#and that's part of the reason why i appreciate this

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 28

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 27 | Series Masterlist | Part 29

Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.3k

Chapter Summary: You try to process the fallout after meeting with your parents, and you wish to take back some control of your life.

Chapter Warnings: Arguing, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You didn’t argue when Bucky helped you into the car. Your mind kept replaying what had just happened. Bucky defended you in the way he thought best, but he cut your parents off. He did that, not you, and it was starting to sink in just how serious that was.

The ache in your chest only grew. Your parents had carved a part of your heart out and you feared it may never heal correctly. Bucky may not have been the carver, but it felt like he put the tool in their hands. Was that fair? Was it right to think that way?

Your mind and heart felt like a battlefield, your thoughts and emotions at odds, clashing and each trying to come out on top. Destruction laid in the wake frequently when Bucky was involved, but he found a way to build something new out of it. What would he build out of the damage this time? What would rise from the ashes because you were tired of being the one set on fire. You just wanted to bloom gently, quietly. 

“I’m so sorry we didn’t get a chance to eat,” Bucky said remorsefully, his arm tight around you, tethering to him like always. “We’ll stop anywhere you want. We can-”

“Why did you do that?” you asked in a small voice, staring straight ahead into nothingness.

“Why did I do what?” he asked, as if he was blissfully unaware of the fire he set ablaze with his actions. 

You looked at him, but no tears came to your eyes. Hadn’t you cried enough? “You cut my parents off. Why did you do that?”

He didn’t say anything at first. He watched you like he was trying to figure out his next move. The man was always two steps ahead. “I did that for you,” he whispered, keeping his gaze on you when you attempted to look away. “Your parents may have created you, but they didn’t give you the love, support, or anything else you deserved. Why should they be a part of your life when they beat you down instead of building you up?”

Bucky’s words felt heavy, bitter, and truthful. He believed he did the right thing by doing what he did. He was protecting you in the only way he knew how- by taking control and doing things his way. This wasn’t his battle. It wasn’t up to him to deliver the killing blow.

“Because they are still my parents.” Your voice began to rise with your rising anger and his face dropped. “It should have been my choice!”

“I… I don’t understand.” He seemed at a loss, so unlike him. “You thanked me for defending you.”

“Because I do appreciate that you defended me. You said… all the right things,” you said, your voice still too loud in the small space. “But you still took the choice away from me. You’re still controlling the narrative of my life!”

Cutting off anyone whether it was family or friends was a deeply personal and difficult decision. It could take people months or even years to make that decision. It was heartbreaking when it occurred even when it was for the best. The feeling manifested into living grief and you could feel it with each breath. The worst part was that you didn’t get to prepare yourself for it because Bucky suggested lunch and he cut the cord. 

Bucky sighed, but not out of annoyance or anger. “You’re my heart, my very reason for living, and I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said sadly. 

“You want to do the right thing?! ASK ME! That’s what partners do!” You shoved at his chest, trying to put distance between you, but he didn’t budge, ever the unmoveable wall. Of course he wanted your wrath, your fire. Maybe he could burn the way you were burning. “I swear, the moment I think you’re taking a step forward, you take two steps back. You-”

His mouth was on yours, not harsh or persistent. You felt the struggle for him to not push further, knowing he wanted you to want him and take the lead. It was a standstill, daring you to move one way or the other. You didn’t deepen the kiss, but you didn’t pull away either. You just let it be.

Bucky was the one to pull away, his eyes softer than you expected. “You’re so strong, Kotyonok, and I’m holding you so tightly. I’m making you depend on me when I should be letting you stand on your own,” he breathed, the words warm against your skin and coming from the very depth of his soul. “I’ve seen you break and put yourself back together. I selfishly want to be the glue keeping the pieces in place the same way you keep me intact.”

There was a hint of a smile on his face while your lower lip trembled. Why did hearing that hurt so much? “I’m tired of breaking,” you whispered. You had broken more in less than a month than some would in their entire lives. There was being resilient in the pain, but this was overkill and you had paid more than enough dues. 

“Then we’ll learn how to lean on each other the right way,” he said, dragging his lips along your face. Was it that easy? “Teach me how to be the right man for you.”

You pulled back in shock. This was a man who thrived on his world being crafted to his specifications. Did he really want you to have that level of control or was he telling you what you wanted to hear? “Well, being the right man, you wouldn’t have moved me in so soon, so we can’t exactly go back and undo that.”

He chuckled, warm and low. “No, we can’t, but we can go forward.”

“Forward,” you whispered. It was the only way to go.

He brought his mouth to your ear. “And I’m sorry about your parents, but maybe now they’ll think about what they’ve done.”

You had no doubt Bucky’s vitriol would be on their minds and maybe they’d feel guilt, but you didn’t know what that meant for your future with them. And would Bucky think of his own actions? Only time would tell. 

You didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride, even when Bucky stopped to get some food. You went straight to the library with your meal once you got back to the penthouse. Bucky couldn’t hide the hurt on his face that you chose not to eat with him, but you needed space after what went down at lunch and you urged him to make some calls or do some work to distract him. It may have felt like a punishment in his eyes, but that wasn’t the case. It was a respectable boundary after something upset you.

“These brownies really are delicious,” Curtis called out.

You giggled. Poor Curtis had pulled up a chair and sat right outside of the library while you ate and relaxed. While you did trust that Bucky would respect the rule that he wouldn’t go into the library, your bodyguard was taking his role very seriously. “I’m glad you like them.”

“I’m sure Ray will thank you personally once you leave that room.”

You pushed the last bite of food around on your plate. Ray hadn’t said anything after that disastrous lunch, but you saw a bit of sorrow in his eyes. “Did you hear the conversation at the restaurant?”

“You mean did I hear Bucky ripping your parents a new asshole? Yeah, I heard it,” he confirmed. 

You sighed. If Curtis heard, you were sure Ray heard, too, which would explain why he looked at you the way he did. Would you ever have real privacy? “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you made them shitty parents and you didn’t make Bucky say what he did. They made their choices and you were caught in the storm,” he said, voice even and not judgemental. He was speaking on the facts presented to him, and you appreciated that.

You didn't voice how much it hurt that your parents hadn't texted after you left, but what did you expect?

“Because you shouldn’t have had to hear that. Those feelings, even if they aren’t yours, shouldn’t be your burden to carry.” You moved a little closer to the door. “Do you think I’m in the wrong for being upset?”

You weren’t asking to get Curtis into any kind of trouble. Bucky was his boss, but he was your bodyguard now and you wanted his opinion. He was also different from the others. He wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear or blindly defend Bucky.

And you did feel that you had the right to be upset because your voice was taken away, but you were also relieved in a way. Bucky stood up for you the way no one else ever had, but the dice were loaded. It was always meant to end in his favor. 

You heard Curtis sigh from where you stood. “When someone forces you into a cage or a box, it can lead to a lot of things. Anger, resentment, pain. Some fight back and others… adapt,” he said quietly. He sounded like he knew from experience. “I think you’re a mix of those. You’re fighting and adapting to your new world,” he continued. Was that really what he thought? “So are you wrong for being upset? No. I think you’re extremely human in your response because you want to be the one with your hands on the wheel.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, but they faded quickly. Curtis understood that you wanted to be the driver in your life, not the passenger. “You’re very observant, Curtis. You’re also an anomaly, in a good way.”

Where had the man come from?

“I could say you’re an anomaly, too. You don’t let darkness taint you. You find a way to be the light within it,” he said, surprising you with his softness and bringing a small smile to your face. “So, how much longer are you going to stay there and avoid Bucky?”

“I’m not avoiding Bucky,” you said quickly.

Curtis laughed at you. “Please. You’re in the one room you know he can’t go in,” he pointed out. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “And I admire that. Not many have the balls to shut him out, but you’ve done it more than once now.”

Guilt churned in your stomach before you pushed it away. You didn’t do anything wrong. “I’m not trying to shut him out. I just needed the space,” you said. Surely Bucky and Curtis could understand that after all the shit you went through.

“I get that,” he said, waiting for a beat before he added, “But may I offer some advice?”

“Sure,” you replied, bracing yourself for whatever he had to say.

“You have every right to use this space as your own because you deserve it, but don’t use it as a crutch,” he said carefully, likely not wanting to hurt your feelings.

Frustration bubbled within you before it faded as fast as it came. “So, you think I shouldn’t use this space when I’m upset?”

“I think you should carefully weigh out the options. If you’re really trying to build something with Bucky, you should use this space when you have to. Because the second you enter this room, you’re drawing a line that he can’t cross and he’s already losing whatever battle you’re waging,” he answered. You exhaled, wondering if Bucky viewed it the same way. “But believe me when I say there are some fights he’s meant to lose, and that’s when you should allow yourself to use the space and win.”

You found yourself smiling. His words made you think of Natasha. They didn’t outright fight Bucky to get you out of this, but they tried to help you adjust as they could. “You’re telling me to choose my battles wisely.”

“And don’t lose who you are at your core,” he said.

You considered his words as you lightly paced in the library. “But being here isn’t just about winning battles. It’s about taking back my control,” you explained. You had the right to dictate your life and actions even if it was Bucky’s world you were living in.

“So, take it back,” he said, making you scoff. It wasn’t that simple. “This may be the one room he can’t go in, but it doesn’t mean there can’t be other ground rules.”

“You really think he’ll let me change the rules?” you asked. Bucky was the one who made them and the man was stubborn to a fault.

“Some rules are meant to be broken. Others… they’re meant to be rewritten.”

You hadn’t expected to have such a deep conversation with Curtis after that disastrous lunch, but you couldn’t say you were upset about it. “I don’t know if I’m a rule breaker,” you admitted, walking toward the door so you could lean out and look at him. “But I think I can rewrite them.”

Warmth filled his blue eyes. “Whether you break or rewrite them, I have your back.”

You believed him.

“Sounds like you two are getting along well.”

You stuck your head out more and saw Bucky at the end of the hall. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and that smile fell when he looked at Curtis. Your bodyguard didn’t cower or flinch when he said, “Just doing my job.”

Bucky tilted his head. “Are you?” he asked like a whisper in the wind, threatening to build into a dangerous storm.

“He is,” you said, stepping into the hall. You had to keep Bucky’s jealousy in check. He couldn’t get upset if a man spoke to you. “He gave me some things to think about.”

Bucky strode toward you, but stopped before he could reach out and touch you. “You’re still upset with me,” he stated. 

You didn’t deny that. The pangs in your chest still felt raw and new. “You really want me to teach you how to be the man I need?” 

“Yes,” he said, the word fragile between you. 

“Good,” you said, taking your phone out and sending a message to the girls. “I want to go to your club tonight with my friends.”

Mourning sometimes called for celebration. The winery trip with your friends hadn’t ended on a high note. Tonight would be different. You would have time with them, and you would have fun. You were determined. 

Because your friends were still your family through and through. 

Bucky spared Curtis a glance, surprise on both of their faces. “You want to go to our club?” Bucky questioned. 

Your head snapped up, a strange feeling washing over you. You hadn’t thought about the club ever being yours. It was his domain, his world… that you were the queen in. What was his would be yours. 

You nodded slowly. “I do. VIP section. My friends and I. We’ll consider it an additional bachelorette party for Addison. Or you can consider me accepting that I’m the queen of the club now. Your choice,” you explained.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. While he looked happy at the idea of you going, he seemed apprehensive, too. Maybe he should feel that way. “Are you sure you want to go so soon after-”

“What happened? Yes. It’s my life. My decision,” you said. You were still healing and recovering, and you would do it how you saw fit. And while you still didn’t know where Clark was, you knew you wouldn’t ever see him again. “I’m going to have a drink with my friends and I’m going to dance and enjoy their company. And do you know what you are going to do?”

He swallowed, a nervous look crossing his face only for a moment. It was so quick you almost missed it. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to watch. You’re not going to sway my friends or charm them. You’re not going to interfere with our fun in any way, shape, or form,” you ordered, the way he ordered so many people around in his life. 

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t when you narrowed your eyes. “If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice tight. 

“That's what I want.” You stepped closer and smiled, almost forgetting for a second that Curtis was within earshot. “I’m going to wear something sexy, something you’ll want to take off me,” you promised. Whatever you wore, you’d make sure you turned heads. “Something that may make you want to kill others just for looking at me,” you softly said, running a finger down his chest and making him tremble. “For what you think belongs to you.”

“Kotyonok,” he said through his teeth. His control was on the verge of snapping, but you didn’t care.

“You’ll watch me be your queen ruling over our kingdom and you’ll only join me when and if I allow it. Because the man I need? He knows when to stay in the shadows and will trust that I will call him into the light when I need him by my side,” you said, your lips a breath away from his. “Just like when I called you to save me.”

You trusted him to save you from Clark, but he hadn’t trusted you enough today to fight the battle with your parents. Or maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It was simply that he thought his way was the only way. He was going to learn.

He took your choice away today even if he hadn’t meant to, even if he was doing what he thought was best. That wouldn’t happen tonight. You wouldn’t allow it. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you dance with me. Maybe I’ll let you put your hands on me. Let you touch what you so desperately want to touch,” you breathed, watching his pupils dilate before you stepped back. “But if you come to me without me giving you explicit permission, you’ll have proven that I really don’t have any control or say and that bridge won’t be easy to mend. Do I make myself clear?”

Your heart pounded in your ears when Bucky stared you down, locked in a silent battle of wills. You hoped you weren't biting off more than you could chew, but you weren't backing down and you had to try. Didn't you owe yourself that?

Bucky smiled from ear to ear like you gave him a gift. Did he just let you win? “See? You're so fucking strong.” It was nice to hear, and you had to believe it within yourself. “And your orders are crystal clear. I’ll behave.”

You couldn't celebrate this victory, not until the night played out. “I guess we’ll see.” You shifted your gaze to Curtis and expected him to look uncomfortable, but he looked impressed. “I’m sorry, Curtis. I know you aren’t a fan of the club.”

“Where you go, I go,” he said easily. 

You offered him a smile, appreciating the loyalty you felt you hadn’t earned. “Now, I'm going to have a nice long bath and then I'm going to get ready,” you announced, brushing past Bucky with a smirk. 

You were playing with fire, but Bucky wouldn't hold the matches tonight. You would be the one in control. And if he really wanted to be your king, he’d let you rewrite the rules as the queen you were. 

We're going back to the club! Is Kotyonok playing with fire? Is Bucky going to behave or will a line be crossed? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yumeka-sxf]

You know we finally have a Twiyor chapter when I immediately start writing an analysis post 😅

First off, for those of you who read my thoughts on the last chapter, I feel like I kinda predicted what this one was going to be about 👀 (snippet below)

Yor wanting to know Loid's true feelings about the whole marriage arrangement makes the most sense at this point in the story. She already knows how she feels about it - not just in past chapters but she flat out says in this chapter that she wants the marriage to continue forever (and not for the cover-up reasons). And Loid has told her that Anya loves her as a mother...but what about his feelings? When they last had a similar conversation on the park bench, Loid had said that he would like her to continue playing the role of his wife. That was enough for Yor at the time since she simply wanted to know that Loid had no intention of replacing her with Fiona as his wife. But this time is different. She already knows he's fine with her playing the role of his wife and Anya's mother...but is that all he sees in the relationship?

We also have to remember that, unlike Loid, Yor doesn't have to hide her true personality/feelings. Loid has to do this because being cold and calculating makes for a good spy. But while Yor has to keep her identity as Thorn Princess a secret, she doesn't have to create a fake persona for herself or suppress her true feelings. Because of this, we've seen her feelings progress throughout the series: she started out robotic but quickly grew to love the Forgers, eventually realizing in the post-bar date and cooking lesson chapters how happy the family made her, and then resolving to keep fighting to protect them in the cruise arc. This is why she no longer has to visit the "quiet spot" anymore - she used to go there and watch people passing by to remind herself that this is what she's protecting (her country, as part of Garden). But now she doesn't have to because, as she said, being with the Forgers is what's most important to her and gives her all the resolve she needs to continue her Garden work.

Now she's at a point where she acknowledges these feelings but doesn't know what hope there is to hold onto if Loid doesn't reciprocate. If, after all this time, he still only sees her as "the role of his wife" then that indicates their marriage probably won't last. This is why she begins the conversation with asking him how long the marriage will continue.

Looking at Loid's character development in comparison to Yor's, it's obvious that, outside his realization at the end of the mole hunt arc that he's slipping up slightly, he has no understanding of his true feelings or the feelings of those closest to him. He still sees everything from a spy perspective and assumes that, like him, other people always have ulterior motives and he needs to just focus on how things can benefit his mission.

Even when he finally realizes that Yor is trying to tell him that she wants to continue the marriage, the concept of her falling in love with him doesn't occur to him at all. He just assumes her reason is the same as before - keeping the cover-up going, just like him. Interestingly, romantic feelings did occur to him back at their bar date, but then he pushed that thought aside by misinterpreting her kick as a rejection.

Whether that's the reason he's still assuming even now that she couldn't possibly have feelings for him, or whether it's a defense mechanism for himself so he doesn't have to confront such complicated feelings, is hard to say. But it's clear that Loid is one of those people who's amazingly talented and smart when it comes to his job, but is a total idiot when it comes to other things like understanding and sensing human emotions 😅 Even when she directly asks him how he feels about the marriage, he just says he'd appreciate it. His cluelessness is even more apparent in the Japanese version, where a more literal translation of his reply is "that would be helpful to me, too."

But wow, what a bittersweet ending to this chapter. It's still a bit ambiguous whether this arc will continue next time, but I feel like it might considering that Yor's coworkers now think that she's cheating! But whether that will be addressed directly in the next chapter, or whether it will be like Anya's confession to Damian and be saved for later, has yet to be seen. Either way, now that Yor thinks Loid may not have any deeper feelings for her besides their original contract, I wonder how this will change their dynamic going forward?

[quasi-normalcy]

I feel like network executives and comic publishers and the like don't really appreciate the extent to which, for people who are inclined to become fans of science fiction and fantasy, the lore is a large part of the appeal. This is one of the reasons why I think trying to simplify or ignore continuity is often counterproductive, and also why Lower Decks seems to have dragged more people into Star Trek fandom than any other recent series; because the more lore that there is, the more time you can spend in the world, the more you have to talk about with other fans, etc. The trick isn't to simplify it, the trick is to give the new or casual fan enough information for a story to remain compelling, while perhaps teasing them with the rest.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

BUT NEVER AGAIN

PAIRING : beau arlen x younger fem!reader

SUMMARY : beau sees reader for the first time since he disowned her, on their anniversary of all days, and she isn’t alone.

WARNINGS : age gap. strong language. angst. fluff. smut. unprotected p in v. rough sex. pregnancy sex. makeup sex. semi-pubic sex. creampie. cockwarming. dom!beau. sub!reader. pregnant!reader. daddy!kink (if you squint). size kink. maiesiophilia. physical altercation. jealous!beau. slightly corrupt!sheriff.

A/N : just wanna start off with i’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to take as long as it did. i have plenty of valid reasons as to why but the cutest one was each time i opened my laptop to write, my cat would hear and wander over to lay on the keyboard and my lap, refusing to get up. and if i dared try moving him, he’d bite me then go back to cuddling. anyways, i hope y’all enjoy the final part of this mini-series! (kind) thoughts are always appreciated.

You couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be happening. It had to have been a mistake. Why would God ever play such a cruel joke on you? After everything you’ve gone through with Beau, this was the last thing you needed. The irony was evident: You wanted nothing to do with your ex, and now you were pregnant with his child.

Fucking shit. You were filled with a mix of emotions: happy, sad, panic, excitement, to name a few. You dreamt of having Beau’s children. Who wouldn’t? He was a great man and, as far as you could tell, a great father. With everything going on, you weren’t sure what to do, but if one thing was certain, you were keeping it.

The problem wasn’t questioning what you’d do with your offspring’s life. No, the issue was your indecisiveness about whether to tell Beau or not. After all, he made his choice. He was ashamed and disowned you, so why would he want a pregnant you? Would you really give him a chance to disown your baby too?

But would he? Would he really want nothing to do with you or the product of love that was growing inside you? Or what if you told him and he only wanted you because of the baby? Too many thoughts were running through your head, making you dizzy. You gripped the bathroom countertop and closed your eyes, inhaling a deep breath.

I just need a sign, you thought. Any sign that tells me if I should tell Beau. Suddenly, your phone rang, causing you to jump in surprise. You looked at the device and your heart quickened with rage. It was your ex-cowboy—your sign. Fuck that!

