was about.

Sitting down you began rummaging in your pocket for you pack of smokes and lighter.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath as you realised you had left your lighter in your bag at home

You sat there for a moment, disgruntled in the situation as the unlit cigarette hung from your lips sadly.

"Need some help there?" a voice behind you asked and you spun around to face who had spoken

From the shrouded darkness a few feet in front of you they stepped out like some sort of supervillain and into the light. They had something else between their lips but you could tell from the smell that it wasn't tobacco.

"What's Eddie Munson doing at Tina's party?" you asked smugly He chuckled at your question "How else are those basketball idiots meant to get high?" he retorted "Touché" you said, "can I get that light then?" you asked, gesturing to the still unlit cigarette "What do I get if I do?" Eddie sarcastically questioned back "You get to say for the first time that you made a girls night" you shot back

Leaning forward, he slowly extended his arm and used his lighter to light your cigarette. It was in that moment, as Eddie 'The Freak' Munson was so close to you, with only the dim light from the distance and his lighter that you noticed how handsome he actually was. Hidden underneath the bravado and mane of hair, was an attractive face.

"Definitely not the first time a girl has told me that" he cockily remarked, pulling away

The two of you remained there, content in the silence as he worked his way through the joint and you the cigarette.

"So I know why you came in the first place, but why have you stayed then?" you asked him, though he seemed confused by your question "I mean, I doubt anyone here is exactly welcoming to you" you tried to put in the best possible way, without outright saying that people hated him and thought he was a total freak "Well they're smoking my weed, I may as well drink their booze" "I mean, technically I think it's Rick's weed," you said, shooting him a knowing look "You got me there y/n" he replied and you were surprised he knew your name

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but as you came to the butt of your smoke, you dropped it to the ground and used the tip if your boot to stamp it out. Standing up you looked back to where a crowd was formed on the back lawn and noticed your friends at the edge keeping a watchful eye on you.

"Thanks for the light Munson," you said "Any time y/l/n" Eddie said as you walked away

It took you all of five seconds to walk across the lawn and back into the music and heat of everyone.

"Were you just talking to Eddie Munson?" your friends collectively asked as you rejoined the group "Yeah," you replied nonchalantly "and?" "He's such a freak though" Melanie remarked "He wasn't that bad, you know up close he's actually pretty good looking" "Actually if you look at old photos y/n's not wrong" Andrea chimed in "Yeah, just give it all a bit of a trim and fix him up a bit…" Taylor added "he mightn't be all that bad" "I mightn't be able to fix him in a night…" you began, thinking about what you were about to say next "but I might be able to fuck him"

The three of them let out a shocked gasp at your declaration. Each of you had your own conquests, but your interest in Eddie went against your usual type.

"Oh my god y/n, you can't be serious?" Andrea said Taylor laughed before she spoke "I think it's iconic really, you have to" "And then immediately tell us" Melanie added "I think I'm just tipsy enough that this seems like a good idea" you declared to your friends

You appreciated that they didn't judge you or run off to gossip about your idea. You gave them all a quick goodbye and brief hug before making you way back over to the edge of the house where you'd last seem Eddie.

He wasn't where you had left him all of five minutes ago, so you walked down the side of the house to see if he had made his way to the front. You stood there for a moment, clearly out of place standing by yourself looking around for him. You knew if it took you long enough to find him, you'd lose your confidence and back out of the impulsive decision you were making.

That's when a van pulled up in front of you and the window rolled down to reveal just the guy you'd been looking for.

"You alright?" he asked, seemingly with genuine concern "Feel like giving me a ride?" you softly asked "Sure," he said "jump in"

Getting inside the van you were grateful to see that it was far cleaner inside than expected. Hopping into the passenger seat you began giving Eddie vague directions towards your house, with little intention of actually taking him there. Driving along the bare backroads you began fiddling with your necklace, when you felt the clasp open and it slip from your neck.

"Oh shit," you muttered leaning forward, trying to locate it in the darkness "You right?" Eddie asked, still driving and keeping his eyes on the road "I just dropped my necklace…" you said "do you have a flashlight or something back there that I could use to find it?" "Umm…" he seemed to trail off in thought, trying to go through the van's inventory "there should be one, let me just pull over and check"

Stopping in a spot just off the road, he turned and looked haphazardly behind him for the flashlight, but with no success. Huffing, you undid your seatbelt and climbed over into the back to look for it. Although you were genuinely trying to locate it, you became more aware that Eddie was getting a nice view of your ass as your remained bent over in the back looking for the light.

"I have no clue where this thing is," you declared "can you help me?" "Oh um, yeah, sure…" he replied, "just give me a second"

You heard the ignition turn off and the van move as he climbed over the back to where you were. The two of you continued to look for a few more seconds until you sighed and turned around in supposed defeat.

"It might be a lost cause" you said, adjusting your seat and coincidentally moving closer to where Eddie was "I think so…" he replied, seemingly doing the same movement as you "so…" he awkwardly said, as if to avoid the silence "So what?" you innocently said, looking up at him with flirtatious eyes

You both sat there for a moment, leaning ever so slightly closer to the other, unsure who was going to make the first move. You slowly moved your hand from the floor of the van and along his denim covered thigh. He let out a slight moan at the action which signaled to you that he was happy with your decision.

Continuing the movement of your curious fingers, you grazed them up his firm chest and towards the back of his neck. You carefully ran your fingers through his curls and finally settled on his cheek.

"You're going to need to stop doing that" he gruffly said, shooting you a knowing look "Stop what?" you said with a wide-eyed innocence as if you truly didn't know what you were doing to him "you mean this?" you remarked, moving your other hand up and pausing at the cold clasp of his belt buckle "you want me to stop then?" "Well not know" he said

From there few words were spoken. Eddie wrapped his rough hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into him. His lips were soft and welcoming as he kissed you. You moved with him as he kissed you deeper and held you closer. Moving his hand into your hair he grasped the base of your hair tightly, causing you to let out a soft moan, seeing his chance he gently bit down on your bottom lip and slowly moved his mouth down your neck.

You needed to better position yourself, so you placed your hand flat against his chest and pulled back for a moment. He seemed surprised as you lifted your leg over him and proceeded to straddle him. This time you took charge, peppering kisses along his jaw and down his neck towards his exposed nape. Moving back up you lightly nipped his earlobe making him needily groan.

You could feel his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, and you helped him by pulling it off swiftly. His eyes expanded as he came face to face with your boobs within a bright red lace bra.

"Oh my god you're so gorgeous" he said, cupping your breasts and squeezing them slightly making you grin "This needs to come off now" you informed him referring to his shirt, which is quickly obliged

He didn't waste long removing your bra and throwing it across the van. He brought his lips to your nipples and ran his tongue around them, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Eddie continued this for a bit longer and you anticipated a hickey in the morning.

"My turn" you told him, pushing him down onto his back

He lay there still, as you inched slowly further down. Teasing him, you took your time with his belt, making his squirm as you could already see how hard he was underneath the constraints of the denim. Finally allowing him free, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with them to reveal his impressive length.

He was longer and girthier than you had anticipated, not insanely big but big enough to make you audibly gasp. Running your hand over it, you smirked as he let out a soft moan at your movements. Seductively looking up at him, you made eye contact as you ran your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock. You could feel him throbbing and he couldn't stop letting out moans of pleasure as you continued to wrap your mouth around him.

"Holy shit y/n, just like that" he gasped as you felt him hit the back of your throat and he grabbed ahold of your head and pushed you down further causing you to gag.

Coming back up for air, he looked at you with pure sex in his eyes and leant down, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

"Think it's your turn now," he whispered into your ear and suddenly flipped you over, so now he was on top of you

He pulled your own jeans down quickly and practically ripped your panties off when he came to them. You could feel that you were already wet at that thought of him and shuddered as he ran his fingers over your clit.

"You're so wet" he chuckled, slowly moving his fingers around, slipping one between your folds "Just for you" you muttered, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him touching you You felt his hot breath against your ear as he said "what do you want me to do to you?"

His words made you squirm.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk" you said without even thinking "Oh that was a given sweetheart" was all he said before going down on you

His tongue moved with expertise. You'd never had someone move the way he did. Flicking his tongue over your clit he inserted two fingers inside of you and moved them in just the right way. Arching your back he pinned you down, preventing you from moving away from his mouth. It came over you before you could even realise and your body shook with pleasure against his tongue and around his fingers.

"I need you inside of me" you said, desperate to feel him

You could hear him rustling around for a moment and then come back to you, quickly putting a condom on. You were glad that he had come prepared because in the heat of it all you had completely forgot.

You gasped in pleasure as you felt him press the tip of his cock against your opening. You gripped his bare back and ran your nails down it. He held there for a second and then thrusted the rest of his length within you. You couldn't help but let out a cry as he filled you up completely.

"Are you ok?" he immediately asked upon hearing you "Yes!" you exclaimed, overcome with pleasure "keep going"

He began to thrust in and out of you, making you shuddering beneath him. As he moved you rotated your hips with him, causing him to moan as well. You stayed like that for a while, consumed within each other until his pace began to slow.

"Are you going to cum for me?" you asked, wanting him to say yes "I'm so close" he breathily said against your lips as he pulled you back in "Good" you said

He get pumping into you and suddenly quickened again, slamming into you making your walls tighten. Your breath began to shorten and you dug your fingers into his back again, as his breaths faltered too and you felt yourself approaching the edge once again. Eddie let out a few final moans and you felt yourself contract around him as you came simultaneously.

"Fuck" he gasped as he finally came and collapsed in exhaustion next to you "Wow" was all you said, staring up in disbelief at the ceiling of the van

You half expected him to get straight up and drive you home, but he rolled onto his side and pulled you towards him once again. Kissing you this time it felt less desperate and hungry, more sincere and soft.

"Is that how you expected tonight to go?" you asked, chuckling lightly "Let's just say I didn't think offering a light to y/n y/l/n would end up with me having the best sex of my life in the back of my van" he declared "Damn," you remarked "best sex of your life eh? Think I deserve a medal or something for that" "Trust me," Eddie said, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck once more "you can ask for more than just that"

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

Things I can Only Do With You at Night: Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Card

Just when I had finally started getting used to life in Kogyoku, where I’d come for a bookstore restock trip—

Child 1: "Yaaah— Whoa!?"

Kagari: "Too much wasted movement."

Child 2: "You’re wide open— Ugh!"

Kagari: "The one with an opening is you."

Child 3: "Got you— Gah!?"

Kagari: "Your grip is too weak."

(Wow… he’s merciless.)

At a dojo in the neighboring town, Prince Kagari was giving the children a lesson in swordsmanship.