You had hit the end call button, refusing to speak with him. Really, God? So not funny! You weren’t amused at the sign He sent you, and you weren’t going to listen either. Maybe that was your sign. Knowing how you truly felt when the opportunity to tell the sheriff arose.

After throwing the test in the trash, you walked to your bedroom. This can’t be happening. You climbed into bed and wrapped your body with your duvet, wishing, deep down, it was Beau’s warm embrace. The room was pitch black, the perfect setting to fall into a peaceful slumber, but you couldn’t sleep. No, the news of your unborn baby kept you up. You just wanted to talk to someone, and you hated that that someone happened to be Beau.

A week had passed, but not a moment when Beau didn’t try to win you back, and you certainly didn’t make it easy. You refused to answer his calls or texts, not that he blamed you. So, every morning since his conversation with Emily, he stopped by your work, hoping to get a chance to see you. When he didn’t, which was no surprise, he’d leave your favorite meal, and the most gorgeous roses the florist had to offer with one of your coworkers, instructing that they pass them along. Each bouquet came with a handwritten note, and despite your many warnings, you couldn’t resist reading each and every one.

I’m so sorry, princess. I was stupid and an idiot—a stupid idiot. Please forgive me.

Sweetheart, please call me.

I’m not giving you up, darlin’.

I’ll make it up to you. I’m gonna make this right. For us. I promise.

There’ll never be a moment when you’re not on my mind, sweetpea. I need you more and more.

I love & miss you more than you know, angel.

I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on you. Happy Anniversary, beautiful.

If he hadn’t disowned you, his attempts would’ve worked. Your heart wanted to let him in, but you knew better since he broke the very thing you told him not to. It was hard getting over a man like Beau, though you had no choice but to. For weeks, you were a complete wreck over him. However, as time passed, you began to heal. That was until the shock of your pregnancy.

Every reminder of him made your decision harder and harder. You so desperately wanted to tell Beau the truth. There were signs everywhere but you were too damn stubborn to listen. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, and you prayed it was the latter. But as your luck would have it, it was the former.

It was your anniversary, or what would’ve been if you were still together. Your heart was heavy and your body was weak, but you couldn’t call in to work again, especially when you had to train the new hire. So, on the rarest of warm days in early Spring, you put on your favorite summer dress, one you won’t admit was also Beau’s favorite. It was long & flowy, hugging you in just the right places while showing a tasteful amount of cleavage. If you were going to move on from the sheriff, you needed to enjoy the day instead of wallowing in it, and if putting on a nice dress helped, then so be it.

It was almost half past noon meaning your lunch break was coming up; Beau knew it like clockwork. Deciding to get out of the office, you asked Wren, the new associate, if he wanted to accompany you. He was new to town and didn’t know any good spots so you thought you’d be nice. He happily agreed, so you drove to your favorite brunch spot. The only downside was that it was down the street from Dewell & Hoyt Private Investigations, a place your ex-cowboy frequently visited.

Sure, it was risky but you had to rise above. And what were the chances that he happened to be on that side of town as you were? Being the Sheriff, he had more important things going on than keeping his eyes peeled for you everywhere he went...or so you thought. Beau jogs out of their office the second he catches a glimpse of your vehicle. His heart skips a beat as you and Wren exit your vehicle, and he can’t tell if it’s because it’s the first time he’s seen you in three weeks, or if it’s because some man, closer in age, is with you.

He knew this day might come but not this soon. Not when he hasn’t shown you that he’s changed. Not when your last memory of him is heartbreaking. Not while his heart still beat for you. You walk toward the diner and the cowboy’s feet move faster than they ever have before. As if it were slow motion, Wren begins to pull the door open just as Beau’s large hand wraps around your arm.

Instinctively, you pull out of the grasp before you even turn to see that it’s him. And when you do, your eyes widen in surprise. The very possibility of bumping into him materialized before you, and yet, here he stands—unexpected and undeniable. The father of your child. Fuck!

You take a few steps back, baffled that he had the nerve to touch you. “Sweetheart—”

“No. We’re not doing this.”

“Please, darlin’, I need to talk to you.”

His hand goes for yours but you move it away. “Damn it, Beau. No! I don’t want to hear it. Just go on somewhere.”

“But, Y/N, I—” He moves closer, eyes filled with so much emotion you could melt.

Wren steps in between you, unfamiliar with the situation yet brave enough to do so. Intrepidly, he reminds your ex, “Hey, man. She said she doesn’t want to talk.”

Beau’s attention shifts to the man before him, brows drawn together and eyes darker. “Excuse me?”

“You heard her: Leave her alone.”

The cowboy scoffs, amused by the pair the stranger seemed to have. Who the fuck does he think he is? He thought. “Listen, buddy, it’s best you just stay the hell out of our business.”

“I will when you walk away.”

Your ex takes a step closer, a daring look in his eyes. You know that look, and it’s dangerous. As your heart increases rapidly, you move around Wren and try adding distance between the two, but neither man moves.

“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s just go inside.” You encourage your associate.

Beau’s forehead wrinkles. He’s determined to tell you that he came clean to Emily. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”

His hand reaches toward your waist but Wren stops the Sheriff before he can make contact. The younger man shoves Johnny Law, warning him not to touch you. Beau stumbles back, completely caught off guard. An audible gasp leaves your lips; You hadn’t expected the escalation.

Your ex’s once chartreuse eyes turn to a forest green. He steps forward and Wren shoves him again, telling him something neither of you hears. His nostrils flare with rage and you can see the logic and law slip from his mind. Oh, shit... Before you can say a word, you witness Beau’s fist collide with his opponent’s jaw.

The impact makes an audible sound, one you feel in your bones. Wren’s body twists in the direction he was punched, nearly falling from the hard blow. With his balance compromised, he teeters back and forth, surely fighting unconsciousness and you’re shocked it wasn’t a swift knockout. He was a tall and lean male, just taller than your child’s father with a similar build. If you weren’t so hung up on your cowboy you would see how handsome Wren really was.

“You fucker,” The young man spits, swaying slightly.

He lunges forward and tackles the sheriff, nearly taking you down with them. You leap out of the way, fear coursing through your body at the possibility of your baby getting hurt. They wrestle on the ground while you stand back, watching with panicked eyes. Wren delivers a sucker punch to your ex’s cheek and though he deserves it—Lord knows as much—you can’t bear to see Beau hurt.

“Stop it!” You frantically cry.

The cowboy grabs the civilian and flips them over so he’s on top. He’s quick to strike the guy’s pretty face, again and again. Wren grunts in pain and it shatters your heart. You can tell he’s surprised at Beau’s strength as he struggles to break free of his hold. Though you’re terrified to get hit, you refuse to let the fight continue.

“Beau!” You run over and see your associate’s swollen and bloody face. “Beau, stop!” It’s risky but you try catching his flailing arm. “Get off of him!”

Whether it’s the growing crowd or your helpless tugs, maybe even both, Beau ceases the abuse. He rises from the beaten man, panting heavily. He reaches for his cuffs, shouting at Wren to turn over. The sun shines on the brass clipped to the sheriff’s belt and reflects into Wren’s eyes. He sees the badge and immediately curses to himself, knowing he was fucked.

“Now!”

“Okay, okay.” He lifts his hands in surrender and does as he’s told.

Beau immediately wraps Wren’s wrists and with ease, yanks him up from the ground. This isn’t right, you thought. He didn’t know. He was just trying to help me. Your ex escorts the new worker to his vehicle and you follow closely behind.

“Let him go!” You demand. “He didn’t know any better.”

“Sweetheart, stay outta this,” Beau warns sternly.

“No, this is my business, too!”

“We’ll talk later.”

“The hell we are—let him go!”

He opens the rear passenger door and damn near shoves the ‘criminal’ in. The cowboy walks around the front of his Defender and hops into the driver’s seat. You pound on his door, loudly insisting that he free your coworker. Instead, he starts his vehicle and tries his hardest to pay you no mind. He’s almost convinced to let the guy go on your behalf, but he just can’t. So, he speeds off.

You rush to your car, and as soon as you get in, you scream. You scream because of his fight with Wren. You scream because luck was never on your side. You scream because of all the days to see your ex, it had to be on your anniversary. You scream because you’re pregnant with his child. You scream because you realize how much you aren’t over him. You scream because you know if you don’t, you’ll cry.

With a deep breath, you race to the station. By the time you get there Wren’s in lockup, and Beau’s in his office. You aren’t sure if it’s your natural rage or the added hormones but your body was on fire and everyone you passed could see it too. The workers within the station come to a halt, seeing you beeline straight to the Sheriff to unleash some much-deserved wrath. However, one individual makes the mistake of stepping out in front of you.

“He’s busy right now. You’ll have to come back another time,” says Sargent Crowders.

“Fuck off, Madge.” You order and storm past her.

He heard you as soon as you entered the station, your heels clattering angrily against the tile floor. He knew he was in for it but he was ready. Or at least he thought so. He discarded his jacket on the back of his chair, the heat from his anger causing him to shed it. Too upset to sit at his desk, he stood as he waited for the background check on Wren to come through and for you.

“Let him out now!” You command the moment you enter his office.

“‘Can’t.”

“Like hell, you can’t! You’re the sheriff, or did you forget when you were beating the shit out of that poor man?”

He walks past you and calls from the doorframe, “Everybody, leave.”

“But, boss—” Poppernak begins but Beau interrupts.

“NOW!” His voice makes you flinch unexpectedly. You had never heard his voice reach that octave before. “All of you, get the hell out. And be back in 20.”

Everyone shuffles to the front doors, leaving you two alone. He walks back in and silently closes both doors to his space. He shuts each blind before hitting his mark beside his chair. His eyes are the same darkened color as they were earlier. You wait for him to speak before you counter.

“You know I respect you—”

“Oh, please!”

“But I would never tell you how to do your job so don’t tell me how to do mine.”

He had a fair point but you were too prideful and stubborn to admit it.

“He was just protecting me.”

“From who? Me?” He asks, his voice growing louder. “You know I would never hurt you.”

You scoff and the sound hits him right in the chest. “I’ve heard that lie before.”

“It isn't a lie.”

“Right..so tell me why we aren’t celebrating our eight-month anniversary again.”

He shakes his head in disgust at his regrettable actions. “Because I’m stupid.”

“That’s one word for it,” you murmur.

“I made a horrible mistake. Hell, mistakes, and there will never be enough apologies to reflect how sorry I am but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You roll your eyes but it strikes your heart. Damn it, Y/N, get it together.

“Don’t bother. I’m done giving you chances. After you kicked me out then pretended not to know me!” The memories are still fresh and it hits you harder today. “You deserve to have your ass handed to you.”

“You’re right.” He admits. “But you know I can’t let him go. He assaulted a sheriff.”

“You’re the one who threw the first punch! And plenty after. You’re supposed to be the sheriff and you abused your power. You could lose your job!”

He sighs in defeat. You’re right. This hadn’t been the first time he’d roughed someone up but it was the first time he’d had witnesses. He could lose his new permanent position. After he convinced Carla to stay in Montana with Emily, he accepted the offer and then met you.

“That’s…something I’ll have to deal with later but right now, all I want to do is talk to you.”

“We have nothing else to talk about unless it’s regarding Wren walking out of here today.”

He glances at the floor, a sly smirk involuntarily tugging at the corner of his mouth before licking his lips to mask it. His eyes lift from the ground and focus on you. God, she's so stubborn. He pauses, thinking it over. He knows he shouldn’t but he’ll do anything to repair your relationship. So, if that meant bending the rules and releasing the man who attacked him then so be it. Though envy influenced his actions, he knew he was wrong. He shouldn’t have reacted the way he did towards the young man.

“I’ll make you a deal,” He piques your interest, but you remain wary. “I’ll let him go after we talk.”

You hesitate but agree. “Fine. Talk.”

“Do you want to sit?” He offers you his large, comfortable chair, but you decline.

“No, I’m good here.”

“Okay,” He clears his throat, suddenly nervous despite his consistent daydreams about this very moment. “I know it’s probably too late, but I told Emily and Carla about you. About us.”

Your heart dares to jump excitedly, but your brain frowns against it. Did he expect you to applaud? Did he want a medal for doing what every boyfriend should’ve done from the start? For once, he’s right: It’s too late. But was it? Deep down, you don’t want it to be, especially with your growing fetus.

“And?”

“And I was foolish. It was all in my head, and to an extent, you were right. I was ashamed; Not of you, but of our age difference. I was scared I’d risk losing Emily when I should’ve thought of you, too. I know a daughter and an ex-wife wasn’t something you signed up for, and part of that turned into fear, that one day you’d wake up and realize you didn’t want me anymore.

“What if you want things I might not be able to give you? Hell, I don’t even know if I can produce any more kids. And I’m only getting older. What if that’s something that affects our decision to marry? To buy a house and live together. I was scared that if you had met the girls, you’d break Emily’s heart if you chose to leave. Most of all, I was scared I wasn’t good enough for you. And after all I’ve done to hurt you, I realized you’re better off without me. Lord knows I don’t want to lose you, but if moving on is what you need...well, I’ll love you even if you can’t ever love me again.”

You’re left speechless. All the anger, all the words, the hurt, and betrayal, suddenly fly out the window. You should be upset that your fire’s been extinguished by his honest and powerful words. Part of yourself curses your ability to be easily swooned. You stare into his precious green orbs, and a thought occurs: I hope our baby has his eyes. And you realize you’ve found your sign.

With a neutral face, you walk toward your cowboy and he swallows nervously. He isn’t sure what you’re going to do. It’s cute—satisfying even—that you make him so vulnerable. You halt before him, your eyes searching his for any sign of lies. When you can’t find any, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him toward you.

Your lips gently meet his, moving in a soft yet firm dance. His shock paralyzes him for a moment; He didn’t expect this. Without wasting another beat, he kisses you back. All those weeks apart, all the pain, ignites a familiar spark. With much regret, you break away. He stares into your doe eyes, falling even deeper in love.

“I’ve never stopped.” A smile spreads on his handsome face, and you fear you’ll wipe it off after you come clean. All right, now or never. “About the concern of your reproduction...I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

His brows furrow. I don’t get...Wait. Is she saying what I think she’s saying? Is she..? You see the wheels turn in his beautiful head. So, with a grin upon your pretty face, you confirm his suspicion.

“I’m pregnant.”

The air in his lungs vanishes as if he had been struck hard in the gut. His mind races, and so does his heart. He hadn’t expected this news, maybe ever again but here you were, the love of his life, telling him you’re pregnant with his unborn child. He stands frozen again, making you worry just slightly.

Oh, no. He’s upset. He doesn’t want any more babies, your mind automatically assumes. Suddenly, he breaks free from the block of ice and wraps his arms around you. He sweeps you off the ground, spinning you joyfully in a whirl of laughter, his delight infectious as you both revel in the moment.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s the best news I’ve heard since Carla told me about Emily.” He puts you down, grabs your arms loosely, and looks at your small belly. “How are you feeling? Have you gone to the OB yet? How far along are you?”

“I’m fine. I’ll see them in a few days to find out. Wanna come with?”

“Are you kidding? I’ll be at every appointment.”

His large hand cups your cheek and he stares into your eyes. Oh, how he’s missed you. You lean into his touch, missing him just as much. Now that he has you again, he isn’t letting you go. So, he sets his lips on yours and takes his sweet time, enamored by the way your mouth responds to his.

He pulls you in closer, pressing your body against his. His right hand rests on your lower back, but as your kisses get deeper, he glides it over the curve of your bottom. His left slips into your hair and cradles the back of your neck while his other hand squeezes your plump cheek; A move he often made when he wanted more. You aren’t opposed. Hell, you thought about calling him a few times over your break just so he could fuck you.

He spins you around, shoving his chair away, and backs you into his messy desk, your thighs leaning against the edge. You know he wants you just as much as you want him. The butterflies migrate to your fanny, begging to be set free by the only key you’ll ever allow to enter your keyhole again. He attacks your neck, kissing, licking, and biting just how you like it. You can’t help the moans falling from your swollen lips but they only spur him further.

The Sheriff kisses the top of your breasts, his beard hair tickling your skin. You want to laugh being as ticklish as you are but the moment he pulls down your strap, the support for your chest falling with it, and takes your sensitive nipple into his warm mouth, you melt. His expert tongue swirls around it, and when his teeth sink in, your body shivers. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his head, and your fingers tug on his perfect hair. The hand perched on your ass moves past your hip, down to the back of your knee, and pulls your leg toward his waist. His free arm wraps around your back, holding you steady. He gingerly sucks your growing boobs, and you can feel the bruises forming.

“Fuck, princess, I want you so bad,” His husky voice murmurs against your chest. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

You whimper at his words. The hold he has over you is so unhealthy. What can you say, you were a sucker for that cowboy. The pool between your legs begs to be swum in, and you know from experience that he’s an excellent swimmer. So, who are you to deny the wants and needs of your body?

“Fine,” you cave. “But don’t think I’ve forgiven you just yet.”

“‘Course not. I’ll happily spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”

“Your life,” you joke, lifting the mood.

He chuckles, the crow’s feet around his eyes making their dashing appearance. “Yes. My life. Thank you for reminding me how much older I am.”

You gently hold his head, guiding it closer to yours, to place a soft, tender kiss on the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. The warmth of your lips lingers there, evoking a shiver of pleasure that travels through him. He groans, desperate for more. “You’ll feel young again when you’re chasing our kid around our house.”

He smiles widely at the imagery. “‘Can’t wait.”

“But for now, I need you inside my guts.”

His dick twitches at your request and the tug your teeth deliver to his earlob. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”

You unhook your leg from around his hip so he can kneel before you. He lifts your dress and you take the fabric from his hands, keeping it out of his way. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your drenched panties and he slowly peels them down your legs. You bite your lip in anticipation; He knew you hated taking things slow. When you wanted him, you wanted him right away, with no time to waste.

His lecherous eyes linger on your glistening folds, desperately wanting to devour you, but his need to be in you is stronger. The moment you step out of the soaked underwear, his mouth trails wet kisses up your thighs. Your fingers clutch the strands of his long hair as his lips travel over your hip. When they brush over your abdomen you gaze down at your boyfriend. He presses a light peck to your bump before warning the small fetus.

“‘Sorry, kid. Daddy’s gonna love on Mommy for a bit. ‘Better hold on tight.”

You giggle softly, but the sound quickly fades as he stands before you. A single glance into his deep, intense eyes sends a wave of eros throughout your warm body, leaving you utterly captivated. He holds your gaze, drawing you into a hypnotic trance, and without a second thought, you find yourself reaching for his collar, yanking him close to you. The world around you blurs, and the kisses that follow are urgent and passionate, filled with a raw intensity that makes them feel rushed and almost chaotic, but thrilling all the same. You aren’t sure if it’s the hormones or the desperate longing you’ve had since he was last between your legs but you’ve never wanted him more than in this moment.

Your fingers fly to his button-up and you swiftly undo each one before running your hands up and down his smooth and chiseled chest. Oh, how you missed him, all of him. They move to his Longhorn buckle, unfastening it with ease before reaching for his badge. You yank off his heavy belt and blindly toss both on the leather chair. His tongue explores your mouth as you unzip his jeans, your bodies grow hotter by the second, the anticipation nearly overwhelming.

You shove his pants down, liberating his well-endowed cock from its restraints. Beau reaches behind you and pushes the clutter aside, making room for you on his desk. He leans you back, your legs immediately wrapping around his hips. You break the kiss with a pathetic whimper as his hardened member skims along your inner thigh. He slithers his hand between you and grabs hold of his enlarged gourd. He rubs it through your wet folds, lathering his dick in your juice. Before you have a chance to vocalize your impatience, he aligns himself with your pulsing entrance. Your heels dig into the dimples at the bottom of his spine, urging him in.

Beau presses his swollen tip into your small hole and your breath hitches. He moves forward but your body rejects him. It’s been weeks since he last stretched you out, reverting to how it was before him. His brows pinch together, watching as your body refuses his thick limb. He thrusts again, this time sliding in further.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight,” He huffs as he forces himself deeper.

“Mhmmm...”

You couldn’t talk. Not just because it hurt too much to speak but because you felt all the pleasure that also came with it. He tells you to relax and you try your hardest. You can’t help yourself; It hurts so good. With each thrust, you accept him more than you did before.

“Just like that, princess. Open up for Daddy.”