The kids charged at him all at once, swinging their bamboo swords, but Prince Kagari dodged them with ease, his expression unwavering.

He blocked an attack from behind without even looking, sweeping the child’s legs out from under them, and used his hands to grab the hilt of their sword to throw

It was almost like a game, as one after another, the children rolled across the floor.

(He's even being mindful to make sure they don't bump into each other... It's like he has eyes on the back of his head.) ●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: “Well, fancy seeing you here, princess. Out on your own?"

Kagari: "Me? I’m on my way to teach swordsmanship to the kids at the dojo."

Kagari: "……Want to come along?"

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(I guess it was good thing I decided to take a walk around the town.)

Despite the intense training, the children didn’t seem to lose their motivation. In fact, their determination seemed to grow stronger.

I couldn't take my eyes off Prince Kagari, admiring how his guidance drew such spirit out of them.

After the training session ended, Prince Kagari sat cross-legged next to me, his face as composed as ever.

Emma: "Great work. Would you like some water?"

Kagari: "No, I’m fine. I was just playing with kittens, after all."

(He dealt with a dozen kids at once and calls it playing… He really is amazing.)

Kagari: "You were watching pretty intently. Was the training that unusual?"

As Prince Kagari propped his chin on his hand, looking at me, I nodded in response.

Emma: "It’s my first time seeing something like that up close. In my country, it’s rare for so many children to be trained in swordsmanship."

Kagari: "Is that so? Here in Kogyoku, there are dojos in every town, so there are plenty of opportunities to learn."

Kagari: "Children are taught to wield a sword and protect themselves from a young age. You could call it a mandatory skill."

(In a war-torn country like Kogyoku, it's commonplace for everyone to carry weapons, regardless of age or gender...)

The children who had been practicing earlier were now running around the dojo, laughing and playing.

(For those kids, dedicating themselves to sword training is not just about pursuing their dreams of becoming warriors,)

(But also about protecting themselves and their loved ones from the dangers that threaten their lives.)

Learning this through today’s session, I felt my chest tighten as I reflected on the differences between this country and the one I grew up in.

Emma: "Do you often teach the children, Prince Kagari?"

Kagari: "I usually leave it to my subordinates, but I teach whenever I can make time."

(That makes sense. Prince Kagari is the commander of his unit and a key figure in this region’s defense. It must be hard to find time for things like this.)

I felt lucky to have seen Prince Kagari teaching the children today.

At that moment, several children came over, their eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Child 1: "Teacher, is she your girlfriend?"

Kagari: "No."

Child 2: "Aww, really? You've never brought a woman with you before, so we thought maybe—"

Child 3: "I told you! Teacher only cares about dorayaki and swords!"

Child 2: "Are you seriously planning to stay single forever, Teacher? Or are you marrying a dorayaki?"

Kagari: "Most people die alone anyway. It’s best to remember that."

Kagari: "You all seem to have a lot of energy. Want to go for another set of practice? I’d be happy to oblige."

Children: "Noooo! Teacher, you’re a demon!"

Kagari: "Before that, shouldn’t you greet our guest first?"

Children: "Hello!"

Emma: "H-hello."

Kagari: "Good. Never forget to greet others, no matter the situation."

Children: "Okay!"

(The must feel comfortable around him to speak so freely like this.)

(Still… being mistaken for Prince Kagari’s girlfriend…)

I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at the misunderstanding.

Child 2: "If she’s not your girlfriend, then why’d you bring her here?"

Kagari: "She seemed interested in watching the training, so I invited her."

Emma: "Was that it?"

Kagari: "Yeah.

Kagari: You’re easy to read. That’s something I’ve learned about you."

(Prince Kagari notices everything... It's kind of intimidating but also reassuring.)

Trying to hide a growing smile, I casually covered my mouth with my hand.

Child 1: "Aww, if you were his girlfriend, we could have teased you two during the festival."

Emma: "A festival? There’s a festival happening?"

(Now that they mention it… the streets have felt livelier over the past few days.)

Kagari: "You didn’t know? This town is holding a festival soon."

Kagari: "It’s not a huge one, but there will be fireworks."

Emma: "Really? I’ve never been to a festival in Kogyoku before."

Kagari: "…Is that so? This will be your first, then."

Child 1: "Hey, hey! My family runs a sweets shop, and we’re putting up a stall at the festival!"

Child 3: "The sakura manju are the best. The skin is so chewy, and they taste amazing!"

Child 1: "We’re working super hard to prepare, so Teacher, you and the lady should come check it out!"

Emma: "Sure, I’ll definitely come!"

Child 1: "Yes! One more customer secured!"

Though I agreed in the moment, I was already filled with excitement at the idea of going to the festival. My mind began to fill with images of colorful food stalls lined up in the streets.

(The owner said there would be stalls here that can’t be found in Rhodolite.)

(I hope I’ll be able to see and experience everything during my first foreign festival.)

As I let my imagination run wild, I felt a steady gaze from beside me, sharp yet unreadable.

Emma: "Um… Is something wrong, Prince Kagari?"

Kagari: "No, nothing."

(He says that, but why won’t he look away?)

(Come to think of it… I wonder if Prince Kagari plans to go to the festival.)

Kagari: "…"

Kagari: "………"

Emma: "……..……"

(……This is so unsettling.)

After the children had left, I left the dojo with Prince Kagari.

As the sound of our footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway as we walked side by side, I felt his gaze constantly fixed on me.

(Maybe he wants to say something… Hmm, but I can’t figure out what it could be.)

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Ah! Y-Yes? What is it?"

He suddenly leaned in closer, his sharp features coming near, and I reflexively leaned back.

Kagari: "Among all the regions in Kogyoku, my territory is relatively the safest. It even attracts a fair number of tourists."

Kagari: "Even if this festival is small in scale, it has more liveliness and entertainment than festivals in other territories."

Emma: "I see. That makes me even more excited for the day to come."

(…Why is he suddenly promoting the festival?)

Kagari: "But for someone coming from another country with no familiarity with the area, it might be hard to fully enjoy the festival."

Kagari: "So, that's why—"

(Could this be… No way…)

A different kind of anticipation stirred in my chest, making me unusually nervous.

With a composed yet serious demeanor, Prince Kagari fixed his gaze on me and—

Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 116 (Volunteering As a Family)

After Ash's run-in with his cousin Michael, Heather and Conrad looked for a way to teach him some much-needed empathy. Heather made a plan with her good friend, Dylan Richards, which would bring them to San Myshuno to help at a shelter where Dylan had volunteered for years. But first, Conrad made breakfast while Lavender watched him intently with a bowl of cereal.

Heather found her sister doing laundry. "You sure you don't mind spending the day with Lavender while we're in the city?"

"Of course not! We're gonna play in the snow for a bit and then we're going over to the Goths to spend the afternoon. I really need to catch up with Lydia, and Lava can hang with little Jag."

"Just make sure to watch her around Obsidian. She gets so excited around animals, and a crow won't appreciate her squeeze hugs." The dryer beeped beside them. "Thanks for doing laundry, but I really don't want you feeling like a maid or a babysitter. How's the job search coming?"

"Great, actually! Conrad told Alexander I could help with research and analysis for his charity campaigns, so we're going to work out a schedule this afternoon. I'll probably start next week."

"That's great, Hazel, but Brindleton Bay doesn't even have a mayor. I already adopted him! Come to think of it, I don't even know who keeps the power on in this town."

She assumed the answer her own question as soon as she voiced it. George Brindleton, most likely.

"Alex thinks he could be the first real mayor Brindleton Bay's had in decades."

Heather smiled. She didn't like thinking of their friend Alex tangling with George Brindleton. If the town had no real mayor, he probably wanted it that way, but she didn't want to sound unsupportive. "Mayor Alex Goth has a nice ring to it!"

Heather, Ash, and Conrad left Lavender and Hazel playing in the snow with Gord. When they made it to the Spice District, they met up with Dylan and her daughter, Pearl, outside the graffiti-covered Soup Kitchen. As Henford-on-Bagley's grocery deliverer in her teens, Dylan had witnessed food insecurity firsthand, and she wanted to instill a passion for helping others in her own children.

The Soup Kitchen was a welcome place for unhoused sims and volunteers of all ages. A small cafe on the site served the public, with all proceeds going to the shelter. The industrial space was also a place where creativity could run wild - they encouraged their residents to create art to beautify the walls so the place felt less like a converted canning factory and more like a place they could feel at home.

Seven-year-old Ash walked around the main room in awe, where beautifully-painted murals decorated the walls and floors. This was a side of San Myshuno he'd never seen before, nothing like the stark glass and steel of his family's Uptown penthouse a thousand feet up across the bay.

Ash loved the art, but his eyes were drawn to the beds. The room was packed with them - some small enough for Lavender and Bridgette. He was surprised to think a toddler might be unhoused. It's way too cold for Lava and Bridgie to sleep outside, he thought.

Dylan showed them around the cafe, and Ash even helped the baristas deliver food to various patrons. Heather helped serve while Conrad prepared ingredients for the shelter's dinner that evening. "Are you sure you don't want help prepping the cottage pie?"

"I've got this. I thought you were keeping an eye on Ash?"

"He went upstairs with Pearl. I think he might be meeting some of the people who use the shelter. Dylan says there's a kids' room."

Upstairs, Pearl introduced Ash to Zacharius Beard and his mother, Anjali, who had been staying at the shelter since Anjali had left her husband. "Why did you leave?" Ash wondered innocently. "Was he not nice?"

Zacharius shook his head. "Daddy's mean," he insisted. Ash opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Pearl discreetly shook her head behind the Beards.

"Are you watching a movie, Zach?" she cut in.

"I was going to. Did you want to join me? Mom can stay for a bit, but then she has to finish a mural out back by the tents."

"People live in tents here?"

"Fewer sleep outside in the winter, but some don't want to stay inside with kids," explained Anjali. "But they can still come here to eat and shower whenever they need to."

"Do you watch a lot of movies?"

"The movies I like, I watch a lot," Zach said. "But I don't always have someone to watch them with me. There aren't a lot of other kids here right now. Last time Pearl was here she tried to teach me to plié, but I'm not very good at ballet."

"No one's better at ballet than Pearl," said Ash.

"I'm only good for my age. So far," Pearl insisted with a confident smile. "But one day I'll dance Swan Lake with the SanMy Ballet Company."

Anjali smiled. "I have no doubt you will, Miss Pearl. But I hope you'll all excuse me while I get painting."

"Did your mom do all the murals here?" Ash wondered.

"Most were already here, but she's an artist."

"I could do art on my craft table and bring it another time," Ash said thoughtfully. "Or can you do crafts here?"

"If we get enough donated art stuff, we can, but craft supplies get lost, toddlers eat the crayons, and most of the cafe money goes to food and stuff we need, not stuff we like," explained Zach. "We're not allowed to use the mural paint."

Downstairs, Conrad and Heather were chatting in the kitchen while a hearty cottage pie baked in the oven. "It smells incredible, Conrad. What ingredients did you use?"

"I could tell you that, but this recipe is a Gordon family secret. You've got to marry in to get it."

"There's still snow on the ground," she reminded him. "No coats, and no one freezing to death! That is the least I could hope for at our wedding."

He laughed. "Then the secret ingredients stay with me. For now."

"Would Ben know it? Maybe I'll try to ask him with Mrs. Goth's seance table," she teased, and with a sudden hiss, the power inside The Soup Kitchen went out. The lights in the large kitchen went dark, the electric stove stopped baking, and the movie upstairs shut off with a click.

"What happened?" asked Pearl, looking around fearfully and noting every light in the building was out.

"Power outages happen a lot," said Zach. "My mom says the building should have better wiring, but it's too expensive. But sometimes when the power goes out, we don't get warm dinner. Just snacks."

Listening to Zach, Ash stood with conviction. "We don't need the power on to make dinner. I have an idea!" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

ICYMI Cozy Winterfest Xtras: Winterfest With Bella Goth & Happy Holidays from the Nesbitt-Landgraab-Gordon Household

WCIF Soup Kitchen: This phenomenal lot by Fejuna in the Sims 4 Gallery. It's stunning and so detailed and the setting helped me write the story, so thank you a million times to Fejuna, and to every builder who makes my gameplay time so much more fun by sharing such incredible creations.

[cod-dump]

Roach (teen!Ghost au)

Part 2 (part 1 here)

———

John knew Kate wouldn’t be coming alone but he wasn’t expecting another American agent. As far as he knew, Kate and her family were located here for ease of access, just to have someone from CIA within range. He didn't know there was more than one of her in country. Well, he assumed this man was CIA at first.

But after getting a good look at him, John quickly figured out the man wasn’t with Kate.

He was strangely familiar, John has seen him around somewhere but he couldn’t pinpoint where. John was hesitant to let him in but Kate gave him a look that told him to step aside. So he did. And the stranger walked in, scanning the room with a hard gaze before he spotted the child on the couch with Nik and softened.

“Hey, Gary,” the man said softly, walking over slowly before he kneeled on the floor near where the boy was sitting.

“Gary?”

“He’s been missing for a few days… We- The commander here found his parents. Well, his dad,” Kate said in a hushed voice.

Gary Sanderson, son of Captain Roger Sanderson. A mercenary who was working for a private organization. This organization had a front here, as a shelter. John felt himself tense, watching the man on the floor carefully. He was thankful he sent the kids off across the street to Johnny’s house to get them out of Kate’s way. He didn’t trust this man around them.

Gary seemed to know him, watching him as the talked to him softly.

“Gave us a scare, kid. And I know you’ve been scared, too.”

Nik kept a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. He seemed also uneasy around the mercenary that apparently had been living amongst them in their town unnoticed. Or maybe Nik had noticed and wasn’t too pleased to have someone like him in his home.

“I brought something for you,” the man said, sounding ever patient with the lack of responses from the child before him. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small stuffed toy, a bear of some kind. Gary’s eyes widened at the sight of it and reached out for it.

The kid changed instantly as soon as he had it in his arms. He started crying, curling up on the couch while holding the worn toy, shaking. The man reached out and touched his knee, the boy doing nothing to push him away. The man had a sadness in his features, seemingly understanding exactly what was happening. Nik was alarmed with the boy’s sudden dive into tears and tried to comfort him, but the boy leaned away.

Kate took John into the hall, turning to him with a stern face.

“Phillip Graves, the shelter owner. He has legal guardianship of the kid.”

John blinks, “He does?”

“Gary’s dad… it’s complicated but he made arrangements for Phillip to take Gary if anything happened to him.”

John’s heart went out to the little boy. He knew. He knew why Phillip was there, he clearly knew him before this.

“Poor kid… what happened to his father?”

“I don’t even know myself. What I do know that it’s purely Phillip’s business and he has enough money to wave any official off for even looking his way.”

John frowned, Kate continuing.

“Nik’s people, from what I know, so happened to run into the tail end of Phillip’s mess, at least the part he hasn’t managed to clean up. I was already getting word from my supervisor about him looking for Gary when you called.”

John looks over his shoulder to the threshold to the living room. Would have Phillip found his way here on his own? What would have he done once he knew Nik had taken Gary? That his people were on sight of the boy’s last known location? The possibilities had him on edge, his mind going to his children and partner.

“Everything is being handled, John. Phillip’s taking the kid back with him and you can go back to your three ring circus.”

“Right…”

In the end, Phillip left with Gary in his arms, the kid asleep and clinging to him. Nik watched them leave, stone faced and quiet. John watched the cars pull away before he turned to the man, nudging his shoulder with his own to get his attention.

“Kate wouldn’t have let him leave with the kid if she didn’t trust where he was going.”

Nik grunts, no verbal response otherwise. John sighs, knowing that he was probably attached to the child.

“He couldn’t have stayed, Nik. There’s enough going on here as is.”

No response.

“Besides, we’re out of bedrooms and I’m sure the boys or Farah weren’t eager to share.”

“Could’ve turned the office into another bedroom.”

John blinks before he laughs, “Excuse me? And where would I work?”

“The basement.”

John scoffs, “Wow-“

Nik cracks a small smile, but he was completely behind it. John expected that he would be finding a way to keep tabs on Gary. John was just hoping he wouldn’t be planning on doing anything stupid, or anything to piss off what appears to be a large operation that Kate has been very aware of and has been quiet about.

John wasn’t keen for a war, especially not in his kids’ town.

[sillygoofyqueer]

PART TWO!!! PART ONE HERE!

When Wei Yi found a dead pangolin at the edges of the crop farm, he wasn't surprised - it was just another monster leaving a marker, a warning for him to relay to his parents - but he was surprised to find the urgent, tiny squeaking nearby. He was ready to run, so ready to sprint back home at the first sign of a monster luring him away, but he found...he found a nest.

Little babies in the nest, clambering over one another to stare at the strange creature looming over them. They had no survival instinct. Wei Yi could look after them. He would have company on the dark nights of fear and danger. Their mama was dead - he had to look after them. The little babies seemed to be uncaring of the change, wriggling around his collar and curling up in his pockets, allowing him to run home, so excited to show his parents that he would finally not be alone, he could be useful!-

The village had been torn to shreds.

A silent beast no doubt, Wei Yi would have noticed otherwise. His parents' corpses laid before him mutilated and bitten into. He can't remember much of what happened next. Crying (quietly, so the monster wouldn't find him). Bleeding (he tripped trying to drag his parents' corpses away from the path so the monster didn't hurt them anymore. Their blood was on his hands as well now). Running (sticking to the light, monsters didn't really like light, not sure where to go or hide but running, running, running). Blaming himself (he should have warned them about the sign, the monster, that was his duty, that was all he had to be useful and helpful and now his parents were dead and it was his fault-). Soothing the babies in his grasp (he was used to being hungry, but why would they be? They had always had food, their mama had given it to them, but he didn't know what they ate, but he had learned, he learned to keep them safe even if he hadn't been able to help his parents). Where was he to go? Nobody would help a boy from the cursed village, the others always told him that he was going to die there, wasting away, scared of everything and he was - he was so scared of every strange sound or random movement in the trees that seemed to surround the path as he ran and ran and ran. Despite how often the other villagers cursed out the cultivators, wishing for nothing but pain and shame upon them for not helping their village in desperate need of assistance, his parents always told him that they didn't know, that they would help him if he asked for it. He didn't know how long he ran, only stopping when the hunger made him too dizzy or the exhaustion made him unable to move, but he found his way to a noisy town, filled with life and laughter and excitement but he was scared, so so scared; surely the monsters would be drawn to their life and joy, this was dangerous, so so dangerous- There was strange noises and strange people and strange everything, how was he supposed to notice the monsters if there was so much going on? He couldn't breathe properly he had to hide and stay safe so he hid. He darted into a small space and hid there. People passed him, and because he was hidden and safe he could listen to their words and learn that children were going to Cang Qiong Mountain. He didn't care about that, he was focused on the peaks in the distance, marking where he had to go and beg for assistance. Why were there children already there? Were they also asking for help? Why was he being ushered up to....DIG HOLES??!?! If. If it would help him get an audience with cultivators...he carefully hid the pangolins in his pockets and in his robes so that the babies would stay safe while he dug, and dug, staring with a single-minded focus. Hunger only spurred him on, reminding him that he had to tell the cultivators about the monster- He was being spoken to, but he didn't really know what was going on, so he let himself be helped up and taken away from his hole - he quite liked his hole, he was going to miss it. It was very deep and circular (attention to detail was important when looking out for monsters) and he wished he could keep digging. A nice man looked down at him, wrapped in elegant orange robes, orange like warm fire, with a warm smile, warm like fire and safety, monsters didn't like fire so he let himself be picked up and held. The man saw the pangolins peeking out from beneath Wei Yi's robes. The man just laughed, a great booming laugh that was warm and bright and safe and oh. This man would keep the monsters away.

[grey-lark]

So Steve having a different car in the the pics I saw filled me with a lot of feelings, both a really fun reason and a terribly sad one. This is the sad one! I might also upload this to AO3 once I edit when it's not 6AM, but I hope you enjoy?

The Bimmer doesn’t’ make sense in an apocalyptic situation.

Steve knows this.

As the Upside Down claws it’s way into this universe, tendrils carving pathways across the town, a luxury car just doesn’t make sense.

Steve is well aware.

Hell, Steve is even more aware of this fact because he’s stationed at the high school. Hauling supplies and survivors requires space. It doesn’t require comfort and a smooth transmission. It doesn’t require leather worn by multiple people launching themselves in with reckless abandon, or a back seat that’s somehow always sticky because of soda-stained hands.

It doesn’t require what Steve can offer.

Loch Nora has been seemingly unaffected by the upside down. Steve would say it was the wealthy’s one last jab against the town if he hadn’t seen so many of his former neighbors huddling in the high school. It seems no matter how rich you are, no one can avoid the hunger - the desperation that comes from being completely cut off from the rest of the world.

Steve lets the engine idle in the drive way of his old house. The intact windows gleam with a promise he’d be willing to brave if he didn’t know for a fact how the twisted vines covered the bottom floor of the house. Pressing his head against the steering wheel, he lets the out a shuttering sigh, feeling how the Bimmer purrs, seemingly in time, below him.