His words nearly make you drool. You hadn’t called him that before, thinking it would be too weird as you were closer in age to his daughter than you were to him. But the way he says it makes you want to call him that more often, sexual or not. You nod, easing up on the vice grip your walls had around him. It didn’t take him long before he bottoms out and you’re squirming underneath him.

His thrusts are relentless. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping skin, as if you’re being punished when really, you’re being rewarded. You don’t have to ask him to go faster or deeper because he already is. Like a madman, he digs his pickaxe further into your cave. He forces your insides to conform around him. Hell, he’d rearrange your guts if your child wasn’t already harbored within.

Beau’s chest brushes against yours as one hand holds onto the edge of his desk while the other wraps around your shoulders. His fingers claim a death grip while yours clutch the fabric of his shirt. You hold on for dear life, your legs trembling around him. The objects around you bounce to the rhythm of your boyfriend’s hips, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re questioning the sturdiness of the mahogany table. Your moans flood his ears, loud and whiny. They grow stronger and more consistent when his abdomen rubs against your sensitive clit.

The pleasure becomes too much to bear. You hadn’t expected to last long but the way your cowboy grinds on you brings you closer to your climax than intended. If he were any other man, you would have felt embarrassed, but given your history with Beau, you feel a sense of satisfaction. Only he can get you there as quickly as you deserve, and after he’s hurt you, it seems to be quicker. Maybe makeup sex is the best kind of sex.

He grunts in your ear, only turning you on further. His breathy moans make you forget what he’d ever done. Beau was never shy about making noise, reminding you you’re responsible for each and every one. His face scrunches, and you know he’s as close as you. Your eyes roll back and so does your head as you near sheer ecstasy.

Struggling to get the words out, you stutter through, “I-I’m g-gon-na, oh, fuck—”

“Me too, baby,” His lips brush against your ear, purring the words that send you over the edge. “Cum for Daddy.”

You let out a ferocious scream, a primal sound that echoed through the room, one you had never unleashed before. It tears from your throat as the knot in your belly finally snaps, releasing a surge of raw emotion that had been building inside you for far too long. The tension that had gripped you so tightly unravels, leaving you breathless and trembling, as wave after wave crashes around Beau’s solid member. Your convulsions summon his release, so with a halt of his hips and a twitch from his cock, he spews his hot load into your spent cunt. A feral shout rips from the depths of his core, a noise that surprises even himself.

The Sheriff resists collapsing on you like he usually did after a round of intercourse, refusing to apply weight to your growing belly. Your chests heave quickly, your lungs desperately gasping for air. The office is so quiet, you swear you can hear the rhythm of your hearts beating as one. He captures your lips in a kiss, commanding the butterflies to flutter once again. The world fades around you leaving only the intensity of the moment.

The kiss lingers on the edge of breathlessness, leaving you wondering why you came here to begin with. He withdraws his luscious lips and you softly whimper, craving more. You dive into the pools of his enchanting eyes the second you open yours, all of your problems drowning the deeper you swim. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck, breaking the spell he held you in only to place you under another when he begins peppering your exposed skin with tiny kisses. You both lay in a comfortable silence, basking in the blissful aftermath of your physical and emotional unity as your nails lightly trace up and down his back.

“That was...wow.” He breathes.

You chuckle, quipping, “You have such a way with words.”

Beau snorts. He raises his head and a lazy smirk forms, his eyes raking over your countenance. “I got in between your legs, didn’t I?”

“For that, you can get out.”

“S’alright. I got what I wanted anyway.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You, pregnant.”

Those two words went straight to your stuffed pussy.

“That so?” You struggle to ask calmly.

“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I want a kid that’s half you? You’re everything and more. I can’t wait to tell everyone.” Your heart melts and his eyes glance at your fleshy mountains above it. “Fuck, darlin’, the thought of my seed growing inside you does things to a man.”

You want to slap him for ruining the sweet moment but you’re too turned on to do so. He lifts himself off of you, careful not to pull out. Beau stares down at your small bump, his impure thoughts untamed. Just maybe, if he said them aloud, he could get another round before everyone returned. The way your breath hitches tells him all he needs.

“You’re gonna look so sexy with a swollen belly. I don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off you. You’re gonna be one smokin’ mom. ‘Think I might just keep you pregnant after this one.” He grabs the top of your thighs, pulling you towards the edge of the desk. One by one, he lifts your legs and leans them against his strong chest. He turns his head and presses tender kisses to your right ankle, sending tingling sensations down your legs, and straight to your core. In between pecks, he asks, “How’s that sound, sweetheart?”

You barely register the question as he switches his attention to your other ankle. He chuckles when you murmur something incoherently agreeable.

He can’t help but mock, “You have such a way with words.”

Beau’s kisses halt and he looks at you with dark eyes. You squeeze his hardening dick and in return, he pushes deeper, his bellend brushing your shut cervix. He forces a whimper out of your pretty little mouth, and it drives you both feral. The fire in your tummy reignites and you bite your lip with anticipation. You want him so bad, you don’t care who walks in. His hands secure at your hips and you brace at the new angle, ready for more.

With your arms comfortably propped against his desk, you lean back with a satisfied smile, watching as the hot sheriff tucks himself back into his jeans. The office was quiet except for the occasional and distant ring of the abandoned phones. You should have been ashamed for being apathetic to those calling but your selfishness thrives on the euphoria Beau brought to you moments before. Coming here—in more ways than one—to mend things was the last thing on your mind but you aren’t disappointed with how they turned out. He begins to button his shirt from the bottom up when he notices you staring.

“See something you like?”

“Yes, sir.” Your lip tucks between your sharp teeth, nearly drawing blood. Despite having him twice already, you could go for a third. “Something I really, really, like.”

His fingers fall from his shirt and a devilish smirk makes a broad appearance on his irresistibly handsome face.

He steps between your thighs and leans closer as his sultry voice remarks, “Sounds like you’ve got a problem, princess.”

“I sure do...Daddy.”

His eyebrow raises, and so does his package. “What’d’ya gonna do about it?”

“I would show you but I don’t think you could handle another round.”

“Oh, sweetheart, when have I ever stopped at two with you?” Beau rhetorically questions before seizing your lips.

His mouth moves in sync with yours but he’s damn near ravenous. You moan into the urgent kiss, slightly taken aback by his hunger. It was as if you hadn’t done it twice in the last twenty minutes, a record for him. Sure he’s right, he didn’t stop at two rounds, hell, there’ve been days you never left the bedroom, but there was time between each copulation. His thick fingers run through your hair and massage your scalp, turning your brain to mush. Your arms envelope his torso in a warm embrace, longing for the moment to stretch into eternity, wishing never to let go again.

It had surpassed the 20-minute limit that Beau hadn’t given to his subordinates. They waited outside and would’ve enjoyed the nice weather had it not been for the way the Sheriff had exploded. Despite the copious amount of stress that came with the job, Beau had never reacted in such a way, which caused them all to worry. Everyone had formed small circles, talking amongst themselves about what was happening in the office. Little did they know...

Jenny pulls up to the station and her brows furrow once she sees the individuals. What in the hell..? She throws her ‘96 Bronco into park, her eyes narrow as she scans the crowd for Poppernak after rounding the vehicle. His back faces her but she instantly recognizes her partner. As she walks closer, he hears her boots against the pavement and spins around with a relieved smile.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Y/N. She showed up with hell to pay. They’re in there right now, going at it.”

“How long have they been in there?”

“Just under half an hour,” The detective nods, trying to piece together if that was enough time for you to kill him and hide his body. “The boss said to come back after twenty but we’re all too scared to go in before she comes out. I don’t want to get yelled at again.”

She huffs in slight amusement. “Do you want me to check?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What’d I tell you about calling me ma’am?”

“Sorry, ma—Hoyt.”

Jenny turns on her heel with a roll of her eyes. She walks up the steps and past the glass doors. It was quiet which made her wary. She figured the first interaction since that shameful day would involve yelling but nope. Just silence. A sick feeling set in her stomach. Maybe she had killed him, she thought.

Mo felt guilty for letting his partner go into the belly of the beast alone so he worked up the courage to follow after her. Jenny tiptoed through the station, not wanting to disrupt what may or may not be happening. He takes larger steps and catches up with her quickly, being just as quiet. She hears his heavy and nervous breathing, chuckling to herself. How can a man of his size be afraid of anything?

Then, there it was: The Sheriff’s office. They notice both doors and blinds are closed. This can’t be good. The Deputies shuffle closer and peer into the window of the door, past the vinyl lettering on the tempered glass. Beau’s lips attack your bruised neck and your body arches into his.

Their eyes widen as they watch the intimate scene before them. Your moans shove past the door and fill more than your cowboy’s ears. Poppernak gulps and his body goes hot; This wasn’t what he expected, and neither did Hoyt. She awkwardly chuckles but doesn’t tear her gaze away.

“Well, you weren’t kidding about them going at it.” Before he can respond, she knocks on the door, louder than normal, startling you. You jump while Beau slumps his shoulders. She pushes the door open and says with a sarcastic cheer, “I see you two made up.”

Beau sighs with great annoyance then straightens with a look matching his exhale. Your face blushes bright red, completely embarrassed yet thankful they hadn’t interrupted any sooner. But Jenny knew otherwise. The disheveled clothes, the messy hair, the faint smell of sex, the marks on each of your skins, the reason why the doors and blinds were closed to his office—it all added up. As soon as his partner opened the Sheriff’s door, his eyes stayed glued to the floor.

“What’d’ya want?” The handsome man beside you grumbles.

“Well, I was just wondering if everyone can come back and do their jobs, that is if you guys are done in here.”

You push your dress past your knees and hop down from the desk. Beau wraps his arm around your waist, holding you upright, knowing your legs are bound to give out on you. And he was most certainly right. They tremble underneath your weight but you hide it well. He gives you a look only you know and understand: Are you okay? You nod with a reassuring smile, once again, getting lost in his enchanting eyes until Jenny clears her throat.

“Sorry—Yeah, we’re finished.” You reply.

“Great. I’ll let ‘em know.” She closes the door behind her and takes Mo with her.

You grumble as you bury your flushed face in his naked chest. “Oh my gosh, that was so embarrassing.”

He rubs circles into your aching back, trying his best to comfort you. “I know, at least it wasn’t worse.”

“What would you have done if they came five minutes earlier?”

His brows draw together, glancing at you in question as he confidently answers, “If you’re asking if I would’ve stopped, the answer’s no.”

With a startled gasp, you snap your head towards his and witness his composed expression. He isn’t joking. Your laughter fills the room, instantly settling your nerves. The Sheriff cracks a smile; Oh, how he’s missed you. He was a fool for ever pushing you away and he’ll spend the rest of his life regretting the time he pushed you away. The station begins to fill with bodies, along with a light chaotic chatter, bringing you back to reality.

“I should call my boss. Tell ‘em the sheriff beat up our new hire.” You kid.

He rolls his eyes with a sly grin. “Tell him Wren wasn’t the only pussy I beat up today.”

“Beau Arlen!” Your face flushes at his quip. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, darlin’.”

Wren sat on the steel bench, cursing himself for letting another pretty girl get him into trouble. Footsteps echo down the corridor, grasping his attention enough to whip his head toward the exit. His shoulders slump in solace the moment you walk in but it doesn’t last long. His muscles tighten and his jaw locks in place as he shoots a fiery glare at the sheriff, anger crackling in the air between them. You could cut the tension with a knife and you hated it; It was all a misunderstanding, not that it mattered now.

Beau sighs in defeat as he takes the cellar keys from his pocket. A deal was a deal, and if he’s being honest, he got the better end of it: You. He inserts the key into the lock, and with hesitation to unlock it, he glances at you for assurance. You stare at him with expectant eyes and he knows he has to turn it. With a click, the cell unlocks and he slides it open.

“All right, you’re free to go.”

The inmate’s eyes dart between the two of you, bewildered. “I don’t understand.”

You gaze at your boyfriend, and ask, “Could you give us a minute?”

He was wary; He didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with the man who attacked him. He didn’t know him and neither did you. How bad could he be if he willingly defended you? You can practically feel Beau’s apprehensiveness, more now that you’re carrying his child.

“Please.”

He nods with reluctance. If he so much as lays a hand on her... “I’ll be right outside.”

You give your undivided attention to your coworker, wearing a look of sorrow. “Listen—”

“Let me guess,” He strolls from behind the bars toward you. “He’s your jealous ex-boyfriend who you’ve been avoiding, but then he sees you with me, unleashes his anger on my face, and now you’re sorry.”

That’s pretty spot on. “Yeah—”

“You could’ve told me he was the damn sheriff.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to—!” You pause and exhale softly. “Look, I talked to him and he isn’t gonna press any charges, and I really hope you don’t either. I don’t know what came over him, and I’m not excusing how he handled the situation, but he’s a good man.”

“What’s your deal with him?”

Your eyebrows pinch together, confused by the question. “Huh?”

“Just an hour ago, you were demanding he leave you alone and now you’re team Arlen.”

“I—I just, I know he regrets what he did and I don’t want this one mistake to ruin his career.”

“So those hickeys on your neck didn’t influence your change of heart?” Your hand flies to Beau’s canvas, your face growing hot with embarrassment. You totally forgot, but your cowboy sure didn’t. “‘Thought so.”

“It’s not like that. We just, we finally talked, and I’m sorry it came at your expense but please don’t punish him because of me. I never meant for you to get involved and if there’s anything I can do to fix it, I will.”

His eyes scan your countenance, finding only sincerity. He kicks himself; It isn’t your fault that he ended up in a jail cell on his first day of work, at least not all of it.

“Can you fix my face?”

“And take away how badass you look? Nuh uh.” You chuckle whilst praying your persuasion works. “Taking on a sheriff...the girls are gonna be all over you, don’t you worry.”

“Ya think so?”

“‘Course. Everyone loves a bad boy.”

Wren grins, now content with his swelling eye, bruised cheek, and fat lip. “You better be right.”

You were.

A week had passed since you and Beau made up. He took a few days off work and focused on you and your relationship moving forward. You both went to the baby’s first ultrasound and found out you were nearly two months pregnant. The look on your partner’s face was the happiest you’d ever seen. A memory you’d never forget.

From the moment you mentioned you were expecting, he hadn’t shut up about it. He was so proud to be the father of your child. He’d talk about how to raise it, his hopes of it looking and acting just like you, and that he couldn’t wait for Emily to be a big sister. He wanted to call her the day he found out but you both agreed it was best to meet formally first. You didn’t want to overwhelm her; After all, one could argue that you and Beau were moving too fast. Though, neither of you had seen it that way.

The Sheriff had talked of marriage plans, wanting to—legally—keep you forever. You’d be honored to be made his wife, but you didn’t want to upset his daughter by rushing it. So, you each decided to wait until after she adjusted to your relationship and her new sibling. He adored you, even more so, having put Emily’s feelings first. From that moment moving forward, he vowed never to fuck up again.

You were outside of Beau’s trailer in your prettiest dress, setting up the table with four plates, four utensils, and four cups while he cooked on his George Foreman. Despite your efforts to buy him a real, big boy grill, he refused. It was a big day; You were finally meeting Carla and Emily. He looked over and saw the tremble in your hands. ‘Nervous’ didn’t begin to cover how you truly felt.

“Sweetheart,” He pulls you into an embrace, kissing your shoulder as a comfort. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“What if they don’t like me? What i-if they ask you to break up with me? Oh, gosh, my baby isn’t going to have a father—”

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t ever say that. Don’t even think it. I would never leave you, just like they’d never ask. They’re going to love you. You hear me?”

He had cupped your face as he assured you, shooing away the tears that formed in your pretty eyes. You nodded softly, letting the words sink in. Maybe he’s right, maybe they’ll love you. With a deep breath, you blinked the tears away, refusing to listen to the doubtful thoughts that haunted your mind. Beau pulled your forehead towards his lips and delivered a lingering peck.

The gravel underneath Carla’s tires crunched as she drove toward the trailer. Emily was ecstatic to meet you properly, as her father’s girlfriend, but her mother...not so much. Sure she had moved on but the thought of her ex-husband involved with a younger girl made her skin crawl. She wouldn’t call it jealousy; She wanted him to be happy, like she was with Avery, but did it have to be with someone half his age? And when the sheriff moved out of the way and she finally saw you, a sliver of envy pierced her heart: You were beautiful.

Your own pounded against your ribcase; There they were. It was time. Beau took your hand and he squeezed it as a reminder that you weren’t alone. They exited the vehicle, both wearing bright smiles, one real, the other fake.

“Hey!” He called, matching his daughter’s grin.

Emily jogged up the porch steps while Carla followed slowly behind. You released his hand before he pulled his daughter in for a hug, watching with a large smile as he held her close, incredibly grateful for her, and her acceptance of the two of you. When she began to groan, he set her free. She turned to you, each of you nervous about how to greet each other. Finally, you settled on a quick embrace.

“It’s so nice to see you again!”

“You too! I’m so glad you’re my dad’s girlfriend.”

“Awe,” Your heart clenched at the lovely comment. “You are so sweet.”

“Did you like the flowers he sent?”

“I loved them.”

“They were my idea.” She bragged.

“I knew it couldn’t have been him. They were too thoughtful.”

“Hey!” He called sternly. “That’s not true.”

You both giggled before you cleared your throat pretending to be serious. “No, of course not.”

Beau rolled his eyes with annoyance, earning another laugh. He should have known how fast it would be before you two turned on him. This next one better be a boy! He grumbles to himself. Carla watched how quickly her daughter took a liking to you so she figured it was only fair to give you a shot.

“Carla, this is Y/N. Y/N, Carla.” Beau introduced.

She extended her hand and you gladly shook it. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You as well. I’ve heard so many great things about you.”

“Thanks,” Her eyes glanced at her ex-husband and she playfully remarked, “You’re right about his thoughtfulness. It’s terrible.”

“Okay, okay. That’s enough.” He hollered.

You led them to the table to get to know one another better while he finished cooking. You both agreed to keep the baby a secret for a little while longer so you made sure not to mention it. Time flew by and before you knew it, Beau had finished grilling. The man was right, they loved you. After eating, they stayed well into the night, everyone exchanging stories and having a grand ol' time. He was grateful as he watched the most important women in his world build a bridge he should've crossed a long time ago, and he was ashamed he hadn't done it sooner.

BEAU ALREN MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

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: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

in one of Cater halloween vignettes it shows a lot of character depth in him that wasn’t seen in the main story his backstory is touched how lonely Cater is and how he hides that loneliness by always smiling.

I find that this is true for a lot of Twst characters, particularly the non-OB boys. The main story doesn’t give them a lot of screen time, so the vignettes try to make up for it by fleshing out the characters there. The only issue is that you can easily miss this if you don’t roll the card (or hunt down the vignettes online) or if you don’t have an interest in that particular character. The truth is that most people only read the main story and/or the vignettes of the characters they like, meaning that they don’t check out the vignettes of characters that aren’t their favorites. This means not everyone is seeing the character depth and growth that gets explored in vignettes 💦 Twst tries to mediate this by having other characters feature in someone’s vignettes so you may be tempted to explore the others, but I’m not sure how successful this tactic is if most people are only reading to see their Best Boy in action.

What I appreciate about Cater’s Halloween Dress vignettes is that we see the entire Light/Pop Music Club’s perspectives on friendship. Cater has many friendships, but they aren’t very deep. In his own words, “ I would always leave, and they would always stay. That's why I always tried to be on good terms with everyone, rather than forge strong bonds with a chosen few. Like a circus performer who has a grand old time with people from around the world, and then packs up and moves on […] I can have all the casual connections I can handle.” He intentionally keeps people at a distance, and this is Cater’s way of coping with the frequent moves in his childhood. This way, he can’t get hurt whenever the inevitable time to move again comes. I find it interesting that Cater specifically likens himself to being a circus performer. We know that his sisters and mom would have him do things he didn’t like, such as eating excessive amounts of sweets or dressing cutely—so I wonder if, like his shallow friendships, Cater always felt as though he had to perform and pretend to be someone he’s not to gain others’ approval.

Cater’s mentality confuses Kalim, who argues that “[…] distance [isn’t] any reason to keep them at arm's length.” He’s the kind of person that would want to have deep and meaningful bonds, no matter how far apart his friends are from him. Of course, Kalim can afford to think this way because his immense privilege allows him to just hop on his magic carpet or a private jumbo jet to go anywhere in Twisted Wonderland anytime. He doesn’t realize how such a thing is inaccessible to most of the population (like Cater, even if his family probably counts as upper middle class), or how Cater may feel uncomfortable reaching out to others. Kalim is just continuing to naively speak from his own perspective, which is very much in-character for a sheltered, pampered, and optimistic rich kid.

Then we get to Lilia, the oldest of the group AND a father who surely knows “his time” is coming soon. He speaks with wisdom and extols the importance of friendship, which can transcend even time: “Bonds between people never truly fade. They continue on throughout our lives. And in time, new ties are forged, even without any intention on your part. That's how life is.” What I find particularly fascinating is what he follows up with: “But the more precious a bond is, the more pain it can inflict […] In deciding not to get too close to any one person, you may be the wisest one here, Cater.” It’s very telling that Lilia calls this behavior “wise”. This perfectly aligns with his reasoning for wanting to rush his departure from NRC in book 7 😭 Lilia didn’t want to leave ASAP because he doesn’t care about his Diasomnia boys, he wants to leave ASAP to spare them the pain of a prolonged good-bye. From that perspective, Lilia cares TOO much.

Aaaah, there’s just so much good content locked behind vignettes…!! I would really encourage everyone to read more of them if possible!!

[creatingblackcharacters]

do you think there needs to be a reason for my Black ocs to be Black? context: im white, and in high school when i was first trying to learn about intersectionality and how to be antiracist i made a million ocs and the vast majority of them are Black or brown. its been years and years and years at this point and that's kind of just how i see them at this point. few of them are part of a broader story based project, most of my ocs kind of are just my muses, so, if there's no real storyline where a character's race needs to be interacted with, do you think it's weird to have a character just be Black, for no reason any bigger than maybe that i want to get better at drawing Black features? (btw: your blog is helping me find good references for that and i greatly appreciate it. im practicing drawing Black hair, both natural and protective styles, a lot lately bc ive realized i never really learned to do it properly. so thanks!) (btw 2: sorry i forgot about the capital B thing!)

No 👍🏾 just accept that when you make them Black, you now have to consider what that means in the context of their story, and to your viewership. We don't have to have a reason to be Black in real life, why would I need one to exist in a story? Y'all don't need white people to have a reason to be white in story!

[kandized]

let me be loved like this — polytrix

summary. zoey’s never been the most secure girl. It explained why she was so eager to please, doing everything she could to hear the words, 'good job' from someone she loved. So when Rumi unexpectedly complimented her for her hair, which she believed was long overdue for a cut, she couldn't help but blush.

warnings. smut. polyamory. zorumi. praise kink. mira and rumi show their girl some love as deserved. kitchen sex. dom!mira. dom!rumi. bottom!zoey. dubcon. miras an eater (canon). the kind of greed they talk about in the bible. fluffy ending. zoey with her hair down a/n: this was supposed to be fluff originally but I got carried away and I think zoey needs more appreciation in and out of the show. (idc if she gets enough she needs more). ao3.

rumi sighed, tossing her pen onto the table with a soft clatter. frustration prickled up her spine—she knew what she wanted to say. the line was right there, but the words just wouldn’t land the way she needed them to.

they didn’t sound right.

she leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose as her eyes wandered—inevitably—to zoey.

zoey sat cross-legged on the chair at the kitchen table, creamy bare thighs on full display, a thick hoodie swallowing the rest of her. it hung low, brushing the tops of her legs, the sleeves pushed sloppily up her arms. a notebook rested on one thigh, and her pen tapped rhythmically to the beat playing through her headphones.

she looked so focused. so effortlessly pretty. her hair was down for once, the strands slightly mussed, with bangs that had grown too long and now kept slipping into her eyes.

rumi tilted her head, letting her gaze linger. something about it made her stop.

zoey just looked… soft like this. unbothered. vulnerable in a way that made rumi’s chest clench.

zoey jotted something down, biting her lip—then let out a little squeak of excitement.

but she must’ve felt the weight of rumi’s stare, because her pen slowed… then stopped completely.

she glanced up, pulling one side of her headphones off with a curious little smile. “what?” she asked, laughing quietly. “did you finally figure your lines out? or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?”

rumi blinked, caught mid-thought, then tilted her head with a lazy half-smirk. “do you not like being stared at?” she asked, voice softer now—less teasing, more genuinely curious.

zoey’s eyes flicked away. she gave a soft shrug. “i don’t know… i guess i just don’t get why anyone would.”

that hit rumi somewhere low in her chest.

“hmm,” she said. “i can think of a few reasons.”

the room got quiet before rumi spoke again. “your hair’s getting long.”

zoey blinked back, glancing up as if just realizing the way her bangs dipped into her eyes. she blew at them with a huff of breath before taking her headphones off, setting them on the table. “ah… yeah, i’ve been so busy i haven’t had time to cut it. should i?”

rumi leaned her elbow on the table, eyes never leaving her. “no,” she said firmly. “it looks good like this. i like it like this.”

zoey looked at her again, a little unsure. “..yeah?”

“yeah,” rumi said, smiling now. she reached out and gently tucked zoey’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger. “you’re so pretty, zoey.”

that caught zoey completely off guard.

zoey’s breath hitched. her heart gave a small, involuntary stutter, and her stomach fluttered with that soft, unsteady warmth that made her feel dizzy in the best way.

she didn’t know what to do with it—with the compliment, the touch, the way rumi was looking at her like she meant it.

her eyes widened just slightly, lips parting—speechless for once. the air between them grew heavier, charged, and zoey’s cheeks lit up pink.

she ducked her head, hand brushing over the spot rumi had touched, a quiet, shaky laugh escaping her. “oh my god,” she muttered. her voice was too soft, too breathy. she felt like she was floating. or melting. maybe both.

rumi watched her like she was the only thing in the room. “is zoey…” she said, tilting her head with a grin. “is zoey blushing?”

zoey groaned, hands flying up to cover her face. “no, i’m not—shut up.”

“liar,” rumi said, practically glowing now. “you’re actually blushing. that’s so cute. zoeyyy!”

“stop!” zoey said through her hands, voice muffled and clearly flustered. “i’m gonna kick you.”

“you wouldn’t,” rumi teased, scooting her chair closer until their knees brushed. she leaned in, breath warm against zoey’s ear, her hand settling confidently on her thigh. “my pretty little zoey.”

zoey froze, her breath catching in her throat. her hands slowly dropped, her face still flushed, eyes wide with that same vulnerable disbelief.

rumi didn’t give her a chance to recover.

zoey tried to lean away, overwhelmed—but rumi followed, closing the space between them with a quiet intensity.

her hand slid from zoey’s thigh to her cheek, tilting her head towards hers just slightly before pressing their mouths together.

the kiss started soft—testing—but zoey gasped, her breath hitching as she gave in, fingers twisting on the front of rumi’s hoodie like she was holding on for dear life.

that flutter in her stomach twisted into something heavier, warmer—needier.

she melted fast.

too fast.

chairs scraped loudly as rumi tugged her closer, zoey nearly falling out of her seat in the process. rumi stood, pulling zoey up with her like it was nothing, like she was weightless, and kissed her again—deeper this time.

their mouths moved together, wet and hot, tongues brushing. “rumi..!” zoey moaned softly into her, voice barely restrained, every part of her trembling from the intensity of it.

rumi backed her up until she hit the edge of the table, then pressed her in place, hips flush, hands gripping tight at her waist.

her mouth dragged down, kissing along zoey’s jaw and lower still, until she found the soft skin of her neck.

“fuck,” zoey whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

rumi didn’t stop.

“my beautiful girl,” she murmured against her skin, breath warm and ragged. she sucked lightly, then kissed again, leaving slow heat in her wake.

her fingers slipped under the hem of zoey’s large hoodie, lifting it while her thumbs brushed her hips. “no shorts? mm.” rumi spoke, pulling at the hem of zoey’s panties and letting it snap back against her skin causing zoey to yelp.

zoey’s entire body buzzed with sensation. her mind was soft static. her legs felt weak.

she didn’t hear the door.

but rumi did—just a beat too late.

“well—holy shit,” mira’s voice rang out, half-laughing, half-stunned. “i leave you guys alone for five minutes and now you’re practically fucking on top of the lyric sheets?”

zoey gasped and jolted back, shoving at rumi’s shoulders with burning cheeks and pushing her hoodie down. “oh my god—mira!”

rumi barely moved, just turned her head lazily toward mira, lips flushed, eyes half-lidded. “you were gone for thirty,” she said calmly, like she wasn’t just about to turn zoey out in the dining room.

mira dropped the bags on the counter, eyebrows raised, a grin pulling at her lips. “i was shopping, not speedrunning,” she muttered, watching them with interest.

before zoey could run, rumi dissolved into pink mist before appearing behind zoey again—effortless, predatory.

she slid her arms around zoey’s waist and pulled her backward, flush to her chest, until zoey gave a breathless squeak. “ah—rumi!”

“mira, look here,” rumi said smoothly, her voice dripping with mischief. “see how long her hair’s gotten?”

zoey whined, face burning as her hands flew up to cover herself again.

but rumi was already catching them—her fingers threading through zoey’s, gently but deliberately pulling her arms down and away from her face.

“don’t hide,” rumi whispered near her ear, lips brushing against her skin. “i want her to see how pretty you are.”

zoey’s breath hitched. her body trembled, a sharp pulse deep inside her, clenching around nothing.

it was too much—the attention, the praise, the heat in both their eyes.

and mira, still leaning casually against the counter with her arms crossed, watched it all unfold with a glint of amusement. she let out a low, appreciative whistle.

“jesus. should i leave again or grab popcorn?”

zoey tried to twist away, overwhelmed, but rumi only caught her wrists and drew them behind her back, holding her there—easily, securely.

“mira, please—don’t feed her ego,” she said, voice cracking with embarrassment.

“oh no,” mira said, stepping closer with a wicked grin, her gaze dragging slowly down zoey’s body. “look at how your hair falls down your shoulders… an absolute beauty, aren’t you?”

“stop,” zoey let out a sigh, trying to pull from rumi’s grip, but rumi kept her in place—firm and patient.

“she gets so shy when you say nice things,” rumi murmured near zoey’s ear, clearly enjoying the way her words made zoey squirm. “isn’t that sweet?”

mira tilted her head, eyes glinting as she stepped in closer. “it is, isn’t it? are you a good girl, zoey? our good, sweet girl?”

zoey let out a soft, needy whimper, her knees visibly buckling as she gave a shy nod, eyes flickering between them as rumi moved to her side.

but mira wasn’t satisfied.

she leaned in until her lips were barely an inch from zoey’s, her voice a velvet command. “nuh-uh. use your words.”

zoey’s breath caught. her lips parted like she wanted to speak—but nothing came out.

rumi chuckled low against her neck, her fingers stroking slow circles at zoey’s waist. “come on, baby,” she coaxed, voice like honey. “say it. be good for us.”

zoey’s eyes fluttered closed, her face burning. and then, barely audible:

“i’m… your good girl.”

mira smiled. “there she is.”

rumi hummed, brushing her lips along zoey’s jaw as she spoke. “you know, i think good, pretty girls deserve special attention.”

mira nodded, biting her lip as she caged zoey in, “i think you’re right, rumi.”

before zoey could even ask what that meant, mira was already moving—hands at the hem of her hoodie, lifting it just enough to expose the bare skin beneath.

“wait—” zoey gasped, but rumi was right there, soothing her with a kiss behind her ear.

“shh,” she whispered. “let us take care of you.”

zoey trembled in place, thighs brushing as she struggled to stay upright, her hoodie now bunched around her hips—exposing the curve of her waist and the sliver of pale skin above her underwear.

rumi got behind zoey once more, giving her a solid place to lean against, while mira knelt slowly in front of her like she had all the time in the world.

her hands slid down zoey’s legs, fingers trailing along the backs of her thighs, then smoothing up again—slow, deliberate. mira pressed a soft kiss just above the band of her underwear, her breath hot against sensitive skin, eyes glinting as she looked up.

zoey’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering. she felt raw—vulnerable and seen, a fluttering ache pulsing low in her belly.

her knees buckled slightly, only held up by rumi’s solid frame behind her.

“r-rumi—” she whispered.

“you’re doing so good,” rumi murmured, kissing just below her jaw now, her voice dripping with praise. “so perfect, we got you. let us show you how much we mean it.”

mira’s hands gripped zoey’s thighs, thumbs stroking slowly along the inside until one hand slid up and gently hooked her leg over mira’s shoulder, opening her up further.

the shift made zoey gasp—made her hoodie ride even higher, nearly baring her completely.

“look at you,” mira breathed, kissing her hipbone, her tone half-reverent, half-teasing. “shaking just from a little touch. such a sensitive thing…”

zoey whimpered, heat rolling off her in waves, one hand gripping rumi’s wrist for stability, the other tangled in the hem of her hoodie.

she couldn’t decide whether to pull it down or let it rise higher.

rumi leaned closer, her lips brushing over the shell of zoey’s ear again, voice low and intimate. “tell us if it’s too much, baby. otherwise…”

her hand slid just beneath the waistband of zoey’s underwear, barely grazing skin.

“…let us keep going.”

zoey nodded quickly, but mira tapped her thigh.

“use your words,” she said again, softly—but it was a command.

zoey bit her lip, her voice barely more than a whisper. “please… don’t stop. i don’t want you to stop.”

that was all they needed.

rumi kissed her temple, her hand gently pulling zoey’s hoodie up higher, bunching the fabric around her ribs until it was practically off. she tugged it carefully over zoey’s head, baring her slowly like she was unwrapping something precious.

zoey shivered under the attention, arms folding instinctively across her exposed chest.

“none of that,” rumi murmured from behind, gently uncrossing zoey’s arms and kissing the slope of her shoulder. “you don’t have to hide from us. you’re enough. let us see you.”

zoey breathed out shakily, nodding, trying to trust the warmth in their hands, the sincerity in rumi’s voice. the hoodie hit the floor with a soft sound, and now she stood between them in nothing but a thin pair of underwear, trembling and adored.

mira’s fingers traced the waistband again, her eyes never leaving zoey’s face.

“you’re so pretty like this,” she whispered, voice husky. “you were made for this, weren’t you? to be taken care of. this is what you need, zo zo.”

zoey’s thighs clenched, a soft noise catching in her throat as mira kissed the inside of her leg—slow, deliberate, just above the knee. then higher. higher still. until she was just breathing against her center through the thin fabric of her panties.

zoey whimpered.

rumi leaned into her ear again. “that feel good, zo?” she asked softly. “you want her mouth on you?”

zoey could barely think. she nodded quickly—desperate, dizzy.

rumi chuckled. “your words, zoey.”

her voice trembled. “i… i want it. i want mira’s mouth on me. please…”

mira grinned, fingers hooking into the sides of her underwear, dragging them down slow enough to make zoey twitch.

“that’s my good girl,” mira murmured. “beg so sweet.”

zoey stepped out of them shakily, one leg still hooked around mira’s shoulder. her entire body was open—flushed, trembling, exposed in every way.

and yet they kept looking at her like she was something sacred.

mira leaned in and kissed her—soft at first. her voice followed, low and hungry. “how pretty,” she murmured, lips brushing soaked heat. “all this just for us?”

zoey whimpered, hips jerking at the contact. it felt like her skin was too thin, too sensitive. like every nerve had been rewired just to feel them.

then mira’s tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, dragging through her, and zoey gasped—head falling back hard against rumi’s shoulder.

pleasure pulsed through her, thick and hot, but it wasn’t just the physical. it was the unbearable ache of being seen, of being told she was beautiful—again and again—when all she ever felt was not enough.

too much. unworthy.

but they looked at her like she was the center of the world.

rumi held her like she might come apart. pressing soft kisses to her throat, chest cradled gently in one arm, her other hand stroking slow circles across zoey’s belly, grounding her in a tenderness she didn’t know how to hold onto.

“you’re okay,” rumi whispered, her voice like honey, like silk. “you’re doing so good. let her take her time with you. you taste too sweet for her to make you come so quickly—let her savor you.”

let her savor you. oh wow. is anyone else wet?

this was doing insane things to her ego.

rumi’s words only made zoey tremble harder.

mira moaned against her, the vibration sending a jolt straight through her core. her mouth moved in slow, wet strokes, unhurried, like zoey was something to savor—not rush, not use, but worship.

zoey cried out, hips bucking helplessly, one hand tangled in mira’s hair like she couldn’t bear to let her go. every brush of her tongue felt like too much—sharp, perfect, maddening.

“rumi—fuck—she’s—” zoey’s voice broke, a sob of pleasure escaping before she could stop it.

“i’ve got you,” rumi murmured into her neck. “you’re safe. you’re ours. let go.”

zoey’s chest ached with how much she wanted to believe it, wanted to believe them.

to believe she could be loved like this.

her moans grew tighter, breath high and stuttering, thighs shaking uncontrollably. she felt split open—not just by the pleasure, but by the way they touched her like she mattered.

like she was precious.

zoey’s moans grew higher, tighter, her hands flying to mira’s hair, clutching with helpless desperation as her legs began to shake.

her body bowed forward, her hands clutching mira like she was drowning in her.

and then—

she shattered.

her stomach clenched, back arching, a cry tearing from her lips that didn’t sound like anything she’d ever made before. it was raw. unfiltered.

her entire body pulsed, wave after wave crashing through her, leaving her shaking, breathless, and undone in rumi’s arms.

—

zoey’s body trembled as the last waves rolled through her, every muscle buzzing, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps.

she couldn’t speak—could barely think. her knees might’ve buckled if not for rumi’s steady arms still wrapped around her.

“deep breaths,” rumi whispered, brushing her lips against zoey’s temple. “you did so good, baby. so, so good.”

mira lifted her head slowly from between zoey’s thighs, lips wet, eyes soft and reverent as she looked up at her. there was no smugness now—just awe.

“my-my, zoey,” she murmured, stroking her hands gently down zoey’s trembling thighs. “you’re beautiful when you come. you looked like you were glowing.”

zoey whimpered, face turning away like she couldn’t bear the words. she didn’t know what to do with that kind of tenderness—especially when she didn’t feel like she deserved it.

“i—i’m not—” she began, voice hoarse, cracking.

“you are,” rumi said instantly, tightening her hold, pulling her closer. “you are, zoey. don’t try to argue right now, you can barely stand.”

mira stood, slowly, carefully, and moved in beside her, wrapping her arms around both of them.

she tucked her face against zoey’s cheek and whispered, “you’re not allowed to talk shit about yourself after letting us love you like that. nope. off limits.”

zoey let out a shaky, wet laugh, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them. “you guys are sooo mean.”

“you love it,” mira teased softly, brushing her thumb under zoey’s eye. “and we love you.”

zoey buried her face into rumi’s neck, overwhelmed in a way that felt nothing like before. not like shame. not like being too much or not enough. just… full. held. safe.

rumi rocked her gently, fingertips running along her spine. “you were so good for us,” she whispered. “so sweet. let us take care of you a little longer, okay?”

zoey nodded against her skin, small and tired and open.

“okay.”

mira kissed her cheek, then her shoulder, then the top of her head. “let’s get you in bed, pretty girl. we’ll hold you all night.”

rumi smiled into zoey’s hair. “and maybe tomorrow…” she said, voice low and promising, “…we’ll let you be the one in control.”

zoey groaned faintly, already hiding again. “oh my god.”

they both laughed—and this time, so did she.

—

rumi cleaned her gently, every touch slow and reverent, using warm cloths from the sink while mira whispered sweet things from the pillows, coaxing zoey to keep her eyes open just a little longer.

“mmm… i’m tired..” zoey whined, her voice muffled as she curled deeper into the sheets.

“i know, zo-zo,” mira murmured from behind her, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder. “just a little longer, yeah? do you want to be all sticky when you wake up?”

zoey shook her head softly and mira smiled, “good, then let rumi help you.”

rumi smiled too, brushing a warm cloth between zoey’s thighs. “almost done, i promise,” she said, voice low and soothing. “you’re being such a good girl.”

zoey whimpered at that, barely able to lift her head, but clearly still affected by the praise. her lashes fluttered, heavy with sleep before she brought her hands up to cover her face. “shuutt uppp,” she mumbled, cheeks burning even through her exhaustion.

rumi chuckled, soft and fond, and leaned forward to kiss her hip. “you’re cute when you’re shy,” she said gently, wiping down the last of the mess with practiced care.

zoey grumbled something incoherent into the pillow, but didn’t move away.

mira ran her fingers through zoey’s hair and asked quietly, “are you cold?”