“I know, baby” he laments, running a hand across her dashboard before he steals himself and twists the key in his hand. She shutters down, his own shaky breath following.

It feels right, Steve thinks, to leave her here. To leave her in the remnants of a life he used to live. He slides her keys into the visor, in case there is some one who needs her. Someone who can justify loving her, in a way Steve simply can’t.

There’s a truck waiting for him.

Something practical and light blue; such a far cry from his maroon baby. It makes sense, he knows. He knows that a truck will help him in this new, harsh, world they live in. Knows it will be easier to ferry survivors back to the school and supplies to where they need to go. But he can’t help but look at the Bimmer, now silent in front of his old house, and remember how she safely - impossibly - carried five (sometimes six!) children to the mall regardless of seatbelt laws. How she dutifully shuffled Robin to and from school back when they thought their biggest concerns were whether a girl liked them or not. He can hear Bowie and Queen still playing from her speakers and his breath falters, gasping, as he could swear it’s not just in his head.

Maybe somewhere, there are quarters still rattling around, waiting for Dustin to pry them from her carpet, not knowing the arcade has been swallowed for months. Maybe now there’s even the tail end of a blunt under one of front seats, safely kept after Robin dropped it, laughing too hard to hold on to the last few puffs. Maybe, if Steve presses himself against her side hard enough, all the stains – all the memories – will seep into him and leave the Bimmer a little less haunted.

It doesn’t work, of course.  Even after he opens his eyes, after he peels himself from her metal chaises with a shuddering breath, she’s still standing there, same as she ever was. His childhood home too, stands there as it ever has.

They make quite the picture. The large green house and the sleek maroon car and the boy with the styled hair.

All so put together.

All falling apart.

But it’s okay. There’s a truck waiting for him. It’s practical and light blue. The kids have already climbed into it’s back; figuring out their seating arrangements before Steve even had time to yell at them about the safety issues of riding back there. Max will sit up front in the cabin with him, no matter how much she complains – Vecna assured that. But even she smiles when she hears the hoots and hollers of The Party in the back, howling their freedom in defiance to an ever reddening sky.

Steve’s finger brush the taillight of the Bimmer, before running through his own hair. He sees the house he grew up in; the streets that were his home. He sees his car, his baby, shining like she did when he first saw her. He leaves her, a useless car parked outside an empty home.

His car.

Parked outside his home.

There is a truck waiting for him.

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic Fics by...

- kingsofeverything -

[1]

“It wouldn’t annoy me. I like talking to you. Hearing from you. You know that.”

Louis does know, though he tries not to think about it. Every time Harry says something like that, something kind or sweet or sincere, Louis laughs it off or makes a joke or changes the subject. It’s bad enough that he has to live with Harry, sleep beside him every night, spend all of his time with him… He has to fight it because he can’t let on how easy it would be to fall back in love with him.

It’d end badly. There’s no way around it. Because when Louis leaves in nine months, he’ll be gone for the next five years of Harry’s life. Five years that Harry hasn’t lived yet—Harry’s future—and neither of them know what’s coming. Louis can’t fall for Harry again when he knows it’ll end in heartbreak.

Once was enough.

[2]

“So, um…” Louis taps his fingers against his knee, and Harry wants to lay his hand on top of Louis’ to stop him, but he refrains, unsure what casual touches mean between them anymore. “We’re having a baby?”

Harry turns to find Louis looking at him hopefully, eyes wide. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. “It’s not a fantasy, Louis. Jesus. This isn’t a game.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Harry says. He clenches his jaw and then forces himself to relax. Stress isn’t good for the baby.

“Harry, I’m not— I know this is different.”

“Do you?” Harry asks, because it doesn’t even seem real to him right now.

“Yes! I told you about all my siblings. My mom’s a midwife, for fuck’s sake.”

Harry cringes. “Sorry.”

[3]

“You think you’re going to fix the house by yourself? What if you fall off the roof?”

“I’m not going to fall off the roof.”

“Still. You can’t. I’m not okay with that.”

Harry rolls his eyes and closes his laptop. “Fine. Then after the insurance agent is done with their shit, we get someone else to do the work. I know people in town who can do it. I was just trying to save us money.”

“You misunderstand, Styles. I mean I’m not okay with you doing it by yourself.” Louis crosses his arms and smirks. “I’m going to help.”

Harry laughs so hard that when Louis shoves him he actually slips off of his stool and stumbles a bit. “That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. You’re going to push me off the roof, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

[4]

Harry glances over, line between his eyebrows, lips pursed. “Okay. Let's start simple. I want you to be the Louis who sits at the desk across from me and sometimes brings me coffee and makes fun of my favorite salad. And I want you to also be the Louis on this trip who tickled me until I almost threw up and who held my hand in a hot air balloon and who cleaned the sand out of my eyes. And, even though you have, like, some other guy out there with like ‘circumstances’ or whatever keeping you apart, I want you to be my boyfriend. At least for a little while.”

“Harold,” Louis says, pressing his fist to his lips and closing his eyes as the feeling of relief settles over him.

“What?”

“The circumstances are that he, well, he had a boyfriend. And we work together,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows, and waiting for his words to sink in. 

“Oh…” Harry scrunches his nose and twists his lips, but can’t hide his smile. “It’s me.”

- answers below -

1- The Second Hand Unwinds 

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

2- Say Something

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

3- Don't Want Shelter

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

4- Have Love, Will Travel 

Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series.

It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

[strawberyaurabya]

Do you think Belos convinced himself he “saved” Caleb by killing him?

Hello, @raptors-n-foxes!

Knowing his ideology, probably. From the early 1600s, Philip and his brother were raised in what was inferred to be a strict, Puritanical society with little to no regard for kindness towards those who were different from the optimal image of what was right in their religion’s eyes.

Puritans who had began immigration from Britain and other parts of Europe in that time period initially moved to North America (and what was soon to become the colonies) to pursue a more strict and taut practice of their interpretation of the Bible, since they began to view the churches of England as corrupt. So from there, we can already assume that the people of Gravesfield were already very self-righteous and difficult to subject to change. So putting two, vulnerable orphaned brothers in that society would probably lead them to be heavily indoctrinated and influenced, since it’s the only opportunity for survival and a chance at acceptance.

Since Caleb was revealed to be older, he would be less susceptible to conforming in order to be deemed “fit”, and we can see how he eventually overcame such unsavory discrimination when he befriended witches. Philip, being younger, would not. Children with less developed minds are likely to follow in the path of elders that they look up to… Even if their role models aren’t the most optimal ones. And as they grow older, they plunge deeper into the hatred and warped perception of those around them, with a harder chance to get out. Philip Wittebane is a victim of his time period, which later grows up to be a living example of the foolishness and out-dated standards of his time.

So when Caleb left that hole to find sanctum in the Boiling Isles, where he finally found his true home, Philip saw it as an act of betrayal. Not only towards him, but towards their dreams, their town’s ideals, and their future. My personal take of Philip’s thoughts is that he did not believe that his brother, which he had spent his entire life around, would throw their relationship away like that. He would rather believe that Caleb had spent so much time around witches and forbidden magic, that it had taken over his mind and corrupted him. Hence, came the idea of putting him out of his misery. We can see such parallels in King’s Tide (The scene in which he had captured Luz and was trying to convince her to join him in his return to Gravesfield), when Luz had called him a hypocrite; his exact words were…

“I do pity you. These monsters have warped your sense of reality. Perhaps it'd be merciful to put you out of your misery…”

So it’s either his sadism, or Belos is in so much denial that his way is the incorrect way, that he’d rather believe that Caleb and Luz been swept away by dark magic instead. And since he’s had 400 years to mingle upon those thoughts and convince himself he’s in the right, he would believe it. And it’s so twisted, that even hallucinations of his brother have only fed his delusions. In the episode, For the Future, even near his death bed, he replies:

“I tried to save your soul. It's your fault this all happened!”

Which verbally summarizes what his motivation is behind killing his brother. (Maybe he even believes that making grimwalkers of his brother gives him a certain chance at “redemption”; a chance to prove that he doesn’t have to be seduced by the charm of witches and their realm) (Oh, and also… In this clip, the hand that falls off is his right one, leaving him with only his left hand. Which is not only his predominant hand, but also the kind that Puritans were discouraged from using as it was associated with the Devil’s work. Not related to this question, I just thought it would be something interesting to share!)

So, in summary, yes. I do believe that Philip convinced himself that killing Caleb saved him in the long run. This is PART of what makes him evil compared to his older brother. It is his willful refusal to change, to accept the peace between magic and conformity.

[propertyofrjl]

As someone who is currently rewatching all of Aphmau's series and has major brain rot over the Aphverse, i am desperate to find a fic where some of the mystreet people get somehow transported to the MCD universe. BECAUSE IMAGINE THE ANGST POTENTIAL IF MYSTREET!ZANE WAS IN THIS GROUP OMG.

MCD!Garroth having to see what he could have had with his own brother if things were different is breaking my heart.

OH OH OH BUT ALSO

Right imagine this little mystreet group is also when they're teenagers, smol little Zane being transported to a world where pretty much everyone despises him because MCD!Zane is the embodiment of evil.

Like, maybe little Aphmau and Zane get separated from the others and end up in Phoenix drop, they manage to make it to the town square where Molly is coming back from praying to Irene, and she sees Zane, the man who hurt her precious baby and used dark magic on their town. Molly then runs to alert whichever guard she can find (it just so happens that Laurence, Garroth and Dante are all leaving the guard tower for their respective patrols at that moment)

These men run to the town square, fearing the place they are sworn to protect is under attack by one of the most dangerous tyrants of their time, and they come to find not only Zane (who's looking around with a sour look on his face, and albeit a little smaller than Garroth remembers) but also the woman they spend their lives protecting (and two of said party are definitely, totally, not in love with her...)

And when i say they're teenagers, i mean the first season of PDH vibes, so Zane and Aphmau with these squeaky voices and no social skills, and Aphmau has spent most of her time looking around in awe up until that point because OH MY IRENE ZANE IT'S JUST LIKE MY GAME!!!

Laurence moves first, rushing over he knocks Zane to the ground harshly before yanking Aphmau away, to which she screams because this tall, scar covered, very scary looking version of her friend (or maybe crush depending on when in PHD this happens) has picked her up far too easily for her liking and she's worried about Zane.