“a little…”

“mm. figured.” rumi tossed the cloth to the side, grabbing a pair of zoeys boxers and sliding them up her legs while mira pulled the comforter higher over all of them. “we’ve got you.”

she moved back to the bed, crawling in behind zoey and wrapping her arms around her waist, sandwiching her between them.

zoey let out a soft sigh of relief—boneless and safe—as her body fully relaxed.

rumi kissed her temple and whispered, “you did so good for us, angel. rest now.”

mira tucked the blanket around them and nuzzled close. “tomorrow, we’ll spoil you all over again.”

zoey managed a sleepy smile, already slipping under. “tomorrow,” she echoed faintly, “you’re both in trouble…”

“mm. sure we are,” rumi chuckled, pulling her closer.

they fell asleep like that—warm, tangled, and completely wrapped in each other.

and for the first time in a long while, zoey didn’t feel like she had to earn any of it.

she just let herself be loved.

as they always would.

zoey you greedy asfk.

thank you for reading, let me know how you liked it!

© THIS STORY BELONGS TO KANDIZED ON TUMBLR AND KODZYNKEN ON AO3. I do not allow the unauthorized copying or sharing of my work. Please be respectful!

[808airsoftbros]

AIDOL University

Author: Welp, here's the second episode of this series! If you want to stay up to date, please follow and like. Sharing is also greatly appreciated. If you'd like to see more of my content, you can check out the Masterlist page.

~~~

Episode II: The Man Who Speaks in Hands

Y/N's POV

Walking amongst the facade of AIDOL University, the place was not only littered with a diverese species of the supernatural but also with wisdom, privilege, and luxury.

The students here are centuries old with years of experience and wisdom under their belts. It doesn't make this school less imposing, as most of them are rich and come from lineages of high-class families.

Let's be honest, the reason why a guy, let alone a human, is allowed to come here is because of my sister. Her mother birthed both of us, yet somehow I remain human.

Why? I don't even know the answer to that, but what I do know is that when I grew older, I learned that I had God-like powers.

Nobody knows about it yet, not even Wonyoung or my parents... At least not to the fullest extent.

"Well, brother, this is where we must part ways for now. Are you sure you can handle yourself?" She asked me in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, I think I can figure it out myself," I assured her and she sighed.

"Alright, suit yourself," She replied as she walked to her class.

Turning around to see the campus map posted on the large board, I looked over my schedule, seeing that my first class is Calculus III, I head over to the math department building.

Inside the building, students were all wearing luxury clothing and expensive jewelry, some of them were vintage, most of them eyed me silently with a curious expression.

I can tell some of them, the Vampires and Kitsunes are trying to dig into my mind to see what secrets I hide, but to no avail, as my mind is naturally impenetrable to telepathy.

"That's so weird... I can't read this boy's mind..."

"Yeah... It's not like he's really human... But is he...?"

"Hm. Closed off, much?"

Ignoring their whispers as I walked past them, I went to what's supposedly the elevator, but it's just an empty shaft that only those with wings and floating capabilities can fly up through.

"Sorry, new kid, you're gonna have to go up the stairs. A little exercise doesn't hurt much, does it~?" One of the Demons jokingly said before ascending up the shaft.

"Too bad you don't have any magical powers." A mermaid mentioned before jumping in the waterfall swimming upwards.

Welp. Guess it's time to take one of my 'shortcuts' once again. I walked to the end of the corridor and I found myself in the third floor where I need to be.

"Huh?! How did you get here so fast?!" The mermaid asked her eyes widened in surprise and I shrugged.

"Just took a shortcut," I answered.

Walking past her, I head to the classroom on my schedule. I looked at the number 312, I opened the door, and walked into the classroom to see a pretigeous professor who looked like a Kitsune.

"Ah, konichiwa, you must be the new student! Interesting, I've never seen a male student, let alone a human, attend this privileged university. No matter, please have a seat in the freshmen area over there." The professor said as she pointed to the sign.

The seats looked sad as hell, clearly, the freshmen get the lowest quality seats. There was rust all over the metal surface and the chair along with the desk attatched was creaking.

The desk looked like it was ready to be dumped compared to the upper-classmen seating, which looked new and actually safe to sit on during the lecture.

"Sorry, as you can see, freshmen get the lowest bottom-of-the-barrel equipment here, and not to mention, they won't be as prioritized as the older students. Please keep this in mind," She explained and I shrugged.

"Fine with me," I shrugged and she nodded.

As soon as the rest of the students walked in the class, the girls eyed me curiously and some mocking about how I have to sit in the shitty desks but I paid no mind.

"Ahem. Okay, class, please be quiet as today's lecture is now in session! I am Professor Miyawaki Sakura, I expect nothing but the best from all of you, and anyone who slacks off will be kicked out of the course. Am I clear?" She announced in a stern tone.

"Yes, professor!" The class acknowledged.

"Good. Anyway, for those who are wondering why a human is here today, he is going to be the first male student and human to ever attend the prestigious AIDOL University. Now, let us not waste any more time." She finished announcing and started the lecture.

Sakura hands out the assignment worksheets and we took notes as Sakura showed the first equations we have to understand, the shit about finding the X and Y by using complicated formulas.

But none of this was a problem for me, oh, and if you think I'm sane enough to sit on those broken-down desks, I'd just improvised using my telekenisis magic to hold the structure long enough so it doesn't collapse on me.

"Alright, now I want you all to try to solve the equations on the sheet and you can reference the example problems I've shown on the board." Sakura instructed.

Using the formulas given by the board, all of the problems were just baby bones. Find the coordinates of x, y, r? Pft. Give me a real challenge.

Sakura eyed us all but seeing if I needed the help yet I didn't raise my hand once making her raise an eyebrow in curiousity.

Looking at the upper-classmen, they seemed to be struggling yet I was calm and collected.

"Y/N, is it? How are you doing?" She checked on me.

"Fine, you should probably check on them," I answered with a hint of amusement.

"Is that so?" Sakura scoffed at my dry humor before taking the worksheet from my desk and looking it over.

Sakura delicately looked over each and every step, making sure every place and number was correct. Her eyes widened in begrudging respect as she sighed.

"Well, I'll be damned, you solved every one of them so quickly and without my help either... I hate to say it but I am impressed but don't get cocky... This is only the tip of the iceberg," She warned me as she walked away to tend to the other students who were struggling.

I laid back with my hands on the back of my head with a grin on my face as I knew I got into her skin even if she doesn't want to admit it.

"Pst. Hey~! New kid~!" I heard a voice calling me and I opened my left eye, looking over to see a short-haired sassy Vampire eyeing me mischievously.

"Watsup?" I asked her.

"So, you're the new student? The one Wonyoung mentioned, I say you're quite not as I expect..." She mentioned.

"Hm. Did you expect me to dress up in designer clothes and be a Vampire?" I asked her and she chuckled.

"Sort of, but what's even more strange is that I can't seem to read what's going on in that pretty little head of yours~. It's like a labyrinth in there... Normally, that only happens when that someone is simple-minded, yet you aren't exactly dumb either, so what gives?" She asked me curiously, and I shrugged.

"Good question," I answered.

"Well, since you have so far proved to be gifted than most humans, I believe personally you should have no issues rising up the ranks in the hierarchy and you won't be sitting on the bottom of the barrel for longer than you need to. Believe me, it's not pleasant," She explained and I raise an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I want to be part of the cool kids club?" I asked her and she laughed amusingly.

"Really? First off, it's called the AIDOL Royalty Lineage, and humans would do anything to get in that position, let alone be in your position right now. If you move up there, you will have more opportunities and privileges that the University offers, better food, and you get a better chance to interact with the royal highnesses themselves. I can go on all day, so you might wanna consider it," She suggested.

"And the Queen? The Queen of the Vampire Sisterhood... She's... Well... A big, fluffy pushover! Everyone loves her! And if you're up in the royal lineage with your sister, she'll grant you any favor you ask, access to the vault, working in the higher desired jobs within the University, all that good stuff. You're also a science major, right? Having access to the labs will be a huge help," She explained to me, and I raised an eyebrow, quite intrigued with having access to the labs, which will definitely help my research.

"Sounds cool. By the way, I never got your name," I pointed out and she laughed at herself.

"Oh, how silly of me~! How rude of me to forget to introduce myself, forgive me, I do get excited as new students are rare these days. I'm Lady Kim Chaewon, Alpha Vampire of Clan Le Sserafim. My duties are to report directly to the Princess herself. And you are Jang Y/N, Gaeul told me much about you," She introduced herself.

"Neat. Nice to meet you too," I replied, shaking hands with her.

After the lecture was over, I moved on to the next class, which was all science courses on the magics of soul traits, biology, and chemistry. All of those classes are my specialty as my mother whom I hardly see is a scientists who studies souls.

Heading over to the science building, the students were putting on their lab coats. A fellow fairy assistant pointed me to my locker. Surprisingly, my locker was actually brand new, and the coat inside was also new.

"Surprise. Science majors who are freshmen actually get brand new equipment. We don't want any safety hazards, do we?" She asked me with a cheeky grin.

"Hm. Fair enough," I answered.

Proceeding to the lab class, I was met with a stern-looking professor, her beauty is breathtaking, standing tall in a pencil skirt, wearing black stockings, and black high heels.

"Ah, I see a human has come into my lab, are you a test subject?" She asked me looking me over head to toe.

"Nope, I'm a freshmen, it's my first day here," I answered her and she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, right, I recalled I was informed that a male student was joining my class this year, you're not the first human to come here, and none of them had lasted... I wonder how long it will be until you inevitably drop out," She remarked with a wicked smirk as she leaned against her desk.

"I am Professor Kim Jisoo, also Vampire Alpha of clan Blackpink, and I am the head director of the science programs. I have high expectations for each of my students, and you being human doesn't make any difference, so I suggest you be on your A game or quit wasting your time and leave. I'll keep a close eye on you," She introduced herself before warning me.

"Of course, I'll do my very best to meet your standards," I replied, and she grinned as she watched me take a seat at one of the stations.

As the rest of the students showed up to the lecture, Jisoo began introducing the basics of soul traits and their unique abilities they possess.

Looking at the chart presented at the board, there are a total of seven different traits of souls discovered so far. Kindness, Perserverance, Justice, Patience, Integrity, and Bravery. All of them each with their unique abilities still being studied in the battle arena.

However... There was one rare and elusive trait... Determination...

"As you all may know, Determination is theorized as the most powerful trait out of all six; only a handful in this world possess such determination in their souls that can convert into magical attacks and are difficult to take down. Determination has no weaknesses as far as we've observed..." Jisoo explained as she went over the PowerPoint presentation.

Most of us were bored out of our minds, as I can see some already know about this including myself as a being that is able to possess all seven traits including Determination and yeah, that stuff is no joke.

"As far as legends speak, only one being was able to possess all seven traits... Whose name we do not know... All we know is that he is the man who speaks in hands. According to the last entry, when the man faced Eve, our creator, his physical body was destroyed, but his soul lived on to carry a vessel. We do not know who this vessel is or if they're human or not. That's all we know," She finished explaining the tale of the lost former royal scientists.

Hm. If only they knew I was sitting right here in the same room, but it's best if I keep my identity a secret so as to not cause any complications for me.

The only reason why I can live as long as Wonyoung has is because of the unique soul I possess; I am one with the royal scientists.

"Right class, that will be all for today. As for freshmen, make sure you report to the battle arena at precisely 1400 hours; there is an orientation being hosted for those who are new," She announced, and we got up from our chairs and left the classroom.

Walking into the courtyard of the school, most of the students were heading home except for the freshmen who are going into the battle arena as told.

Wonyoung was nowhere to be found, likely joining her members in the student council in the castle, leaving me on my own for now. Oh well, guess it's only me yet again.

Anyway, I head into the battle arena, inside, the place was massive as expected, there was a sky area, a pool simulating the ocean, a metropolitan city, and just the plain old training grounds where dummies are set up and such.

Guided to sit down on the bleachers with the rest of the new students, again, they were all surprised to see a human here as they expected to be all monsters.

"May I have your attention, please! Welcome, freshmen, to AIDOL Academy. I am your host and representative of Queen Lee Jieun, who regrettably cannot make it today. I am Shin Ryujin, Senior, and Captain of the Royal Guard! Here, we expect nothing but the best from each of you! The Queen will not tolerate slackers, and those who fail to meet the standards will be expelled. There are tutoring resources at your disposal, but those are mainly reserved for the more... Privileged students. We expect the freshmen who climb up the ranks of the lineage line, and I promise you all it will be well worth your while." Ryujin explained the rules and there was gasps along with whispers.

Damn, this place is really hell on Earth. It's clear their intolerance of incompetence is well-known, but I have no worries. This school thing is a piece of cake. Like taking candy from baby bones.

Another regal student stepped forward, her angelic wings concealed behind her back, she had an angelic expression as she held her scabbard on her right hip.

"For today's special event, you will all get an opportunity to challenge Shin Ryujin! We will select five of you! Those who come victorious over her will automatically move up to the top of the AIDOL Royal Lineage! But be wary, that Ryujin is a Vampire you do not want to cross if you are not prepared so be wise in entering the challenge," The angel explained and Ryujin scoffed.

"Oh, please, if they're wise enough, no hand should be raised if they know what's good for them," She laughed, and the angel playfully rolled her eyes.

As expected, almost nobody in the bleachers volunteered willingly except for a few, but with only two left to pick from, Ryujin and the Angel eyed the bleachers with their observing eyes.

"Hmm... Well, look what we have here! A human! How brave of you to come here! We hardly see your kind here in our prestigious school!" Ryujin pointed out and I sighed.

Ryujin ordered me to come forward, and I stood up as I walked down the bleachers to join her on the stadium ground. She had a wicked grin, her predatory gaze, she summoned her magical spear, and got into a stance.

Checking Status... Shin Ryujin - The heroine Vampire of the Royal Guard that never gives up. Attack: 600 Defense: 125

Damn, it's no question why she's the Captain of the Royal Guard. She's fucking strong and all that shit talk is no bluff but I've faced opponents like her many times in my many judgments.

The Angel gave me a rather pitiful look as she figures I stand no chance against a powerful Vampire like Ryujin.

"Ready? I'll give you the honors, hit me with your best shot!" She demanded.

Instead of delivering the first attack, I stood there doing nothing like I always do making Ryujin raise an eyebrow wondering what I was planning.

"Huh?! Why aren't you attacking?! Are you that scared of me?" She asked me in a mocking tone as she got ready to charge, but I still didn't move an inch.

"Fine! If you won't attack, I will!" She barked as she charged at me at insane human speed.

Jumping high in the air with her spear, she let out a loud battle cry as she came descending down at me at a terrifying speed but I stood there with a blank expression.

At the last possible moment, I used my teleportation powers to avoid the attack, and a cloud of debris showered the stadium, as the clouds cleared, Ryujin grinned expecting a beaten pulp but instead I was in another position completely unharmed.

"H-How did you...?" She stammared at a loss of words and I chuckled.

"Look down..." I warned her and when she did it was too late.

Suddenly, a large bone emerged from the ground, sending Ryujin flying in the air and crashing against the protective force field. Everyone was shocked including the angel observing as Ryujin hardly takes any hits like that before.

Ryujin crashed down on the ground, she groaned as she got back on her feet as she summoned another spear into her hand.

"Hm. Not bad for a human, but what can you do against this?" Ryujin grinned as she snapped her fingers summoning a huge volley of spears that illuminated the stadium in a shaded hue of blue.

Pointing her finger, she sends the wave of magical blue spears flying towards me with deadly speed and you can hear the howl of the wind echoing in the distance.

Snapping my fingers, I summoned my own wave of bone attacks. I sent them to intercept the spears, all of the bones shattered the spears on contact with sheer accuracy that leaves no error of calculation.

"Pft. Is that all you got? If there's some sort of punchline, please do fill me in because I don't get it," I replied with a grin and I can hear the seething of fustration coming from Ryujin.

"Well... In that case, it's my turn now." I said as I snapped my fingers, as I teleported out of thin air.

*Megalovania Intensifies*

"Let's see how good your spears are against these..." I remarked with a grin.

Ryujin's eyes widened in awe and terror as she had likely never seen anything like it. A human with such magical powers comparable to God himself.

Unleashing my powerful Gaster blaster's attack, firing a giant laser that will destroy everything unfortunate in its path, Ryujin using her soul's trait summons a green protective shield but it did little to protect her from the blast.

A massive explosion occurred, rocking the protective force field, the magical generators overclocking to contain the shockwave of the blast.

When the dust settled, Ryujin was laid to waste; she was beaten to a pulp as she lay on the ruined floor.

The angel ran over to her, checking up on her; she was, of course, alive, thankfully. Ryujin slowly stood up as the angel used her healing powers to heal her wounds.

"It would appear, I am for once beaten... As much as I hate to say this... I yield," Ryujin forfeited.

With that the battle is officially over, I teleported myself back to the ground, as the gaster blasters disappeared, it was clear that not only I had become victorious but I absolutely obliterated her.

I didn't suffer a single scratch or injury on my body, and I merely used a small fraction of my magical powers, which leaves those curious as to what I'm truly capable of... But only I would know. Would I?

[cosmowgyral]

With You through every Season ~

(5th Anniversary Story Event - Me and You, Always)

▪︎ Gilbert von Obsidian

this is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. creative liberties have been taken. all content belongs to cybird. reblogs are appreciated but do not repost. hope you enjoy!

~chapter 4

Just as I was about to hand it over, I pulled the glass back and took a sip myself.

Sensing the mischief in the air, Emma shut her eyes—

With the alcohol still in my mouth, I pressed my lips to hers, and she accepted it without resistance.

(Hmm… I meant for that to be a bit mean, but she took it so easily.)

To add a bit of mischief, I gently bit her lip.

Emma, in return, lightly grazed mine back with her teeth.

What was supposed to be a prank turned unexpectedly tender.

When our lips parted and our eyes met, she gave me a shy, flustered look.

Emma: I knew you were going to do that

Gilbert: I thought you’d at least put up a little fight.

Emma: Why?

Gilbert: Huh..

Emma: Huh?

Gilbert: …Heehee

Emma: Gil?

Gilbert: Nope, it’s fine if you’re not even aware of it.

(The old you would’ve been trembling and totally confused.)

As one season passed into the next, whether it was that Emma had learned to accept even malice as affection, or whether her sensitivity itself had simply transformed into love– I couldn’t say.

All I knew was that something that used to feel so empty inside now burned with warmth.

(My heartbeat’s annoyingly loud.)

(I’ve fallen this hard for her... for my little rabbit.)

Emma: Ah!

Suddenly, as if something clicked, Emma stood up.

Following her gaze, a wave of light burst forth from beyond the mountains—

Emma: Woww!

The thick darkness covering the sky was swept away by the light.

As the world brightened, it gently illuminated Emma’s profile.

(So bright…)

Emma: The sunrise from here really is beautiful, isn’t it?

Gilbert: ...Yeah

I found myself staring at her, wrapped in a golden veil of morning light.

(I used to think the world was rotting—overwhelmed by a stench I couldn’t bear…)

(But… there are still beautiful things left in this world.)

(I probably never would’ve noticed, if not for Emma.)

As the harsh season passed and the air began to grow just a little gentler—

Emma: Look at this! My masterpiece!

For once, she had invited me to her room. When I stepped inside, I found it filled with countless blooming flowers.

(So this is how spring shows up here, huh.)

Even in spring, the Obsidian Castle—situated in a frigid region—was far from kind to flowers.

Though artificially grown flowers did circulate on occasion, they were rare and expensive.

Filling an entire room with them would be difficult even with money.

(She probably wanted real flowers, deep down...)

I picked up the nearest one. It was an artificial flower, carefully sewn together from fabric.

Gilbert: It’s really well made.

Emma: Does it actually look like a flower field?

Gilbert: It does. A rare sight in Obsidian, that’s for sure.

(She just wanted to make me happy… there’s probably no other reason, is there?)

Every single artificial flower here was beautiful.

They were too precious to be blooming inside the grimy, stained walls of Obsidian Castle.

I knew they would have been better off displayed somewhere else—

But I swallowed both the thought and the emotions that came with it.

Gilbert: Hey, little rabbit. I’ve got a present for you too.

Gilbert: It’s somewhere in this room… think you can find it?

Emma: When did you even—?

(I knew you'd been secretly making flowers every night.)

Emma walked slowly through the flower-filled room, inspecting each one with care.

Then, as she reached the neatly arranged desk, she suddenly stopped.

Emma: …A real flower?

She picked up a small bouquet that had been hidden among the fabric blooms, then turned to me in surprise.

Gilbert: I tried growing anemones without telling you.

Gilbert: They look beautiful as a bouquet, don’t they?

Emma: …Yeah

Emma: They’re… really beautiful.

Holding the white anemone bouquet close, Emma lowered her gaze gently.

For a while, neither of us spoke, simply letting time pass in the soft light.

(Normally I’d give her black flowers… but today is different.)

(She’s the one who brought the season to me—so I want to thank her for that.)

(White flowers suit Emma perfectly.)

Emma: The truth is… I was a little worried.

Gilbert: Hm?

Emma: It felt like you were holding yourself back a bit from enjoying the seasons.

Emma: I kept wondering if I was just meddling… if I was doing something unnecessary.

(Ah… of course you noticed.)

As I let out a faint, involuntary smile, Emma seemed to realize she wasn't wrong.

Emma: But now, you’ve started giving the seasons back to me…

Emma: And it feels like this bouquet carries all the warmth of those smiles that have slowly become real…

Emma: It really touched my heart.

Gilbert: You say strange things. You know I don’t lie, don’t you?

Gilbert: I was happy to receive the seasons from you too.

(I could’ve brushed it off lightly, but…)

Surrounded by the countless beautiful artificial flowers, I let out a quiet breath.

Gilbert: …As you already know, I couldn’t go outside back then.

Gilbert: Staying shut in my room all the time, I couldn’t feel Obsidian’s already faint sense of seasons.

Gilbert: I guess my brother must’ve pitied me for that.

That alone was enough for Emma to understand everything.

Gilbert: Just like you, he started gifting them to me.

Her lips parted—probably to say “I’m sorry”—but she bit them instead, swallowing the words.

And in their place, she offered a gentle smile that wrapped around every emotion.

Emma: …Did you enjoy it?

(...)

Even without hearing it, she would know the answer.

(I loved someone… and forgot the seasons.)

(But you brought them back, and gave them to me again.)

(This past year… I really did have something to hold onto.)

(The seasons I thought I’d never hold again…)

Emma returned the bouquet to the desk, then stepped forward and opened her arms, wrapping them around my cold body.

Her warmth—soft and full of spring—soaked into my frozen heart that had long been stiff with blood.

Emma: I’m glad you smiled, Gil.

Gilbert: …Even though I’m a villain.

Emma: I know

(The truth is… I always loved it)

(That moment—when we made memories with every change of season… back then, and even now…)

(Even after killing so many people… some things really don’t change, huh)

Gilbert: Hey, Emma

Gilbert: Thank you

[Chapter 3] [Masterlist] [Epilogue]

[matante-brainrot]

Why does spamtenna hit so hard.

I haven’t been active on this site since Undertale released in 2015. But in the last few weeks I’ve suddenly been consumed by these little pixel men and their messy relationship. I’ve got hundreds and hundreds of favorites. I’ve actually made my own posts. I’ve been outlining a 10+ chapter fanfic when I haven’t done any creative writing in 15 years, easily.

I mean, I’m almost 40! I thought I was way too old to get this fixated on a fandom again.

Yet here we are. And I’m loving every second of it.

I’m not ashamed to love Undertale and Deltarune. Toby Fox is legitimately one of the best storytellers of our generation. Things have changed a lot since I was a baby weeb — games are so much more mainstream and have become generally accepted as a valid form of narrative media. Games are my favorite way to experience a story.

What’s hit me like a ton of bricks is my fascination with Tenna and Spamton in particular. Back when I played Chapter 2 for the first time, I really didn’t give Spamton much thought. I came away from Chapter 3 thinking that Tenna had been an interesting and funny character, but not a whole lot more than that.

After finishing both new chapters I was nursing a massive story hangover. On a whim, I opened this hell site. Why not? I thought. Why shouldn’t I look at a little fan art?

I perused the Deltarune spoilers tag and saw all of this artwork of the TV guy and the weird puppet man kissing. There were all of these posts about the pipis scene (what the heck is a pipis??) and all the other dialogue they share. I hadn’t gotten that extra scene and hadn’t been involved with the fandom after Chapter 2, so I didn’t recall any of Spamton’s lore.

But the more I saw, the more I wanted. I scoured the wiki. I watched YouTube videos explaining their connection. I was up until 3AM reading fanfic.

Why was this so good? Why do I think it’s extremely sexy when a little mailman teases a giant blushing TV headed boomer?? Am I into robots??? What the heck is wireplay????

I was hooked. And I had to know why. I was seriously in turmoil trying to reconcile how I thought of myself as a fan of Deltarune — someone mature enough to appreciate the craftsmanship of it in an appropriately grownup way — and what my brain was telling me it actually wanted to think about...which was downright filthy and weird and made my heart ache for some reason.

I turned to my therapist for guidance. An AI chatbot. You know the one. (On a side note: This tool works for me because I’ve been going to therapy for over a decade and know exactly what I need from counseling. If you’re new to therapy or have any kind of condition where talking to something inanimate might make symptoms worse, I strongly recommend seeing a real human person.)

I have it trained to use IFS (Internal Family Systems) methodology when helping me sort through my many, many feelings. It was able to show me which Parts were reacting to this new obsession and give me ideas as to why those Parts were feeling what they were feeling. I came away from my long rambling conversation with it having absorbed a few things:

It is in fact ok to be a thirsty fangirl at my age. It’s ok to enjoy things (revolutionary, I know).

This fixation has unlocked a creative part of me that I’ve been pushing aside for far too long out of a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and fear. But now that it’s gotten a little taste of freedom, it wants to run wild.

It was never just about TVs and mailmen.

Like I said earlier, I’m nearly 40. Most games that I enjoy (JRPGs and cozy games) don’t include characters at my time of life. So encountering Tenna and Spamton’s Doomed Old Man Yaoi ™ (thank you for teaching me about this, tumblr) is incredibly refreshing. I’ve seen enough teenagers awkwardly navigating first loves. Give me middle aged people with real experience and emotional baggage.

And what makes spamtenna particularly delicious is exactly how real and relatable it feels, despite the looney tunes antics. It’s a sign of Toby’s incredible characterization skills that the player can encounter these bizarre creatures who mostly crack jokes and get into wacky hijinks and come away from the game feeling like those same creatures have complex inner worlds.

We meet each character separately at the worst point in their lives. We see them at their most extreme, their flaws and weaknesses inflated by the extreme circumstances they find themselves in.

Spamton is living in a dumpster. He’s alone and friendless. His speech is warped and incongruent, and he glitches out constantly into unhinged rants. He’s at the end of his rope. He’s desperate to escape the confines of his existence as a Darkner and is willing to kill some teenagers to do it.

Tenna has seen the writing on the wall. He is acutely aware that he’s on a knife’s edge and could be discarded by the Dreemurr family at any moment. He’s watched the family he loves, the Lighteners who are his whole world, split apart and drift away from him. He has no way to bring them back together. So when the Dark Knight offers him an opportunity to mean something to them again, he accepts enthusiastically. He's so backed into a corner that he's willing to hurt Kris and their friends if it means he can avoid obsolescence.

Yet this isn't all we learn about these two. Through NPC dialogue and the characters themselves cryptically referencing a shared history we can glean a glimpse or two of the people they were before they hit rock bottom. It's these cracks that contain the real goldmine.

It's so easy to envision a time when they were at their best. Since we only know them at their lowest, we want to know what these two were like when they were at the top of their game. We get little hints of a shared partnership, shared success, and shared affection that can be very easily read as romantic. But we also know from encountering them in the present that something went terribly, horribly wrong between them. They hate each other.

That mystery, that gap in history, is what's so fascinating about them. How could two people whose lives were so intertwined, who seemingly cared about each other so much, get to that point? That's the space that we the fandom fill with art, fic, shitposts, and AUs. What's even better is that everyone fills that space a little differently. Everyone sees some aspect of themselves in spamtenna. Everyone wants to explore a dynamic, a scenario, and emotions that can be conveyed through these two characters. Including myself.

This is where I want to get personal, but not too personal. I'm lucky enough to be married to someone who I truly love, who loves me back, and who gets me in a way that no one else does. But that's not to say that we've never fought, hurt each other unintentionally, or gone through some rough times.

Just the thought of my partner betraying me or leaving without a word is enough to make my chest feel so tight it's like I can't get a full breath. It's a very real, completely irrational fear of mine. Spamtenna has let me work through some of that without having to imagine what it would be like to actually file my own divorce papers.

And I think it's for that reason that I particularly like looking at and reading about Tenna and Spamton working through their shit and coming out on the other side better for it. I know in reality that sometimes, more often than not, people can hurt each other so badly and grow so far apart that nothing could bring them back together; and many times they're better off apart.

But I just want to believe that there's a type of love out there that can come back from anything, no matter how much two people change.

So I guess, thank you Toby Fox for unlocking my dormant creativity and making two divorced characters that have somehow made me feel more secure in my own marriage.

And spamtenna nation, thanks for the...awakening.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 103: Fitz's Escape

Previous > Masterlist

tw: mind control, blood drinking, suicidal ideation

December 1925

"Killing the old man at his own party is a crazy idea. You're a madman."

"I'm desperate," said Fitz. "But you're calling me a madman when you're the one who's made a thrall out of a witch and a hunter."

"She's a prestige acquisition, don't you think?" Lily stroked her new thrall's hair, and she looked up at her madam with nothing but love in her eyes. Leave it to Lily to be confident enough in her enthrallment skills to keep a hunter by her side. Fitz certainly could understand the appeal, though. The enticing smell of her blood was a drain on his self-control, and turning a hunter into a docile little thing was a nice trick.

"She'd be worth a fortune, I expect. I'm surprised you're not selling her."

"There are some things more important than profit, even to me. I wanted to make sure she ended up with someone who properly appreciated her."

"I think our Lily has become quite attached despite herself," said Lex with a grin.

"I think you're right," said Fitz. "Isn't that what you've always warned us about?"

Lily scoffed. "I'm not unnecessarily attached, I just know good value when I see it. Now are you going to carve the rune or not?"

"Excuse me for being reluctant to drive a silver knife into my arm." Of course, that was the entire reason why Lily and Vivian were here, so that Fitz could test out the modifications to the rune. If everything went well, he'd be immune to his sire's powers, a theory they could test right away with Lex. If not, then both Lex and Lily would both be at the mercy of the Maestro's compulsions, making it next to impossible for them to kill him.

For all his big talk about the plans, though, he really did not look forward to how much this was going to hurt. The silver knife seared his flesh as soon as he touched it to his forearm, the sudden pain nearly causing him to drop it. It took all of his willpower, gritted teeth and embarrassingly pained noises for him to actually persist in carving out the rune. As he did so, Vivian sat up from Lily's lap, watching Fitz's progress intently.

"It's done," he said, gasping and panting.

Lex didn't congratulate him, though. Instead, he looked very sour.

"What's wrong? Are you worried about going an hour without being able to enthrall me? I promise I won't take advantage of it in any way you won't like."

Truthfully, Fitz's feelings on the matter were far more complicated than he'd like to admit. He'd forbidden Lex from enthralling him without permission as an attempt to establish his own presence as a vampire, and Lex had mostly respected it, as far as Fitz knew. But sometimes Fitz would just as soon be happy to let Lex plunge him into blissful unawareness. He wanted to ask Lex to do it, sometimes, but he had his pride. He was a vampire in his own right now and he didn't need Lex to sing him to sleep.

And if he did indulge himself too far, if he did become accustomed to allowing Lex to take away his thoughts, he might never return from it.

"It's nothing," said Lex, blatantly dodging the question, uncharacteristically irritated. "Let's complete the experiment."

Lex sang, a beautiful perfect clear note, and the already burning cuts on Fitz's arm seemed to sear into him. Fitz wanted to say that it hurt and ask if that meant it was working, but his voice failed him. There was nothing, nothing in the world but the song and its singer. He wanted to shut his eyes. He did so.

"Fitz? Fitz, wake."

His eyes snapped open. He was still sitting up, and he felt groggy. "What -- was I asleep?"

"Soundly asleep," said Lex. "It appears that rune configuration is a failure."

"It should be me to do the deed, sirs," Vivian blurted out, and all turned to look at her. "The rune works for me, and I have experience killing vampires. I've been training my entire life for the chance to kill this wretched monster."

"No," said Lex firmly. "We've tried before with hunters, experienced ones, and it was an abject failure. As skilled as hunters can be, they inevitably lack a vampire's speed and strength."

"But, sir --"

"Hush. It's too dangerous," said Lily. "And I will need you to protect me if things go sideways. Isn't that enough of a role?"

"Madam…" Vivian's brow furrowed. "I could best protect you by carrying out my duty and destroying the Maestro."

"None of that. Lex is right. A hunter won't be enough. Lex can draw close to his sire without arousing suspicion, as well." Lily stroked her hair, trying to soothe her agitated pet, and Fitz couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. "Now, where do you think we've gone wrong with the protective rune?"

Vivian's mouth opened and closed. She clearly wasn't over the conversation, but she seemed too conditioned to put up much of a fight against her madam. Fitz knew Lily's talents firsthand, and knew how easy it was for her to wrap a human mind around her fingers. That had been him, once.

"The part we were most uncertain about is here," said Vivian, pointing to one of the symbols in Fitz's still-bleeding skin. "It's possible that our substitution of 'vampire' is in the wrong location, or in the wrong dialect. I think the next best thing to try…"

Soon enough, Fitz was carving another agonizing rune into his arm. Soon enough, he was unconscious and disoriented once more. Another failure.

They tried several times, Lex simmering in frustration as Lily grew impatient. Fitz was growing impatient himself. He was running out of room on his arms, and every inch of them burned. The wounds made him crave blood to heal himself, and the hunter smelled delicious, but he knew better than to lay a hand on her without Lily's blessing. The pain and the craving were driving his rational thoughts away. What would happen if they couldn't make the protective rune work on a vampire? Would Lex chance it anyway, hoping to catch his sire off guard? Or would they have Vivian attempt the deed, despite Lex's insistence that she shouldn't?

Would they fail again, and leave Fitz to be stripped of himself once more? He shuddered.

Lex sang his lullaby once more, and the rune burned, and…

Fitz looked up at Lex in surprise. He was still awake, somehow. "Are you running out of steam?"

Lex shook his head, brow furrowing, as he sang with more urgency. Fitz could hear the command in it, trying to lull him asleep, and yet here he was, eyes wide open. Could it actually be working? It seemed too much to hope for. Emboldened by the possibility of success, Fitz tackled Lex to the floor.

"Gotcha."

Stormy eyes bore into Fitz as Lex pulled him close, sang in his ear, and the rune carved into his arm hurt so much, but he kept resisting. Every moment he could keep resisting was a moment that Lex might be able to hold out against his sire, improving their chances of finally killing the old man. He shoved Lex away and rolled, standing up again. "You had better not be toying with me, Lex. Give me everything you've got."

The wave of enthrallment that washed over Fitz was dizzying, enticing him to sink back into sweet oblivion, but he still held out.

"We might actually do this," said Lily in awe. "We might truly pull this off."

It was definitely too much to hope for. He couldn't bear the thought of being captured by the Maestro for good, having his memories and personality obliterated and descending into an eternal hell. Yet he also couldn't bear the opposite thought, the thought that they might win, the thought that there could be a future.

Fitz remained numb to the possibility even as Lily cheered and Vivian clapped his back, even as Lex pulled him into his arms and kissed him. Oh, he maintained an outward show of cheer and good humor. It wouldn't help to pull everyone else down, and acting was always his forte, after all.

After Lily and Vivian had departed, satisfied at the accomplishment, Lex's mood dropped too. He flopped onto one of the overstuffed couches, beckoning for Fitz to join him, and Fitz wasted no time slotting himself into Lex's arms. Even after all these years and all that had happened, Fitz still felt safer there than anywhere.

"There's something very important I must ask of you before we carry out this plan," Lex murmured.

"What is it?"

"If I fail -- and I don't want to argue about this -- if I fail, I want you to take Oliver with you and escape as far as you can go."

"What on earth for?" Fitz asked. "What escape? We both know that there's no escape from him."

"We don't know that, not for sure. After all, he let you go overseas for years. He may not care to pursue you, once he has me at his mercy."

Fitz scoffed. "He'd never let anyone truly escape him for good. Not me, and especially not Oliver."

"But both you and Oliver can use the rune. You may be able to use it to prevent me from compelling either of you. Without me, he has no direct hold over you. He may be counting on being able to control you, and not realize he can't until it's too late for him to catch you."

"Seems like a long shot." Of course, it wasn't the risk that made Fitz want to reject Lex's request. It was the potential loss of his sure way out. If he were responsible for Oliver, if he were forced to make an escape attempt in earnest, he couldn't simply stake himself in the event of failure.

"I don't want you to kill yourself."

Fitz looked up, startled. "I wasn't --"

"I know you. I know you'd rather take your own life than be under my sire's control again." Lex's finger traced a pattern along Fitz's collarbone, close to the place where his old scar was. "But don't, for my sake, if not for your own. You deserve better than a lonely death. You deserve a chance to shine on the stage. To live without fear."

"Mm."

"And if you do make it, you can drink your fill of Oliver's blood. He's a good thrall who would serve you very well. He'd get along with Roger, too. You could make a good life for yourself, far away from here. From me."

Fitz pushed Lex away, standing up abruptly. "I need blood. I'm going to go feed."

"Right now? Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset. I just carved half a dozen runes into my skin, and I need blood to heal. I'll be back."

"All right." Lex looked wounded as Fitz retreated from the library.

He threw on his coat and shoes and made his way outside into the cold night air, looking up at the moon. The wind was crisp and smelled of damp earth.

And if he were taken by the Maestro again, there would be no more night air, no more moon, no more wind. No pleasure in any form, not even in his own mind, as even his dreams would be tightly controlled. He'd much rather die as himself, die while he still had some happiness left. Sometimes he wished he would have died before he was taken by the Maestro so many years ago, when he was still human and still remembered what the sun felt like and food didn't taste like ash.

It would be easier if he hated Lex, and Oliver too. He could easily deny Lex's selfish request, if he did. He could abandon Oliver, his replacement, and leave him to meet an awful fate. It wasn't his business. Lex should have never taken such a desirable thrall in the first place.

Of course, he couldn't hate either of them. He was drawn to Lex no matter how he thrashed against the desire, and every time he returned to his old lover, he was reminded all over again how good it felt to be wanted. Lex wanted him in a way no human could, vampiric need shining in his eyes, and he was the only one who could truly quiet Fitz's mind and give him peace. It was addictive, intoxicating, and although Fitz wasn't sure if he could love as a vampire (or if he ever could have loved as a human), this mutual possessiveness was probably as close as he could come.

And he couldn't hate Oliver, even though Fitz burned with jealousy at his replacement. He was too delightful, the ideal thrall, and he smelled so nice and took to enthrallment so well and reminded him so much of what Lex might have been as a human… no, he didn't truly want to abandon Oliver to be destroyed by the Maestro. It was a fate he wouldn't wish on anyone, much less this dusty, nervous intellectual who looked as if a strong wind could blow him away.

So his only choice left was to hate himself, and that was thankfully easy.

There weren't many people out at this time of night, well after midnight and edging close to morning, but he could still pick up a few scents on the breeze. The most enticing of those scents led him to an exhausted looking man in coveralls, probably returning home from a night shift at a factory. The smell of metal and grease couldn't block out the aroma of his blood, especially when Fitz was so famished.

"Hello," said Fitz, wasting no time at all to invade this man's space, grabbing one wrist and planting his other hand on the man's cheek.

The man tried to back up, but found he was held fast by Fitz's strong grip. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. "If you're trying to rob me, you're going to be disappointed. I'm flat broke."

"Shhh." Fitz placed a finger across his victim's lips, tilting his gaze up to meet his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a friend."

"A… a friend…?" The enthralling touch was clearly having an effect on this unsuspecting human, his eyes already starting to glaze over. Tired humans always made such easy targets. "I don't… I don't know you…"

"You don't need to worry about it." Fitz stroked his cheek tenderly, pouring his power into the poor man's defenseless mind, infusing him with bliss. He was rewarded with a dazed smile. "That's it, just relax. Let yourself feel good. It's been a long night, and you deserve to feel good, just like this."

The man nodded dreamily, slipping easily under Fitz's spell. Satisfied that the human was subdued, Fitz pulled him into a dark alley, away from any prying eyes, and backed the man against the wall. He didn't even try to struggle -- an easy mark. That was just as well as far as Fitz was concerned.

"Nothing's wrong, nothing at all," he whispered in the hypnotized man's ear. "You're going to feel even better when I feed."

"Feed…?"