Then Garroth and Dante move in, and suddenly Zane is being looked down upon by his big brother with such a look of disgust and hatred that has never happened before. Garroth loves Zane. Sure they disagree and fight every now and then, they're brothers, but Zane knows Garroth loves him and would keep him safe, and even though he wouldn't admit it, Zane loves his brother too. But the scary and hate filled man standing above him does not make Zane feel safe, and a flush of fear runs through him, followed by watery eyes and embarrassment because why is he feeling so weak and despised by one of the only men in his life who's provided a steady stream of love (unlike his dad)

And when Zane pulls his shaking hands up in surrender, with this wounded animal look upon his face, MCD!Garroth almost has to double take, because not even as children has he ever seen Zane look at him with such fear, the only man who'd ever brought fear upon Zane's face was their father, and maybe that gives Garroth his own little internal crisis because he's tried so hard to be nothing like dear old dad.

BUT ALSO, LETS PICTURE THIS

The rest of the group (let's say...Laurence, KC and Garroth) show up, and they try to find a way home without the help of the villagers of Phoenix drop, only to be attacked and have Zane kidnapped by people MCD!Zane has royally pissed off. The little group run back to Phoenix drop for help, and all the MCD lot just can't seem to understand why these little versions of themselves/their friends want to help Zane of all people so badly. It takes the Garroths having a full on row over it and Mystreet!Aph breaking down in tears to get people to help (because how can Laurence and Garroth watch a small version of the woman they love sob and not do something to try and help?) and obvi Lord Aphmau was on board the moment they asked and was going to do it alone before her Guards through out their protests and Little Garroth decided to cuss out MCD!Garroth for "abandoning his baby brother" (which is where the fight started)

...

Maybe I should write this myself...

Anyway, that's where my brain has gotten me today.

[deansapplepie]

I don’t believe in colors…(Soulmate Au)

Summary: What could possibly happen when two people that grew up with no example of a healthy relationship are destined soulmates?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female! Reader

Prison Era

Genre: Angst, Strangers to Soulmates to Enemies to Friends (?), kind of neutral/happy ending.

Warnings: angst, violence, mentions of abusive relationships, toxic behavior, swearing, mentions of death, small brief mention of sexual abuse attempt(not by Daryl), mentions of domestic violence against children and woman. (Let me know if I forgot anything)

Word count: 7,111

A/N: When I had the idea for this, I didn’t think it would become so angsty as it is. The characters just took control of the story and this is the result. I tried to soften in the end, but I didn’t see any other way of finishing this one shot if not like this to be coherent to the characters evolution.

In the world you lived before there were a thing that they called soulmates. Everyone had one and should find in their lives, and how would you know if you find your soulmate? Well… you couldn’t see colors until you met the person destined to you.

Sometimes people would become tired of waiting to meet their soulmates, so they would settle with a person they liked but wasn’t their destined one, and that is what you thought happened to your parents. They never admitted it clearly to you, they told you fairytales about soulmates when you were little and they always told you they were soulmates, but their relationship told you otherwise. You thought they were trying to feed that fantasy on you.

You’ve seen in your friends’ house before, how their parents were. They had heart eyes at each other almost always, treated each other good and were really partners. Not that you believed soulmates didn’t have their differences, you knew they fought like every other couple, but it was never so intense like it was back at your home.

Your parents would fight every single day, over stupid things or things from their past that they should have already forgiven each other. Both your parents had a short temper, your father would punch, kick and break everything at home, while your mother would provoke him and elicit more fight between them. As soon as you could, you left home, trying to leave everything behind. They were good parents, they loved you and all, but their toxicity against each other spilled over you all the time and you couldn’t help not feeling emotionally involved in it. Even when you lived alone you couldn’t help but jump when you heard any slightly high noise thinking it was you father having another outburst, and you didn’t even lived with them anymore. So, because of them you didn’t believe soulmates were real, even though you had been proven by many people that it indeed was real. In your mind, you also felt like you were cursed and just like your parents you weren’t destined to find your soulmate.

The world now was very different than it used to be before, there were dead people that in reality were undead walking around everywhere and killing the living. When the outbreak happened, you were alone. You tried contacting your family but they never answered the phone. Now you think that by that time they were probably already dead. In the months following the end of the world you had been in many different groups, finding friends in some, just to lose them to the dead ones or for the sons of bitches alive ones. Other times you ended up in groups that had no good people and which you didn’t want to be related, so you’d escape in the middle of night and try to distance yourself the maximum from them.

With the end of the world, you would never find your soulmate, not that you wanted to. You didn’t believe on this shit anymore. Now you were alone, you’d rather stay like this than to start liking people and have they dying, or to be with the wrong people again.

You were now in a small town in Georgia, you didn’t even know the name of the city, but it didn’t matter anymore. You were looking for some place you could stay, maybe a night or two… who knows. You found a small market that still had some supply, so you started taking everything that you think could be useful and that you could carry by yourself. You were in the back of the market when you heard the front door opening, you hid behind a shelf and listened to a man and a woman talking. You tried to guide yourself by their voices so you would not encounter them and leave silently. You had your gun in your hand, you were bypassing the shelf when between one corridor and the other you came face to face to a brunette woman and an asian man. You hold your gun in their direction and they pointed theirs at your.

“I don’t wanna problem. Just took some supplies and I’m leaving.” You told them.

“Who are you?” The woman asked.

“I’m no one. It doesn’t matter, we’re not seeing each other again after today.” You answered while analyzing both of them and all the ways you could escape them.

“How can we know if you’re not gonna attack us?” The man asked.

“I’d already have attacked you if I wanted, I hid because I wanted to leave without being noticed. It’s not like I can trust you’re not attacking me too.” They didn’t seem like bad people, but you could see they were as cautious as you were.

“You can go, as long as you don’t try anything against us, we’re not going to attack you.” The woman said and she and the guy let you pass, still pointing the gun at you.

You walked backwards still pointing the gun at them, till you reached the front door. When you were going to open the door and leave you saw a small herd of deads coming on the street.

“Fuck.” You cursed going back in their direction. “Go to the back, there are many deads coming.”

They looked to see if it was true and went to the back of store with you. You hid behind the shelves sometimes checking to see if they were still passing. Your plans of staying around for more than one day could be forgotten it wasn’t safe around here.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” The woman asked you.

“Yes, I do.” You lied.

“If you don’t we have a place, maybe you could come with us. You just need to answer some questions.” She said, You didn’t even know each other’s names, why were she trusting you that they had a place.

“We have a group, there’s more people. It’s safer.” The young man completed.

“I don’t do groups anymore.” You answered, finding a shelf of condiments very interesting. “I’m better alone.”

“We have fences, and walls. It’s well protected where we are. Our group have survived well since the beginning.” She said.

“Lucky you, everybody I met along the way is dead and the ones that aren’t, I wish they were.” You answered dryly.

“I’m Maggie.” The woman said, You didn’t want to know their names, you just wanted to go. “He’s Gleen.”

You didn’t say anything, it made the couple start to think about everything that might have happened to you and your groups so you would be like this. Meanwhile, you thought that maybe, a name would not be so harmful. It was just a word after all.

“Y/N.” You said.

Should you trust people again? Should you be close to people again and hurt when they die and leave you alone in this world one more time? What if they were like the others?

“How many walkers did you kill?” Glenn asked you, and you got a little confused.

“Walkers?” You asked back, what the hell was this?

“The dead people walking around.” He clarified.

“I don’t know, do you keep a track on that? Would never be able to count.” This question was an absurd who would count it and remember the numbers days after.

“How many people did you kill?” He asked you again. What?

“2, maybe 3.” You answered. “These questions are getting weird.”

“Why?” Maggie asked you, this was an important one.

“One man tried to hurt my friend, I had to do it to save her, but well… she died either way. The other two, was a group that I found when I was alone, they took me in, but they weren’t good people. Those men they… tried…” You looked at Maggie, you didn’t know why you were giving all this details to them, but she was a woman, she would understand. “… you know. I killed one of them trying to escape, the other one was hurt and unconscious when I left, so I don’t know if he counts as one of the people I killed.”

“Come with us.” She said, Rick was probably going to be mad at them, but something told her that she needed to take you in, and if Maggie made a decision Glenn trusted her. “If you don’t like it there, you can leave.”

You looked at them, and you didn’t believe on that shit of trust your inner voice or feel people energy, but in fact your inner voice said you should go with them and you felt they had a good energy. Maybe… it was instinct, well, on instincts you could believe.

“Ok, I’m going with you. Don’t try to keep me there if I don’t want to, and if you do, know that’ll find my way out. No matter how.” You said, you wanted this to be a warning to them, but they just saw someone that was hurt by the end of the world just like them and that because of this had some trust issues, just like them. They couldn’t blame you, they didn’t trust people easily too.

“Perfect. We’re getting what we need and then we’re going.” Maggie said enthusiastically.

They asked for your help and you helped them, between all the things they caught there was baby formula, so apparently their group had a baby. When you had got everything they needed, you stored it on their car and you entered in the back seat while the couple went on the front.

The ride was silent most of the time, except for the couple chatting all the time. At some point, Maggie decided to make a conversation with you.

“So, Y/N… have you found your soulmate yet?” You almost rolled your eyes, why everyone was so obsessed with it?

“Does it look like I did?” You couldn’t contain the bitter answer leaving your lips as a natural answer. “He’s pretty much dead already, if he exists. I don’t believe in soulmates.”

“Well, Glenn and I are soulmates, so you should believe if we exist.” She answered trying to convince you. Well, you believed people before and they were lying.

“ I can’t see through your eyes, and as I can’t see… I don’t believe in colors, in the same way I don’t believe in soulmates.” You answered as if it was the most logical thing, if you can’t see, it doesn’t exists.

“You sound just like our friend… he doesn’t believe on all of this too. Maybe you’ll be good friends.” Glenn commented from the driver seat. You had the feeling you’d want to leave that place soon enough if everybody was like them… otherwise you’d melt your heart again, and you’d suffer again. You could be a bitter person, but you also enjoyed having good people around you. You didn’t have many friends in the old world, but you had the best and they were just as pleasant as these people sounded to be, You didn’t want to have your hopes high.

The rest of the trip was silent on your side, they didn’t try to push you to talk again, and you were glad about it, because you didn’t want to get more involved than you already were by going with these people. When you arrived, you discovered that their place was a prison. Indeed a good place for a group to build something, but for how long? Was it really safe? The gates opened and the car drove up the highest point in the prison, stopping near one of the blocks.

Glenn and Maggie left the car, and you followed them grabbing your backpack. People started to gather around and one man came furiously in your direction. “What did I tell you about bringing strangers?” He throw the words at the couple.

“She was alone Rick and she saved us from a herd.” Maggie said. No, you didn’t. You just let them know there was a herd coming, what they did after that was their choice.

“We made her the questions, she can be helpful and she’s not a danger for us.” Glenn said.