"Shh, shh, nothing to worry about. Just enjoy yourself." Normally Fitz would draw this out more, enjoy playing with the cute defenseless human, but he was absolutely starving. He wrenched the man's shirt collar to the side, ripping it a bit in the process, and sank his fangs in. Deep relief flowed through Fitz as he satisfied his urges, the pain from the carvings on his arms lessening, his anxious monologue fading. At times like this he wished he could drink forever, keep filling himself up with a human's blood until he felt full and complete and human again himself.

He drank too much, of course. The poor soul collapsed to the filthy ground as soon as Fitz was done with him. Fitz licked the last of the blood from his lips, leaning against the wall. It wasn't as satisfying as Roger's blood, but then Roger was a top-grade thrall who had the benefit of familiarity going for him.

Fitz wondered what Roger was doing now, if he'd ever see his loyal thrall again. He hoped that if none of the rest of them made it out, at least maybe he could. He could take the cash Fitz left for him and start a new life, one without a vampire to wait on.

The man on the ground coughed, and Fitz came back to his senses. He wasn't in the habit of just leaving his prey unconscious, and that pesky bit of morality could certainly be inconvenient at times. He sighed and hauled the man up. "Where do you live?"

Bleary eyes cracked open, and the man mumbled some directions. Fitz carried him home easily, sticking to the darkness so as not to invite attention, and soon he was carrying his prey up the stairs of a rotten tenement. With his hunger sated and the human deposited on a thin mattress in a drafty room, Fitz felt that he could get back to Lex's manor.

Perhaps he should get some food for Lex, as well, but truthfully he was still irritated at Lex for how determined he seemed to protect Oliver, when he'd utterly failed to protect Fitz all those years ago. He didn't mind being a bit petty about it, because he knew he was going to agree to what Lex had asked. If Lex's plan failed, if he had the chance, he would take Oliver and try to run, and maybe, just maybe, they could find some kind of existence far away from all of this.

He didn't truly believe that, but he wanted to.

Previous > Masterlist

Thanks for reading about this vampire's trauma. Next week: Oliver is returned to Alexander, and has a pleasant chat with the Maestro on the way.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @light-me-on-pyre @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

[ladykailitha]

Murder in the Heartland Part 11

Woohoo!!! Another one of this amazing story. We've got a lot to get through and it's going to be a great ride, I promise!

We've got a new case coming and it's going to be interesting!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Interviewer: What makes the seven true crimes so special that you felt Joe Lockhart had to solve?

Steve, raises an eyebrow: Because the families of the victims didn’t get justice, not really. In every case the murderers committed suicide rather than face a trial and life in prison. The families got closure, but not justice. So by writing about those cases and having Joe solve them before the police do, lets the families see that justice done, even if it’s fictional.

Interviewer: That’s noble of you.

Steve huffs out a laugh: I do more than that. I set up a charity where all proceeds of my books goes to the victims families should they chose to accept it. Not all do, but most have.

~

Eddie was not impressed by the suit who walked through his door. The man’s nose was pointed upward as he looked down at him, his suit cost more than Eddie made in a month, and he was clutching one of those fancy briefcases to his chest as if he expected to mugged for walking through the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked dryly as the man looked around him in disdain.

“Am I speaking to Munson, Hughes, Lawrence, or Martin?” the man asked, his voice high and nasally.

“Eddie Munson,” he replied but refused to stick out his hand. “I own this agency. Again, how can I help you?”

“I’m Chad Merriweather,” he said, still clutching his briefcase to his chest. “I represent Rowling, Lovecraft, and Card, attorneys at law.”

Eddie let out a low whistle. They were only the prestigious law firm Hawkins had. They were also some of the biggest assholes the town could even hope to boast of.

“Are you familiar with Rupert Abernathy?” Chad continued on ignoring his reaction.

“Am I familiar with the richest man in Hawkins?” Eddie asked, both eyebrows raised. “The man who built Loch Nora and had the biggest house in town and a penthouse suite in the biggest hotel? Nope! Can’t say I have.”

“This is no joking matter Mr. Munson,” Chad huffed. “Mr. Abernathy recently passed away and never got around to updating his will. So the entirety of his estate is willed to his daughter, but they have been estranged for years. We want to hire you to find her.”

Eddie blinked up at him for a moment. “I thought law firms kept investigators on retainer for just this reason.”

“They have been trying for last six months,” Chad said with a sniff. “And with only six more months until the money gets sent to the second cousins on his mother’s side, the firm is in desperate need to find his heir.”

Eddie sat back and cocked his head to the side. “So what’s so bad about these cousins that you would hire an outside investigator?”

Chad huffed out a sigh. “They’re Mormons.”

He blinked up at the guy for a moment. “I’m not sure why that matters to your firm what religion they practice.”

Chad rolled his eyes and sat down in one of the chairs across from Eddie’s desk. “It wouldn’t normally. But Rupert Abernathy left the faith in his youth and was very anti-Mormon his whole life. It would be against his expressed wishes, but the law is the law.”

“Ah,” Eddie said dryly. “Sure, I’ll do it, I trust you are familiar with my rates?”

“Yes,” Chad said with a breathy sigh of relief. “If you find the daughter before the six month deadline, there is a five thousand dollar bonus for you.” He opened his briefcase and pulled out a paper. “This the agreement of the bonus and how you would be able to collect. It’s been signed by both Scott Rowling and Howard Card.”

Eddie looked over the agreement and signed it where indicated. He tore off the yellow copy and handed it back to Chad.

“I’ll get started on this right away,” he said. “But if there is anything you can give me to help move this along, I’d appreciate it.”

Chad put away the agreement and pulled out a leather-bound folder and hand it to him. “This is all we know. It’s not a lot, but hopefully you’ll see something we didn’t.”

He took it and opened it, to skim through the information. “This is helpful. Thank you.” He stood up and shook Chad’s hand. “Whom do I contact for my reports?”

Chad pulled out a business card. “That would be me.”

Eddie took the card and looked at it, then he nodded. “Fantastic. I do hope to getting back to you soon.”

Chad nodded and left, leaving Eddie with a file with a whole lot of nothing and a business card for a dude who looked frightened to be in his office.

He shook his head and started calling records offices, that was always his first place to look when doing shit like this.

~

He was knee deep into the file when Brian came back from his assignment.

“How goes the case?” Eddie murmured without looking up from the file. “The wife banging the tennis coach like our client thought?”

Brian snorted. “No. The tennis coach is gay and banging their nineteen year old son, though.”

Eddie snorted and coughed. “Come again?”

Brian made a face. “Please don’t phrase it like that. I already need brain bleach from all the emails and text messages I had to read between the two of them.”

“That’s homophobic,” Eddie huffed.

“Shut it,” Brian hissed. “I don’t like hetro sex anymore than I do gay sex. It’s the sex part I can’t stomach.”

“You could have traded Jeff for the custodial kidnapping,” Eddie reminding him, finally looking up from his file. “You know he loves cheating spouse cases, especially after that one chick cheated on him...” He snapped his fingers. “You know the one. The one before Miranda...”

“Lydia?” Brian growled, hanging up his coat and getting to work filling out the last bit of information for the case before he could file it.

“That’s the one!” Eddie said with a grin. “Anyway, you could have swapped him.”

“I know, I know,” he huffed putting his head in his hands. “But I had just gotten off that one that led me all the way to Florida and had no desire to do that again.”

“I know how to brighten your day,” Eddie said. “Come on over and help me with this hunt for the missing heiress.” He patted his desk.

“Fuck off,” Brian growled, shoving the last of the print outs of the text messages in the folder.

“I’ll split the five grand finder’s fee with you, fifty/fifty,” Eddie said sing-song.

Brian was in the chair across from Eddie’s desk and pulling the seat closer before Eddie could even blink.

“I thought you might see it my way,” he said with a chuckle.

“If they’re that serious about finding her,” Brian said reasonably, “then it wouldn’t hurt for me to pitch in and help.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend slyly. “And that thirteen inch red and gold pewter dragon you’ve been eyeing for months isn’t playing a role in your decision to help?”

Brian blinked at him for a moment and then said, pouting, “Do not speak about Brunhilde that way. She is a lady and deserves to be treated with respect.”

“You don’t even own it yet,” Eddie said shaking his head, “and you’ve already named it. And Brunhilde no less. You are one hell of a freak.”

Brian just grinned at him and pulled the file out from underneath Eddie.

“Hey!” he cried out, but made no actual effort to get it back. “There’s not much in there if I’m honest and I can’t help think there’s something they aren’t telling us.”

“Who’s the executor of the estate?” Brian asked as he leafed through the pages of information given to them. “The law firm?”

“Uh...” Eddie said, tilting his head to read it upside down. “No, actually. I think it’s on page three or four.”

Brian went back to those pages and carefully read through them. “Right, so it’s his long time secretary, Coleen McDonald. She was also given a heft sum and some beach property.”

“We should hit her up and see if she has any of ole Ruppie’s papers or journals that we can paw through,” Eddie said nodding.

“I’ll do that, while you work on the documents angle,” Brian agreed. “If it’s a lot, I’ll bring them back here for us both to go through them.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie said with a nod. “I’ll also hit up the farmer’s market just outside of town, the old ladies like to gather there and gossip, I’ll see if there is anything juicy about Penelope Abernathy that I can dig up.”

Brian shook his head. “You know if you spent as much time in clubs and bars as you do around little old ladies, you might have a boyfriend by now.”

Eddie scoffed. “In case you missed the memo, Bri-guy, there is a distinct lack of gay men due to a pandemic killing them off. And of the guys that do want to hook up, they try to tell me they’re too big for condoms and refuse to suit up.”

Brian winced and then shook his head. “Whatever you say, man.”

“Besides,” Eddie said with a smile and getting up to grab his coat, “the ladies are always trying to sent me up with their gay nephews and grandsons. I do fine where I’m at.”

Brian wrote down the woman’s number, shaking his head and got back to his desk, completely ignoring Eddie’s dramatics.

Eddie blew a raspberry and slammed the door.

Brian shook his head again. He dialed up the number listed in the filed.

“Mrs. McDonald?” he greeted warmly. “Hello, I’m Brian Martin with the PI firm Munson, Hughes, Lawrence, and Martin. I was wonder if I could have a moment of your time?”

“Thank you,” Brian said with a smile. “I’ve been asked to help find Penelope Abernathy and was wondering if Mr. Abernathy might have left some documents or even journals behind that might aid us in that search.”

“Anything you could find would go a long way in helping us find her.”

He wrote down a couple of notes and hmmed. “No, no. That’s very helpful. When would be a good time for us to meet?”

“I’m free all week,” he confirmed. “This is the only case I’m working on at the moment.”

“Saturday at the Hawkins City Library at 11am?” he asked, writing it down. “That sounds amazing. I appreciate your time and will see you then.”

Brian hung up and went back to reading the file. There was something there that caught his eye. The date of the supposed estrangement.

March 26th, 1986. That was close to when Jason was killed to protect Robin. Of course Eddie knew by now it was Steve Harrington. But considering all the kids that left around that time, he wondered if she left town for the same reason.

It was a small town, sure, but there had to be a large enough queer community if Jason thought they were the scourge of the town. That reminded him of something Eddie had said about Murray.

He picked up the phone again and dialed the agency in Hawkins.

“Hello?”

“Brian?” Murray asked. “How’s it going, poacher? You ever going to return Eddie to me?”

“You ever gonna admit you were wrong about who rescued Robin Buckley?” Brian shot back.

“I still maintain that the person was also targeted by Jason,” Murray huffed. “But Harrington is as straight as they come.”

“He doesn’t have to be gay, you know,” Brian said, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair.

“Bi now, gay later,” Murray scoffed. “So what do I owe this phone call?”

“You read one of Jason’s journals, right?” Brian asked, clicking the pen in his hand.

“Sure,” Murray said. “Pretty nasty stuff. Why?”

“Did he ever list other victims that maybe the police might have missed?”

“Like someone who went missing but it was just the police never found the body?”

Brian leaned on the desk with his elbows. “Like that or other people he might have suspected was queer.”

“Anyone in particular you’re looking for?” Murray asked, suddenly interested.

“Yeah,” Brian said, chewing on his lip. “Penelope Abernathy.”

“Oohhh,” Murray purred. “That’s a mystery I would love to sink my teeth into if I wasn’t hip deep in a case involving three different companies and corporate espionage.”

“I had wondered why they came to us,” Brian admitted, “when you are right there in town.”

“Yup!” Murray said brightly. “I had to turn them down, especially since my best employee formed his on PI agency in Indy.”

“So you can you look into it and get back to me?” Brian asked.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Murray said. “Then I can tell people I helped out on the case if the lead goes anywhere.”

Brian burst out laughing. “Thanks, man!”

He hung up sat back in his chair and ran his hair, clutching the tight curls in his fists. He knew it was early in the case, but there was something nagging at him. Something that felt off.

He was going to have to talk it out with Eddie when he got back. Maybe between the two of them they can figure out where the discordant cord was. Like they could when they played to drunks in bars back in the day.

~

Tag List: TWO SLOTS REMAINING

1- @niniel-karenine @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @gloomysoup @cryptid-system @kultiras @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006 @yikes-a-bee

5- @awkwardgravity1 @oopsallgender @fearieshadow @stedestielfrattficlover @dragonmama76

6- @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars

7- @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gutterflower77 @wheneverfeasible

8- @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss @steddieislife @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale

9- @stripey82 @kroymu09 @chaotic-waffle @tartarusknight @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff

10- @mags6422 @johannamry @themoonagainstmers

[ynasomniaur]

｡𖦹°‧ fuck me eyes | s.g

classification: archive (fluff)

synopsis: They say GOJO Satoru is too much — too powerful, too beautiful, too far gone. But no one ever really ever dared to know him and his scars. Until you.

author’s note ⟡ ݁₊ . hi so i finished it hehe this is inspired by ethel cain’s ‘fuck me eyes’ lyrics — “they wanna take her out but no one ever wants to take her home” and that sealed this piece. try reading it while listening to it for just an elevated experience… mwehe not proofread though… enjoy! i loved writing this. lmk your thoughts! hearts and reblogs are highly appreciated. lovelots!

wc: 1.7k

──★ ˙

GOJO satoru is a whore.

at least that’s what people say.

that he’s a notorious playboy or fuckboy — or some other term people would call him every week or whatever — known for incredible and mind-blowing one night stands. his eyes are so damn captivating people go crazy over it the moment he bats it.

people fawn over him. they love him — people practically offer themselves to him willingly, just one look from his ocean eyes and yup, hearts around him remember to beat just to break, burst, collapse.

he’s a heartbreaker, a damn good one at that.

at least that’s what people say.

GOJO satoru is an arrogant asshole who doesn’t give a fuck because he has everything. those cold piercing eyes are just portals of his own apathy.

that he’s a snob, a power tripper; loud and annoying. that since he knows he’s good looking and rich he just takes advantage of the people around him. he’s a know-it-all. boastful. insensitive and apathetic. people say he doesn’t even have a heart that’s why stepping over people is so easy for him.

that GOJO satoru is devoid of emotions — cold hearted.

his eyes reflect hollowness.

at least that’s what people say.

he doesn’t bat an eye when someone offers him chocolates and flowers, how everyday he receives tons of love letters; he doesn’t even show any remorse when he rejects someone that lays bare their heart on their hands, stripped raw just palpitating his name, willingly devout at the mercy of his affection that just doesn’t seem to exist.

it just fucking doesn’t — he’s cold hearted.

not the one to commit. reckless beyond reparation. just another conceited and affluent man who grew up always, always getting what he wants. just another insufferable, maddeningly beautiful man with beautiful eyes that feels entitled to everything around him because, for some reason it does.

that’s what people say.

and he thinks it’s true. hard cold fact burning bright red on his skin full of scratch marks. the curses that slip off the lips of the people he’d been with, tears full of disdain and hatred; lockers and mailboxes overflowing with love letters. maybe he really doesn’t care. maybe he does.

he’s just there… like a mere bystander of what people say about him that each time feels and becomes real. maybe it is.

like a water that takes up the shape of any container it’s in.

the audience of his own mind; the passenger of his own car — never entirely present nor complete. drifting over his hazy waking days full of indulgence and reckless youth. why not?

he’s just there to experience and for so long; he just became desensitized by everything people threw at him.

people want him.

they either want him or want to be him.

but fuck does it also fucking sting so bad, like his skin ripped apart from part by part, nerves from the veins from the tendons from the bones until he’s messily undone by everyone that surrounds him.

a masked vulnerability. they gave him the tools, the cutting edges, ‘you shape it,’ and maybe that’s what love is — to be guided..? but does it actually involve shedding your flesh for the people’s satisfaction?

because deep down he knows the difference between being wanted and being loved and he knew damn well none of it was love at all but over time, over his measly life decisions, over his sins and broken lineage, maybe it is. maybe to be loved is be broken.

condemned.

offered and tainted.

GOJO satoru is a unreal. a divine being. too damn ethereal that most people think he’s carved and molded by the gods themselves and sent him as a touch of blessing and grace in this unruly world; that the closest you could ever get to heaven is through his vastly deep, striking blue eyes.

at least that’s what people say.

more and more years that piles up on his being; he felt much more of a concept rather than a human. he’s smart enough to see the patterns, recognize the botched notions, but what does it change?

awareness doesn’t equate to freedom when you weren’t given a chance to be free in the first place.

so damn untethered. hazy. he’s everywhere but home.

hollowed blue. he’s a concept of damnation and salvation based from what they say. his eyes — always his fucking eyes — that looks like the exact replica of his parents, his father mainly and he’d laugh — his laugh sometimes scares him; its mechanical, a practiced response rather than a genuine reaction — “i know.”

his parents doesn’t know how to raise a child but they’re that damn good at raising hell.

and maybe that’s what he’ll ever be. irredeemable.

never home.

revered as divine by many, abhorred down to his guts by the world, all while he burns skin deep, superficial marrows all dented. fractured. sticking out.

until he met you.

maybe it’s a cruel punishment waiting to strike him down to ashes again. you looked at him in a way that nobody ever did; him as a human not as a concept or rumor or narrative people plastered everywhere.

to you, he’s satoru. just satoru and good-fucking-god that unraveled something within him. something rustic. decaying and withered nursed back to life. slowly.

for so long, he felt like he’s just constantly drowning from everything that his lungs just blown blue and purple until you.

for the longest time, he finally learned how to breathe without suffocating.

not from the contact of air in his nostrils. in his lungs. just... breathing. he noticed how his shoulders drop whenever you’re around, with him. how his tense and monitored breathing becomes even and comes down with a long, freeing sigh.

your presence feels warm. dangerously and tenderly warm sometimes the voices and fatigue from his cracked bones tell him to pull away; its dangerous, until you’d reach out to him and brush his hair away from his face and everything just falls into the most perfect places.

apparently this is what it feels like to be loved. not just wanted. not as a flesh to be used, a vessel to be trained, a figure to blame and hate - just human. humane. loved dearly so, he could feel the adoration for him just from the feather light brush of your fingertips. that was enough.

his eyes that he grew to hate, most times devoid of emotions, peels its sclera and holds the most venerating love that he wish he can say but sometimes the letters couldn’t really trace the complexity of his affection that swells not just within his heart and chest but in his whole being. it runs deeper than his existence.

funny how most of his life he felt like a bystander of his own being, his own lifeline, just drifting but now that he has you…

he feels tethered. grounded. like a body one with the mud and ground and grass, all yours to nurture.

he never learned how it feels to come home for he never was home, but to you it felt somatic. like everything about him just knows your existence like a familiar path to gravitate towards to — path to safety. as if his atoms and cells knew you before he could ever know your name and existence.

he’s already imprinted himself unto you and yours to him.

he’s not cold-hearted. maybe his heart just doesn’t know how to warm itself up. it was a defense mechanism from the piercing criticisms because back then if he let himself feel, he’ll erode. too much of a burden and responsibilities placed on his shoulders. he'll disintegrate.

he’s not a heartbreaker. he was the one who stood before all the people who cursed him with an already broken heart. he just happened to bleed all over others too. and believe me when i say he's utterly sorry for that.

and most of all? maybe he was a whore. all the body counts? yeah fuck he can’t ever undo that. he knows that well enough.

he’s just looking for a home maybe he can carve himself unto. even if it was definitely temporal. to be skin to skin with someone was the closest thing to what feels like home back then.

because maybe if he did it enough it’ll fill the gaping void within him. if he did it enough someone’ll crave him for who he really is rather than just a concept or a flesh.

just him.

he’s not what people say. you reassured him enough for him to believe it… most times. he tries his best because sometimes your love terrifies him — how can such a sinner like him deserve a love so fucking genuine it washes away his dubious doubts and fears?