“Well, that we’ll see…” the Rick guy told eyeing you as if he stared long enough he’d be inside your mind and see your true intentions. “Take everything that can be used as weapon from her, we’ll have her separated from us.”

“Wait! Nobody said I’d be unarmed here.” You protested giving a step backwards. “I’m not staying in a place I am outnumbered and with no weapon.”

“These are the rules to stay, we can’t trust you just now. Once we know you’re reliable you’ll have your guns back.” Rick said making it clear there was no negotiation.

“Fine, so I’m leaving. I didn’t want to come to start with, these two convinced me. I’ve been on my own all this time, I don’t need this.” You finished moving your finger around to indicate the prison.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” You heard a raspy voice coming from behind you in the same moment you took your backpack and turned around to go to the exit.

When you turned around there happened to be a tall man approaching the group, wearing sleeveless shirts showing his well built arms and carrying a crossbow, and when your eyes met his, you knew you were fucked. The world around you became bright and colorful all at once, the sun light didn’t affect you much before, but now it was almost blinding with all the light and colors. You put your hand on your forehead trying to protect your eyes and both of you said one single word.

“Fuck.”

Everyone around, or at least the ones that had already experienced it, knew what was happening and they couldn’t be more in shock. Maggie felt as if she was a prophet that made a divination that you had something to do with them. Glenn couldn’t believe in his eyes, in the whole world these two people with the same beliefs, really? Hershel had a knowing smile on his face, he just wanted to go to the archer and tell him ‘I told you so, son’, but in this moment he couldn’t do it. You came out from the daze you were in, a million thoughts running on your head.

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m definitely leaving.” You said looking to the man that had some intensity in his blue eyes that you couldn’t quite read, and you didn’t want to.

You started to go down the hill on the direction of the gates, everyone was shocked and didn’t understand your reaction. Soon, you were stopped by Maggie that ran and jumped in front of you.

“You can’t go.” She said, and you laughed dryly.

“You said no one would keep me here if I didn’t want. So, yes, I can.” You replied trying to continue going by walking to the other side.

“You found your soulmate, you can’t just live like this.” She said, and this time you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do you have any idea of how many people wish they could find their soulmates?” Oh, you had an idea.

“I can, and I’m leaving.” You replied. “This soulmate bullshit isn’t real and the colors, they��re useless, I lived well enough without them.”

“I understand, you’re panicking. I panicked too when I first met Glenn, but look we’re here now.” Maggie told you about her experience trying to convince you.

Soon Glenn, showed by Maggie’s side to try to reason with you. “Are you going to lose your chance of love?”

“Love is a lie, and you’re stupid if you believe on it.” You spat the words and opened you way between him and Maggie continuing your path.

Daryl stayed glued at his spot, no reaction came from him. He never believed on soulmates, his parents obviously weren’t soulmates, and he never thought that him a Dixon, was worthy of find his. He didn’t even think he had one, if soulmates were real, and he new they weren’t. All the group observed the situation and had no idea on what to do. Glenn and Maggie tried their best to convince you to stay, but they weren’t successful. Against his own beliefs on what was better for the group, Rick followed you and when you were almost at the gate he stopped you.

“Stay.” He said blocking your way to the gate.

“Now, you want me to stay? Just because apparently I’m your friend’s soulmate. Tell him, he can shove the colors up in his…” Rick interrupted you before you could complete what you were going to say.

“Stay, you can keep your weapons. Whatever. If Glenn and Maggie trust you, I’m going to trust you too.” He insisted, how could he change his mind completely? If he trusted the couple so badly he would have accepted you right away.

Even though Rick never had a soulmate, he knew they were real, because he saw how his parents were. He really loved Lori, his late wife, but they weren’t soulmates. He couldn’t just let you go away and let Daryl lose his chance on happiness. The archer deserved to be happy, he was a good man and had become a good friend of his, and he couldn’t let his stubbornness, and yours, get on Daryl’s Happiness way.

“Ok, I think. I’m going to stay some days and see if I stay here or not.” You replied after a moment of thinking between kicking his balls and running away, and staying here with your not-soulmate and all these people.

“Good. Follow me, I’m going to introduce you to the others. I’m Rick.” He told you while you went back up the hill.

“Y/N.” You simply answered, he was not nice with you in the beginning, you’re not going to be nice to him too.

When you were back up there, he started presenting you all the people. You got to know Hershel, an elderly man that was Maggie’s father and the doctor of the group. You met Carol a sympathetic short haired woman. Then, Rick turned to the blue eyed man that happened to be your ‘soulmate’.

“This is Daryl Dixon. Daryl, this is Y/N” he introduced you to each other, to all the others you had greeted, used the education your parents gave you, they may had been a shitty couple, but they were really good parents. But HIM? You didn’t move one muscle on your face to try being more pleasant, neither did he. He grunted in response, so you grunted back at him.

While that Rick observed both of you and thought that this was going to be a long road. After your grunt exchange with the archer, you followed Rick inside where they had a kind of kitchen. Since you were staying there you opened you backpack and left all the food you had stored in your backpack for the next days. They wouldn’t last too long anyway. A young boy came running to Rick and called him Dad, well the angry man from earlier really had something to protect. He presented the kid as Carl.

“If you want, I can help him with school things. I used to work with kids.” You said, and that was true. It was the last thing you thought you’d ever do in your life, but you ended up working with kids, and you did love the little monsters.

“Ugh… it would be good, but we lost all the school books he had.” He said scratching the back of his neck, part because of the book situation and the other part because he didn’t want to trust his kid to you, but he also wanted to make you feel part of the group so you and Daryl could understand each other.

“Maybe we can look at some school if we find something.” You commented.

Then a young blonde girl came from a gate that took to another part of the compound, carrying a baby on her arms. You learned she was Maggie’s sister and the baby was Judith, Rick’s newborn daughter.

“She’s so cute!” You said, you couldn’t resist to a beautiful baby. You weren’t comfortable with them, but you couldn’t help it when you saw little Judith. “Can I carry her a little bit? Never thought I’d see a baby again.”

Before Rick could say anything, someone spoke for him. “Ya ain’t touchin’ lil ass kicker!” The archer entered the room.

“Last time I checked, the name of her father was Rick Grimes and not Daryl Dixon.” You simply couldn’t not talk back.

“Nobody is going to touch her, because I’m going to take my baby girl right now, cause I missed her so much.” Rick took Jude from Beth’s arms in an attempt to not let you have his daughter, but also to say that’s not because he didn’t trust you, he just didn’t want you and Daryl fighting.

Daryl rolled his eyes at Rick, he knew the ex-sheriff deputy didn’t like strangers touching his kids or close to his kids. So, why not saying it and try to do amends? After the lady named Carol helped you settle in, there was an empty cell that could be yours.

The days passed and the group started to get used to you and you were also getting used to them. Even if you really wanted to run from the place and don’t look back, you had to admit that you were getting attached to these people, something that you didn’t want to happen. Your relation with Daryl didn’t get any better, you talked to each other when necessary and Rick seemed to like to put you two together in activities such as keeping watch and going on runs. Both of you would do everything fighting from beginning to end, at least on watches you stayed most of the time in silence. He liked to blame you for everything that went wrong on the activities you were together, if you didn’t do something the exactly same way he does, he’d get mad and argue with you.

The both of you had just arrived from a run and the others observed as you approached the compound on Daryl’s bike.

“Why don’t they just kiss each other and make out?” Maggie commented to Rick, Glenn and Carol. “It’s obvious this is all sexual tension between them.”

“They’ll at the right time.” Rick replied, even though there was no evolution on your relationship with the archer. “In the meantime, let’s continue to make them work together.”

Once you got off from the bike the group surrounded you to know how it went and what you have brought. When Rick opened his mouth to ask you, you just sighed, but Daryl… he erupted in anger like a damn volcano. “Ask her, how it went! ‘Cause it was shit ‘cause of’er!”

“Me? Really? It’s not my fault if you pick on me because of everything! I can’t even breath wrong!” You bursted and faster than the other times you forgot the whole group was watching.

“Ya attracted all those walkers to us with the tantrum ya threw!” He observed making you even angrier.

“Yes! I freaked out! Because you were picking on my fucking breathing! We had just run from walkers and had finally been able to mislead them, and you were worried with my fucking breathing that they couldn’t even listen to! How did you expect me to breath after a run?!” He was making no sense. It was ridiculous how he found excuses to fight with you.

“I expected ya to not be so infuriating!” He didn’t want to let you win.

“Look, I don’t like you. You don’t like me. So make me a favor, don’t talk to me even on runs. Just like we do during the watches. It’s gonna be better for the group.” Everybody was stupefied, this had been the worst fight you had in all the history of fights you had, which were many for the short period of time you were with the group.

“The heavens must really dislike me to send a soulmate jus’ like ya.“ he spit the words without even noticing that he was talking about something he didn’t believe.

“I have no soulmate! Soulmates don’t exist!” You exploded. “If you’re my soulmate, where were you? Where were you when I most needed? Where were you when I wanted to believe in this shit to prove me I was wrong? Where were you when the world ended? Where the fuck were you all the times I was left alone!?”

When you finished you realized you had talked too much, you had even said things you didn’t know you felt. You had tears in your eyes, he was struck and the others were speechless. You opened your bag, took your gun and knife, and then an iron long thing that you found on the patio, and went to Rick.

“Rick, open the gates for me. Please.” You asked.

“You can’t leave in this state, I couldn’t permit…” he tried to reason with you.

“I’m not going far. I’ll be ok, open it. Please.” You asked one more time and you hoped he would say yes before your tears fell down in front of everyone.

He said nothing, just turned his back and descended the hills, you followed him till the gate.

“Be careful” he said opening the gate.

“I’m not going far, just gonna kill some walkers around the fence.” You replied, before leaving to kill some walkers and let your feelings out.

Once you found the first one, the iron thing went straight into it’s skull. You pulled the metal and discarded the body going to the next, to the next, to the next, to the next… while you killed each of them, you cried. You cried like you haven’t cried in months. Also, you let the anger you felt go in each walker you killed.

While you were releasing all your feelings on the walkers, Daryl, Rick, Carol and Maggie observed you from afar. “Look, I bet she’s imagining the walkers head ‘s mine.” Daryl tried to joke, which was not well received by the others.

“This isn’t a time for jokes Daryl, she was crying.” Carol reprehended him. “And it’s also not healthy she going outside kill walkers when she’s angry at you.”

“Better them than me.” The archer simply replied. He didn’t want to be defeated, to lose the battle, but he couldn’t deny that your words were still ringing in his ears and that the tears he saw in your eyes shattered something inside him. “Look, she was the one that started all this shit. She looked at me and said ‘yeah, I’m really leaving.’” He said trying to make a high pitched voice for you in the end.

“Are you telling us that all this war between you two, is because you think she decided to leave when she saw you were her soulmate?” Maggie asked the archer that just shrugged. “ are you a man or boy? Seriously?”

“If she doesn’t like wha’ she got, I don’t need to like wha’ I got.” He said. “And, I never believed in that soulmate shit.”

“Don’t believe and half an hour ago said ‘heaven must dislike me for givin’ me a soulmate like ya’, yeah, you really convinced us that you don’t believe in it.” Rick mocked his friend.

“She went through a lot Daryl.” Maggie said, observing like you fought outside the security of the prison worried her. “I don’t know the whole story, but she got traumas and she lost people, just like us. Just like you. Did you ever stopped to think why she doesn’t ‘believe’ in soulmates too? Maybe… the both of you are really a pair made in heaven, you just need to stop hurting each other.”

It was getting late, the day was almost over and there was little time for everything to be completely dark. You hadn’t come back yet, you were still there killing walkers just like if they didn’t tire you at all. The group observed you, it was already time for them to intervene, they couldn’t let you out there anymore.

“Daryl, go bring her inside.” Rick told the redneck.

“Why me? She ain’t comin’ with me.” He protested, from all the people that he could ask, Daryl didn’t think he was the best option.

“You caused this, you bring her back.” Rick said pointing at the woman that was still hitting walkers brains. “ don’t give me that look, I know you both are guilty, but this time you really exaggerated.”

The hunter grunted and left to the gates stomping his feet just like when a child have to do something the parents asked but they don’t want to. His crossbow on his shoulder, knife on his waist and the keys to open the gate in his hand. He opened the gate, closed it and walked in the direction where you were killing walkers non stop. When he got close to you, he took his crossbow and hit the last walker you were going to kill. When the walker fell to the ground, an arrow in the middle of its head you turned around and saw the archer coming in your direction.

“It was mine! You had no right to kill it!” You protested all the anger you had towards him coming back.

“Last time I checked walkers were no one’s property, sweetheart. It’s fair game.” He replied you sarcastically. “The show is over, let’s go back inside.”

“Fuck you! I’m going nowhere with you.” You threw him your middle finger and started walking farther from the entrance to the prison.

“Never told ya had a choice…” He said right before he caught you and threw you over his shoulder, your upper half on his back and your ass right at his shoulder.

“Put. Me. Down. DIXON!” You’d punch his back and try to kick his stomach, but his hold on your leg stopped you of being able to do so.

“That’s ma name.” He said walking with you in the direction of the gates. “Stop being a brat.”

“I hate you!”

Punches. Kicks. Grunts.

“I know.”

“When you put me down, I’m gonna kick your balls up your ass…” you threatened him.

“I’d like to see ya try.” He replied nonchalantly, while he put the gate aside just enough to enter with you, closing it right after and locking.

“We’re inside. Put me down.”

He ignored you going up the hill still carrying you.

“You know that I’m armed and I have this thing, I don’t know what it is, in my hand that can go through walkers brains and that I can use against you.” You threatened him, but he knew you wouldn’t do that. You were tough, but he also knew that you knew he wasn’t going to do anything against you, so you’d not actually try to kill him.

“Yeah, I know. If ya wanted, ya’d had already killed me with this thing.” He replied no worry in his voice. You just felt like a fraud not being able to threaten him and get what you wanted. “Yer order is delivered sir.” Daryl said as soon as you were in front of the buildings, the others waiting for you, he put you down.

You were covered in walker blood, your head, face, hair, clothes, arms… Your face, a mess of blood, sweat and tears, literally. You looked at Rick and you knew he was the one that sent Daryl there, also what Daryl said implied it a little.

“You could just had called me, Rick.” You told the ex sheriff deputy.

You took your backpack that was still on the ground and just shoved your gun and knife inside it. Heading inside you sighed heavily now being aware of the tiredness of your body and feeling disgusted by all the dirt and walker blood on you. You dropped your things on your cell, took a new change of clothes, a towel and went to the showers.

Later that day in the silence of your cell, you felt an uneasy feeling. You missed your family, you missed your fucked up family… you didn’t miss the everyday life you had when you were younger, all the fights, hurtful words and broken furniture around the house, but you missed the little nice moments, playing with your dad when you were little, the comforting embrace of your mother when you needed it and the small time between all the fights that seemed like bad things would never happen again, just to happen a few hours/days later.

You had managed to keep some photos of your family with you. Your parents when they were still dating, you and them in a park picnicking when you were five and 2 photos from your high school and college graduation. You smiled at the pictures, but you remembered that things were not exactly fine in most of them. Now that you could see colors, even though you were not an expert, you could see that the clothes were chosen just by appearance because the colors didn’t match at all. They never could see colors.

“Fucking liars, you couldn’t see shit.” You sniffled, you were crying with all the memories.

You got up from the bed and went downstairs, you didn’t know what made you do that, maybe you were just tired or maybe you weren’t on your right mind. You thought it would take a longer time to find what you were looking for, but like a joke of destiny you soon found what you wanted in that moment. In the end of the stairs Daryl Dixon was standing, and you didn’t know but he was pretty much looking for the same thing as you.

“Can we talk?” You both said and you couldn’t help but smile ironically. That was the first time that Daryl saw you smiling, at least at him. It wasn’t as you giving him a happy smile, but it was one either way. The corner of his mouth quirked a little for a second at the sight of yours.

You walked outside of the compound and sat on a bench. Everything was pitch black, except for where the moonlight hit and Daryl’s lighter lighting up his cigar. There was a long silence between you, apparently both thinking about the best words to say.

“I’m sorry.” You said, the words feeling strange on your tongue. There was a long time you didn’t use this word.

“For wha’?” Daryl asked blowing some smoke.

“Everything, except for not breathing or walking in the correct way.” You didn’t even know what made you decide to talk to him… maybe, you didn’t want to be like them, maybe it was time to stop reproducing their mistakes.

“Look, she got some sense of humor…” he replied at your remark about your breathing and walking. “ ‘m sorry for being an asshole.”

A silence took place again. ‘And what now?’, you thought. Would everything just be rainbows and unicorns between you? You took the pictures from your pocket and handed them to him. He took his lighter from his pocket, cigar hanging from his mouth… he used the fire from the lighter to illuminate the pictures so he could see them.

“Who are those idiots dressin’ like they’re ready for Halloween?” He asked cigar still in his mouth, smoke coming out and his voice hoarse.

“My parents.” You answered, he almost choked with the cigar and the smoke. “Don’t need to feel bad. I thought almost the same thing when I looked at them now that I can see colors.”

“Look at lil ya dressing the same way…” he said looking at the next picture, at least you were an adorable kid.

“They never told me, but I already knew… and now it’s clear as water that they in fact couldn’t see colors.” You looked at the sky, now a little glad that you could see the dark blue color and the brightness of the stars and the moon decorating the sky.

“Why are ya telling me this?” He gave you the pictures back, this conversation wasn’t really going the way he planned it to be, but he also wasn’t expecting you to want to talk with him.

“Part of me not believing on the soulmate thing… was because of this.” You said, and he was still trying to understand what you meant. “And, now that I’m calmer… I see that this attitude of mine, it’s just me being everything I didn’t want to be and repeating the same mistakes of them.”

He didn’t say anything. Maybe waiting for you to finish talking.

“Also, we said a bunch of words today that we can’t take back.” You completed. When you yelled at him asking where he was… that wasn’t you trying to hurt him somehow or talk back, that was a mix of all your story and your feelings throughout the years. While you said all those words, that were young you that had chosen to not believe, but that still pleaded whatever force there was to prove you that you were wrong, that soulmates were real and that he would bring you out of your misery. You hoped for a life totally different from what your parents had, hoped for someone that would complete you, understand you and have a healthy relationship with you, but here you were, doing everything like them since the beginning. “In the end, I’m exactly like them.”

He looked at you swallowing the smoke from his cigar. Indeed you had said many words to each other and there was no going back. He still needed to understand you, and now that you started speaking, he wanted to listen everything.

“Me, outside, killing walkers? That was totally my dad, the only difference is that I was hitting walking corpses and not our furniture. We’re lucky, we don’t have that much furniture.” You said bitterly.

“Did he beat ya or ya mom?” He had to make that question, it triggered a thousand different feelings in him, but he needed to know.

“No, he never did. Talking about it now… it could have been worse.” You deep breathed and closed your eyes for some seconds, just feeling the night breeze and enjoying the silence. “My temper, me provoking you… pushing all your buttons… I probably got it from my mom, not that you made easy for me.”

“ ‘cause that was all ya knew…” he said turning himself to you.

“And everything I didn’t want to be.” You completed and then a random thought crossed your mind. “Can I try? Your cigar.”

“Do ya want one?” He asked taking his pack of cigars from his pocket.

“No, I just wanna try yours. I never smoked, if I don’t like I don’t wanna waste a good cigar that you could smoke.” You answered and then he stretched his arm in your direction offering you the cigar.

You took the cigarette between your fingers and analyzed it before bringing it to your mouth. “Ma old man was a drunk, he used to beat ma big bro and when Merle wasn’t around he started to beat me. Ma mom she died too early, but she didn’t cared much about us too. From what I remember from their relationship they were definitely not soulmates.” You swallowed the smoke and blowed it right after making a face and confirming you didn’t like cigars at all. “Guess… I got much from him too.”

“Well, at least you don’t beat children or women. You’re just an asshole and bad tempered.” You said and right after handed the cigar back to him.

“Was it supposed to make me feel better?” He asked sarcastically bringing the cigarette to his lips.

“I dunno.” You said honestly in fact you did just talked. “It just came out of my mouth.”

“Yeah, things come out of yer mouth pretty easily .” He couldn’t control and let the sassy remark.

“Just as it come from yours…” you replied back. “What did you want to talk?”

“Just wanted to say I’m sorry and offer a truce.” He said, finishing his cigar and throwing it away.

“Sounds good to me.” You answered, a truce sounded just perfect for two people in constant war.

“Wanna go back in the run tomorrow? Maybe this time we’re lucky.”

“I’m in.” You had a good feeling about this, you felt better after having talked to him and the truce that he offered were more than welcome. You didn’t expect much, but peace of mind was already a big step.

Both of you headed inside, agreeing to go early in the morning in the same run you had done that day. You went up the stairs and parted ways in the corridor.

“Good Night, Dixon.”

“Good Night, Y/N.”