how?

why?

he knows he’ll never ever be kind enough to himself. just doesn’t seem right. he’ll push you away once the burns that were embedded on his soul sears again. he just doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of his wrongdoings. sins. damnations. he’ll never ever be the angel people make him out to be.

irredeemable.

at least that’s what people say.

but you taught him that to love isn’t to burn. that it doesn’t have to shout. it’s not turbulent and just blue. that to love is to hold space and hold his hand in the process of you understanding things.

that to love is to finally let yourself be seen. held. loved. even with the edges he thinks is too unlovable. it's not. never will be, because if someone loves you?

they'll witness. they'll hold you, see you for who you are — flesh and imperfections, wrong decisions and just you. already enough, always has been. just made forgotten by the cruel voices outside. you taught him all that and god, it always takes his breath away whenever he knows he's loved. he can't believe he has you. too damn lucky.

he’s undone, but he’s yours. that may be all he ever needs to hear.

or know.

for him to finally be a human and be humane with a home.

to just be satoru.

and that’s the greatest divinity of redemption he'll forever be grateful for.

──★ ˙

author’s note ⟡ ݁₊ . helloooo!!! i hope u enjoyed itt hehe till next time <33if u guys see any typo or read any ungrammatical sentence... pretend its not there hehe i might update please, xanny tomorrow. lovelots! xoxo, yna

[rekino2114]

I had an idea I personally found pretty funny. Makima x Male S/o, a sequel to the soda fic where years after the… ahem… “soda incident”, after Makima and Y/n had Nayuta it was a normal day. They were spending some family time together, maybe watching eating snacks while watching a movie, when Nayuta pokes her mother on the shoulder to get her attention, and Makima sees Nayuta holding up a soda can to her, asking her to open it. The very same brand of soda that Y/n had asked her to open all those years prior, and Makima gets some can ptsd… some can-tsd. You can decide whether or not Makima ends up finally conquering the can!

Have a good week!

A/n:I have arrived at the point in my requests when the death reveal happened and after the death revealing her identity post I made a lot of chainsaw man requests started coming in one after another which I really appreciate but that does also mean that I'm going to post more csm posts than usual in a week, also because there are some csm summer requests too, I'll try to not make one immediately after the other and put at least one post for a different fandom in between but I hope you you like my csm content cause you'll be seeing more of it soon probably (then again I decide which post to do only on the day so this might end up just being wrong too) and please don't hate me for that

Also this is a part two to this post

Makima truly felt at peace. It was in moments like this, when she was with her family, that she could feel nothing other than the pure happiness you gave her

She rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes for a second, she could still hear the sound of the movie playing in the background but she didn't care too much about missing some parts she had seen this movie countless times, it was only on because nayuta wanted to rewatch it again and her mother was more than happy to comply

She felt your arm wrap around her side and she did the same feeling your warmth seep into her, this was so perfect, like every moment spent with you and nayuta always was, it reminded her of just how good of a decision abandoning her plans and starting a family with you was, she couldn't have felt this happiness, this peace otherwise, not with anyone else, she loved you and nayuta so much and that was one of the reasons why this moment was so perfect and nothing could have ruined it

"Mommy? Can you open this?"

"Sure thing swe-"

She answered almost reflexively, she would do anything for her daughter after all, just like with you, so she thought it was just one of the many simple tasks she did for her child... only for her expectations to be crushed when she opened her eyes

The moment she saw the soda can memories flashes before her eyes, specifically the time she failed to open a soda can for you, the exact same type of soda in fact, in your eyes makima seemed to have forgotten about it, but in truth she hadn't, it was basically the only time she couldn't do something for you the only time she failed you.....so when she saw her daughter hold up the same thing that had caused her so much despair so many years ago.....makima got scared

".............."

"O-oh nayuta you really shouldn't drink so much soda it'll ruin you-"

Remember the situation as well, you tried to fix the issue but makima stopped you, determined to fix her mistake from long ago

"....no darling, I can do it"

"A-are you sure makima?"

".....yes, I'm sorry for failing you all those years ago.....but now, I'll do it....for nayuta and for you"

"...o-ok"

She grabbed the can from nayuta, who meanwhile was very confused on why you were making such a big deal out of it and promptly.........failed miserably at opening it

She sighed and put it back on the table dejectedly, she gave up faster this time, as she didn't want to waste her energy on something she was fairly sure she wouldn't succeed in. You put her hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek as makima smiled in appreciation at your comforting gesture

Your quiet moment was interrupted when you heard a sound......it was a lid popping, makima immediately turned towards it and saw.....nayuta drinking happily out of the can like nothing, her eyes widening in surprise

"..............what?"

"Y-yuta, h-how did you do that?"

"Do what?"

The half devil just looked at you with a confused expression, completely unaware of the feat she just pulled

"....o-open the can"

"With my fingers! I flicked it and it opened, I don't know why you couldn't do it mommy! You're so strong"

Your daughter giggled and continued drinking the can while watching the movie, meanwhile makima stood there frozen with the most shocked expression you had ever seen on her face

"..............i......i....."

She just sighed and lowered her head while you patted her shoulder again

"Would some cuddles help make you feel better?"

"..............yes please"

[numberonekrisfan6453]

"Suselle this" "Krusie that" STFU!! THIS IS WHY ALL OF THEM ARE PEAK

+Kriselle is peak too and why Krusielle is THE BEST out of everything. Posting this on tumblr before I maybe post this on tiktok, Its pretty fucking long tho so I doubt anyone would read this all

TLDR:

Each one of them gives something to the table every ship is missing overall. Suselle is sweet but missing closeness, Krusie has chemistry but is missing maturity, and Kriselle has tension but is missing boldness. All three of them are very well written and unique to where all three ships are very well made and they all have their own type of chemistry with one another.

SUSELLE

"Suselle is stereotypical, boring, and Noelle only likes Susie from the outside" NONE OF THOSE ARE TRUE!! IF YOU ACTUALLY GAVE A FUCK ABOUT UNDERSTANDING THE CHARACTERS (esp Noelle) THEN YOU'LL UNDERSTAND.

First stereotypical is only bad when the stereotype is harmful and shallow. Yes it is nerd x strong girl all over again but Noelles whole personality and reasoning for liking Susie isnt that she wants to be saved by some strong butch. She likes Susie because she hates the part of herself that is vulnerable all the time. This is seen throughout the whole game, her father mentions how she gets like "A deer stuck in headlights" when facing her fears, and shes actively trying to be better by exposing herself and eventually feeling comfort in scary things. This is why she adores Susie because she wants to be stronger and the same thing people hate about Susie, Noelle loves and appreciates. (Kriselle part goes abit more into Noelle)

And also Susie definetly likes Noelle back. Have some media literacy people!! Susie is constantly trying to know what Noelle thinks of her, shes always asking questions of if Noelle thinks/dreams of her. She doesnt do that with anyone else. And Susie 'spared' her because she thought her smile was nice?? After chapter 2 she also talks and thinks about Noelle pretty frequently. Thinking about what Noelle would do or like, we dont obviously see into her thoughts all the time but that just proves that when she thought about what Noelle would do that its something to note. Though its not implicitly stated, Susie does have feelings towards Noelle and likely doesnt know what romantic love feels like. Also she tells Kris to look for the clues instead of her despite knowing Kris is close to Noelle more, maybe im looking into it too much but shes definetly interested in knowing more about Noelle and wanting to know what Noelle thinks of her. She never cares about that with others thinks until theyre close.

The two of them together two have really good chemistry. Noelle needs someone who can put her out of her comfort zone and matches her freak (in scary things.) Meanwhile Susie needs someone who can give her reassurance, love her flaws, and be mature enough that Susie doesnt accidentally do something stupid.

KRUSIE

Kris and Susie definetly have the best chemistry out of all the ships. The shippers piss me off though, the 'Cuckelle' memes is really disgusting considering thats a highschool girl youre talking about and the image is likely from rule 34. Theyre the whole reason im making this post in the first place cause yall just dont care about Noelle and it shows. So if you skipped the Suselle part, go the fuck back and maybe try to actually understand Noelle. (Im not saying all Krusie shippers are misogynistic, but this is constantly happening with fandoms hating or ignoring feminine women because they get 'in the way of a ship'. This is why ship wars are always happening because you refuse to see every character equally and respect others opinion)

Im not saying all Krusie shippers, just ignorant ones. If you dont think youre apart of that then its not directed to you. -- This was mainly aimed at tiktok people, idk about tumblr shippers but yall seem chill

Anyways!! Krusie is very much peak and I SWEAR Tricky Tony is hinting at it. YOU CAN NOT TELL ME THAT THAT SCENE WHERE KRIS PULLS SUSIE, IT WASNT IMPLYING THEY WERE ABOUT TO KISS. Like the build up hello?? for the arguments

"Susie used to bully Kris so its weird" Which I feel is a somewhat valid argument for not liking it especially if you have been bullied before, but them as characters make it work. Susies bullying came from a place of jealousy, it hasnt been stated yet but Susie obviously has a bad home life. When Susie mentioned her being treated by Toriel at the Diner, at that point Susie started seeing Toriel as an idolized maternal figure. It seems like every scene Susie was being mean to Kris, she mentions their mom. Susies frustration to Kris comes from a bad childhood and maybe also because shes afraid Toriel told Kris about Susies soft side so tries to seem tougher around them? But not sure.

Kris doesnt give a fuck, or atleast tries to show that they dont. On Noelles blog when she was writing about Susie picking on Kris, Kris seems very nonchalant about everything, even laughing and then saying something to make Susie immediately run off. It may also seem like Kris is just acting but even during the game when Susie almost bites off their head, they just dont move or struggle. (They can move without our influence, just not certain choices and gameplay). Though we dont know why Kris isnt responsive, its likely that they just dont care or some people think they may be suicidal, but I (want to) believe more in the first reason. They understand Susies pain and insecurities and they know she wont actually cause any harm. Though if the second reason they might not care because they dont care about what happens to them, or worse they like that Susie harms them... Getting abit dark, I love character examinations tho so I really might do one of kris one day. >:)

Now for the present, all of their interactions literally make me say "I love these two so much", theyre both just weirdos with maybe violent tendancies and trauma but seem to find comfort with one another which makes everything so much better. They are constantly saving one another, Susie also expresses alot of guilt that they werent friends before. I feel that in future chapters we'll likely go into that hopefully. Susie also gives Kris a sense of freedom. Kris very obviously hates their situation that they have no choice in what to do oe say, Susie just does whatever she wants. Shes constantly dismissing the players choice and pointing out certain things that Kris themself does. She is what Kris needs, someone that they can be goofy with and forget that theyre being controlled. Though, this ship is also a breeding ground for angst

Susie doesnt know Kris. Though Kris's personality shines out sometimes, theres scenes where its obvious that she doesnt understand them. Noelle states that Kris has been acting weird, and its said before Kris knows Noelle better than anyone, this can be seen as vice versa as Noelle was Kris's best friend before they got possessed. But when Noelle says that, Susie says "thats just how Kris is" thinking that Kris is normal when being controlled. Not only that, Susie has major trust issues. She says "Theres nothing I hate more than people who dont tell you the full deal". Theyre really leading us into angst, because Susie is going to be seriously heartbroken when they find out that Kris is in cahoots with the knight (supposedly) and that the person she thought was her first closest friend was actually posessed all along. Also note in the snowgrave route after you and Noelle talk in her room, when youre walking to the chuch with Susie she thinks you were talking bad about her with Noelle. Which KILLS me. Kris isnt able to say anything about it too. It seems like in the snowgrave route Susie is also pretty affected by everything.

Still, I really like the ship based on their chemistry together. Susie is just what Kris needs, platonic or not. Also I love angst but if they dont get a happy ending where Kris and Susie are happy together I will hunt down Tony.

KRISELLE

Besides the very angsty toxic yuri snowgrave route, Kriselle is also very cute and rare in the fandom. Though its not as popular I still think theyre pretty cute for each other and have a good dynamic

Its established that Kris and Noelle were very good childhood friends, and even though its hard to pinpoint their relationship now, they still very clearly care for one another and consistently go out of their way to help one another. (Also though I said besides the snowgrave route, ill still be using it for reference). For Noelle she still always wants to help Kris, first scenes we see of her she offers to ask the teacher for a trio since Kris was late. She also mentions how Kris knows her the best, Noelle is very much a weirdo, maybe not as much as Kris but she does love games, horror movies and creepy pastas. Shes interested in things that scare her and wants to be braver. Though Kris is controlled now, whenever Kris was little and pranked Noelle I like to think that Kris knew about Noelles situation and wanted to help her. Kris helps Noelle to be more of her true self, and despite Noelle being unsure if they’re friends now (likely to the whole Dess situation and their familys being seperated), shes still always fond of Kris and knows Kris always wants the best for her. She also knows Kris the best out of everyone, able to tell whenever theyre not themselves and does show concern. Also Noelle was so easily manipulated in the snowgrave route because she trusts Kris so much, she believed that Kris is just helping her get stronger and they would never do anything to harm her.

For Kris to Noelle, though we cant see it alot in the main route we do go more into it in snowgrave. Its likely that Noelle was Kris first friend, Kris has been described as sorta a menace growing up. Noelle is always really understanding and patient for others, even for berdly who probably makes her uncomfortable alot, she still stays his friend and helps him with his grades. Those aspects are something Kris needs especially with their condition right now. Its also seen throughout the snowgrave route, Kris very much cares about Noelle aswell. After chapter 2 snowgrave route, Noelle mentions Kris coming over to their house, reassuring her that everything will be ok. Even in their souless weak state, they go out of their way to walk to her house, probably climb her gate, and say sorry. And in chapter 4 snowgrave, this is the most we ever see them frustrated at our actions. Their mood becomes less happier, theyre frantic to stop the soul making everything worse, and becomes more violent, kicking us constantly and biting their hand from us doing choices they do not agree to. My theory why their relationship deteriorated was a part of this reason, cause they were scared that the souls actions would hurt her.

NOW WHY KRUSIELLE IS THE BEST OUT OF ALL OF THEM

Ive already gone through all of each others relationship so ill just go over why adding the character to the different ships is the best option

Suselle - Kris is the bridge for them, Susie and Noelle didnt start hanging out till Kris was there to help them. Yes maybe at some point they wouldve started hanging out by themselves, but Susie only started softening up and being ok with others because they were friend with Kris first. Right now, Kris knows the both of them the best. If Kris does have romantic feelings for any of them, it just feels super sad.

Krusie - Even if theyre lovable stupid weirdos together, we need someone in this relationship who will be mature and not lead them to accidentally kill themelves. Ralsei is originally this role but considering Ralsei may or may not be related to Asriel its sorta weird without confirming. Also Ralseis pushover when it comes to them (love u Ralsei sorry). Noelle is the best person for this. Shes smart, non judgmental, and though shes also a pushover shes actively trying to be better and most likely less more bold the more comfortable she is with the person. In the long run Kris and Susie will probably end up burning everything if Noelle isnt there to help them be more mature. Noelle will also likely be a mediator, Kris doesnt talk about their problems and Susie needs communication. Noelle is mature enough to help the both of them.

Kriselle - Even though theyre childhood friends, they both seem to be very avoidant about their situation right now. Like how Susie is in the fun gang, shes always the one being bold and being a beacon of hope when Kris and Ralsei is pessimistic. I like to see it as Susies the only one out of the three who would point out they didnt want pickles in their burger. Susie is also likely to convince Noelle to talk about Noelles and Kris's damaged friendship, Susies always curious about them being close and even though Noelle dismisses it, Susies bold enough to make Noelle face the problem.

Conclusion:

Shut the fuck up, they are all good ships.

Uh, Kerdlys also here ig

Torturing Kris in a funny way,

TECHNICALLY, You can see it canon that Kris is Berdlys gamer soulmate since they both play the same games,

I hate that damn bird but I support yall Kerdly shippers u guys funny,

[wyrdling01]

i sometimes make myself sad by thinking about dean winchester and sunsets and what they really mean for him.

let me explain.

in 2x07 (oh so long ago), dean mentions that he enjoys sunsets as he makes his "confession" for diana and pete.

a decade later, in 11x11:

when you first watch this scene, it just feels sad because of how far dean has come and the crushing weight that constantly rests on his shoulders, preventing him from enjoying something as simple as a sunset. but i think there's more here than just that.

the conversation that follows after mildred's question is about retirement, about ending life on the road (mildred was also a traveller), and also about following your heart, going where it tells you to go.

now, to show how this is destiel-coded (because everything about dean winchester is ultimately destiel-coded).

dean calls cas "sunshine" a few times throughout the show.

7x21

12x03

and remember dean's retirement plans in 13x23?

yup. going to a place where there is a LOT of sunshine. specifically with cas. who is dean's sunshine, his source of light in the absence of chuck/god. given that angels are regularly associated with light and lamps throughout the show, it's no great surprise that dean thinks of cas as the sun, the greatest source of light out of all of them.

so, cas is dean's sunshine, and dean winchester enjoys sunsets. why does he enjoy sunsets? because they are the last part of the day he can properly enjoy before having to think about and deal with the things that "go bump in the night." or, according to the show's meta, it's the final moments of the time he can enjoy being in the sun (with cas).

why does he stop having time to enjoy sunsets? because in season 11 the darkness becomes suddenly becomes manifest as character who is pursuing dean, confusing and scaring him by claiming that they are bound together by destiny and that they are fated to be together.

now for a bit of a tangent, which will connect back to this.

think back to the end of 2x18, only 11 episodes after dean first says he enjoys sunsets.

the winchesters walking off into the sunset together. but then -

the curtain is lifted, so to speak, and reality is revealed. because sunsets, being able to enjoy sunsets, is a bit of a fantasy for dean. they're something he can only fully appreciate if he has a "normal" life where he isn't repeatedly saving the world.

the show seems to revisit this idea in 11x23 when they show the darkness/amara trying to kill the sun (i.e. dean's sunshine, who is cas, who is, as amara has realised by this point, her primary rival for dean's romantic interest). in other words, they are taking dean's hopes and revealing them to be an unattainable fantasy.

as always since cas first walked into that barn, throughout season 11 there are strong indicators of cas and dean's very-much non-platonic feelings for each other, which is why the moment with mildred is so important. it reminds dean, in a time when he is facing the biggest threat he has encountered yet, that he can still dream of and hope for retirement. that he can still enjoy what he has with cas. that he can follow his heart (when mildred says that, we know that he's not thinking of amara).

yet once again in the finale, the show crushes those possibilities. dean is ready to give his life to stop amara (i.e. save the sun i.e. save cas), but once he succeeds, he still isn't able to enjoy the sunshine he has saved because sam has been kidnapped by the british men of letters and a whole new cycle of figuring out how to overcome this next obstacle begins.

so while 2x07 is well before dean meets cas, maybe the reason the show (accidently? intentionally?) revisits this character trait of dean's is because sunsets, the moments of passage from day to night, are, for dean, a balance. between hunting the things that go bump in the night, saving the world again and again, and having cas alongside him.

sunsets are dean's compromise between those two parts of his life, until he can retire. and then he can go to a beach somewhere and have all the sunshine he wants.

but maybe dean is tired of having to make this compromise, which is why he tells sam about his retirement plans in 13x23. because in the first episode of that same season, cas died and they burned his vessel.

and they did it at sunset. which is supposed to be dean's symbol for the compromise he makes to have cas in his life. and it might be here, in this moment, that dean realised a comprise wasn't enough.

going back to his confession in 2x07:

in addition to sunsets, he ALSO says that he enjoys long walks on beaches. so as 13x23 indicates, dean is done with compromises/sunsets. he truly wants to retire because he believes that, with jack's help, he can make the world safe. he believes he's earned his sunshine with cas. and retiring from hunting is the only way that the people he cares about can be safe.

anyway, that turned out to be a bit longer than i intended. i just think these connections between dean and sunsets and cas are very beautiful and sad, and one of the many accidental ways the show shows us how much they care about each other.