[runningupthatvecna]

the law of seat partners

alrighty so ya gurl had a dream about eddie last night and here i am trying to use that to base the following something off of.

part 2 | masterlist

cw/tw: eddie munson being a slightly touchy precious bean. a slight bit of angst. feeling left out/mentions of feeling unwanted if you squint. otherwise, none that i could think of, just my silly brain fluff. if you find something else, please let me know yaaa. no mentions of y/n.

summary: you're going on a high school field trip with your friends. and thankfully, a long haired metalhead is also there to keep you company and ease the pain of being around obnoxious children.

side note: this is literally the first fic thing i've written in literal YEARS (also in English) and first ever time writing for Eddie, so bare with me here, i've gotten quite rusty i guess so i truly apologise if it's rather bad. don't mind me and please reblog/leave me comments if you did enjoy this pure fluff something!

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It was the sunniest May morning the town of Hawkins had ever seen. The bluest sky above the forests and fields, downtown, the infamous trailer park and the parking lot of Hawkins High.

You sighed as you placed your car in parking mode before opening the door and sliding out, just so you could grab your belongings - a rather big bag filled with all sorts of items that you were certain you were going to need for surviving the next week - out from the backseat.

A field trip with students with an age range from bloody twelve to the wise years of nineteen, well, twenty to be specific, was on your agenda in the almost last month of your last year of high school, and thankfully you were not gonna be stuck in some forest next to Lake Superior alone by yourself.

Being forced to exist around screaming twelve year olds who were about to enter puberty was your least favourite part of the whole expedition, which made the presence of your group of best friends so much more valuable.

There was one person whose attendance you'd specifically been hoping for. And yes, of course you and your friends had been talking about the trip months ago so it would be clear who would join in the fun, but with Eddie's tendency to be flaky when it came to decisions like this, one could never be fully sure.

I mean yeah, certainly you were looking forward to spending this week by the lakeside with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and the younger kids in freshmen year, but nothing could make the thought of being stuck with a group of middle schoolers and teachers more bearable than being stuck there with the one guy who you - to put it frankly - had a thing for.

You couldn't really say that you were as close with him as you were with Steve or Robin, you never really spent time with him outside of the group hangouts. But that didn't mean that there was any weird distance between the two of you when the lucky occasion of hanging out did come around.

Eddie Munson was a metalhead. Through and through. Tough exterior, soft baby cow personality but could turn stone cold when necessary. When people tried to shame him for being different, for example.

You were also very certain that his love language was touch, based on the times he would throw his arm around you when casually walking you to your next class or the way he would playfully wrestle Dustin or Lucas in the cafeteria during lunch break to show he didn't hate them.

"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here!"

Max had spotted you in line and apparently didn't feel too much guilt for cutting it just so she could hop on the bus together with you.

You mumbled the same thing back to her, wondering if you were the first or last ones of your party to go through Miss Kelley's check-in.

She greeted the both of you with a toothy smile before she turned her focus onto the sheet with students' names. Your eyes wandered over the rows of seat pairs, and since you had arrived at the parking lot, let's say not late but also not early either, most of them were already filled with loudly chatting kids.

"Hopefully the others saved us a seat", you heard Max say from in front of you. Unlike you, she already had a pre-determined seat buddy. "Oh please, it's obvious that Sinclair kept one for you", you quipped back, silently hoping you could potentially be sitting next to Steve or at least Robin.

And even if Eddie was going to join you, he'd probably be sitting with Chrissy. Or Gareth.

"That might be true, but I'm sure you'll be just fine with where you'll end up."

Max stepped further into the bus after she gave you a wink and a slight grin.

Did she know more than you?

Good boy Steve was rather easy for you to spot. With that amount of hair peeking out above the sea of headrests? No wonder. In fact, most of your friends were already seated further in the back of the one-story bus.

A slight hint of disappointment clouded your brain at the sight of Steve and Robin sharing a seat pair, with Nancy and Jonathan right behind them. Your fear of being the one left out and behind was creeping out from the back of your mind, acting up.

People had always been kind enough to endure you, but no one ever really chose you. Or at least made you feel like you belonged.

Lucas indeed had the seat next to him reserved for Max, to where she continued her strut down the aisle to plop down, while Dustin and Will had agreed to share theirs.

Surprising they made it out of bed this early.

You took a few more steps towards the back of the bus. A wide grinned Erica was seated amongst her friends in the center of the very back row, your eyes scanning the seats until they landed on the wild dark mane of a certain metalhead, who was occupying the pair of seats right behind the stairs down to the back door.

He was practically lying in the window seat. Head resting against the glass, staring out to observe the students who hadn't set foot onto the bus yet. Parents who were lecturing their kids one last time before letting them go.

Was he daydreaming? What could possibly be going on in that pretty head of his?

Your heart jumped and your stomach fluttered when he shifted his gaze to the aisle where you were standing. The widest smile spread over his face at the sight of you, and you hated to admit to yourself that it did not leave you unaffected.

The seat next to him was empty.

It took Eddie a few seconds to remember what his initial plan was. As if something in his brain clicked, as if a bolt of lightning had hit him, he straightened himself and got up.

"Uh hi there. I, uh, kept you a seat if, uh, in case you'd like to sit with me."

Eddie the freak Munson. Had thought of and would be willing to sharing seats for a 10 hour bus ride. With you, of all people?

In the light of the sunlight flooded bus, you could see his cheeks adjusting to the colour of your own. Flushed pink.

And you just couldn't help the wide grin that was pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Now both of you were standing in the aisle facing each other.

"I would love to, Munson."

Quickly you took out the essentials for the journey from your bag: headphones and your walkman, your tape collection that you wouldn't leave the house without, a novel, some water and a tote bag with your carefully selected snacks.

Eddie waited patiently for you to get comfortable, standing there in the aisle in his signature leather jacket and denim dio vest, while leaning against the backrest of his own seat, watching your every move.

Once you swung yourself around into your seat, Eddie plopped down next to you with an equally wide grin plastered across his face while pointing his ringed index finger at the snack bag.

"You know, you're gonna have to share those with me."

You turned your head around to face him, eyebrow raised.

His chocolate brown doe eyes were so so softly looking at you. If you didn't know better they'd melt you on the spot.

"Oh really, do I?"

"Yeah, it's the unspoken yet official law of seat partners, sweetheart."

You chuckled at his silliness and the pet name, the nervousness which you had gotten from the thought of him very obviously thinking of you when it came to the decision of who to sit next to, all gone.

He wanted to be physically close to you.

He wanted to spend that time on the bus around you.

He chose you.

After Steve, Robin and all the others from your group had acknowledged your presence as well with genuine smiles, and the last few kids had found their seats, it was time to leave Hawkins.

The bus hit the highway towards Chicago pretty soon after departure.

Eddie let you sit in the window seat, which eventually led to him conveniently using your shoulder as a pillow. And no, you didn't mind the weight. It was Eddie.

Hell, you were having a hard time keeping yourself from wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.

"Does this also fall under the law of seat partners?", you asked curiously, placing a hand on Eddie's head and slightly scratching his scalp.

The only thing you got in return was a satisfied, sleepy "mhm" and a squeeze and rub of his warm hand over your thigh, but it was enough for your mind to drift off, wondering which other of Eddie's love languages and further details of his ridiculous seat partner law you'd come to discover on this trip.

-----

tagged: my beloved ellen @josephfakingquinn <3

[slakedbyiron]

I'm drunk again but we'll take a crack at it. I couldn't find the post so here's the page again lets analyse

Okay no 1 Francisco and the dojo:

Izzy feels so bad that she can't do what seems to be a really tough spectral move (on the previous page only Spender who is described as Francisco's strongest student can do it properly) at only 6 YEARS OLD she starts crying - and Izzy isn't actually a part of this training session so it implies that even Francisco thinks this is too hard for her to do, and yet she still holds herself to the standard of an adult spectral because that's what Francisco has taught her

He holds her to an unattainably high standard and the one thing she is properly skilled at and proud of (her exceptional connection with spirits and her skills with tools) is belittled by him as weak and cheating. Francisco doesn't accept anything less than an automatic reaction to physical pain as a reason to cry - and even then he still ridicules her, saying "is that all?" as if a child wouldn't cry at being hurt.

He also calls her mother over to deal with her, even though she's a nurse she's incredibly busy and just about to leave for work he feels like it's her issue - presumably Amy feels secure working as much as she does because she believes that Izzy has a strong support system at the dojo, knowing how much she looks up to Francisco and how many people are around to protect her. on the next page he implies it should be her job to look after Izzy at the expense of her career because he's housing them both - despite the fact that her father still lives in town. similar to the way Isabel is treated by him, he holds Amy to a higher standard because Ángel has disappointed him, as if it has anything to do with her.

Despite the fact that Spender is the only person on this page who doesn't actually live in the dojo he's the only one who goes to see if Izzy is alright - the rest spend way more time with Izzy yet seem awkward to borderline disinterested in her pain in the 4th panel - I know she's a young kid but they should have a stronger connection with her. This could be related to how she's literally pitted against adults in the present, whereas in the past it's slightly more theoretical/in her head

That leads us to no 2 Spender and Izzy's relationship:

The penultimate panel I feel shows how close she and Spender are. It implies that he picks her up a lot because she instinctively knows what he's doing even though he turns around without saying anything. In addition the fact that he picks her up presumably also because she says she hurt her foot, so she doesn't have to walk on it - even though banging your foot wouldn't really impede your walking

Also, Spender doesn't even notice how Francisco is treating Izzy this whole page, because he's too wrapped up in seeing if she's okay (the final panel shows he still has his hero worship of Francisco which I'd hope he wouldn't if he realised how terrible he treats her) this is something he still does in the present day but it hinders Izzy because he focuses on "keeping the kids safe" rather than emotionally secure and regulated. It also very literally happens again in chapter 4 when he's worrying with Lucifer about whether he kept the kids safe properly and misses Izzy asking for his help dealing with Francisco.

finally no 3 more on Isabel:

She's too young to have as strong a handle on her emotions as present-day Isabel (read: emotional repression) but she still thinks that this is a weakness to have a completely normal reaction that all kids that young would have to frustration. Isabel is only 6 years old and she's already internalised that emotional pain is insignificant and weak, and that the only 'valid' pain is physical, as shown by her lie. despite this she's still invalidated because the pain wasn't bad enough. Also her kneejerk lying about pain is a trait commonly seen in abused children.

This can be seen to have both the aforementioned emotional implications in current Izzy, as well as physical - she attempts to use plasters to cover a wound that actually needs stitches because she doesn't want her grandfather to know and be disappointed, risking an infection.

I realise half of these are just statements w no conclusions but I hope you can infer what I mean. anyway concluding statement no one looks out for Izzy like they should and also her and Spender's relationship and all of its shortcomings is one of my fav things abt pnat both bc there's so much meat there and bc they're my 2 fav characters