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desiderio-dixon · 10 months ago

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Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter 3 : Hand Me Downs

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : Glenn returns from Atlanta, Daryl returns from hunting, and all of you leave on a rescue mission for Merle.

Chapter warnings : language, violence, gore, general twd themes

Word count : 3.8k

A/N : This one wasn't proof-read so if anyone noticed any mistakes please lmk! next update may be a little slower because closing in on the process of adopting a puppy!

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Emerging from your tent, you head for Dale immediately. The noise is only growing closer and louder, and everyone is grouped around Dale. The old man looks through his binoculars, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'll be damned." Dale mutters.

"What is it?" Amy pushes impatiently.

"A stolen car is my guess."

The bright red sports car pulls into the quarry, and your heart leaps in your chest when you spy the driver. While everyone around panics about the noise, or their still-missing friends, your relief outweighs anything else. You leap onto Glenn, hugging him tight while he attempts to calm Amy. Paying it no mind, you only focus on the way his arms circle around your back to return the hug. It only lasts a couple seconds before he's stepping back to pop the hood for Shane. It's enough, though.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?" Amy sputters, wide eyed and frantic.

"Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Typically you wouldn't care that anything had happened to Merle. You'd even go as far to say, you'd be downright relieved. You wouldn't wish death on anyone, but maybe you'd wish that Merle would somehow be teleported a good 200 miles away from you. But, that relief was only there for a split second. Instead, you felt a deep sense of worry for Daryl.

You didn't know him much at all, hell, he's spoken no more than five sentences to you the entire time you'd known him. None of those sentences were ever delivered in a particularly friendly manner, but just this morning he had helped you. You knew he felt like an outsider, and it seemed the only person in the group he liked was his brother.

Not only were you worried he'd fall into some form of depression if Merle was dead, but you were also worried he'd leave. Daryl provided so much to your group, and whether they realized it or not, everyone owed a lot to him.

You break free of your thoughts just in time to hear Dale scolding Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

You know Glenn looks up to Dale, can see his worry of disappointing him. "Sorry," Glenn says, staring at his feet. Then, he looks up with a grin. "Got a cool car." That makes you let out a huff of laughter. It is a pretty cool car.

Your attention is stolen away by the sound of tires crunching over gravel, the van pulling in behind the red dodge charger. Andrea is the first to hop out, running to Amy. Morales, T-dog, and Jacqui all spill out after her. Morales greets his wife and children before coming over to give Dale a hug. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure." Dale laughs.

"How'd y'all get out of there, anyway?" Shane asks, hands on his hips. The classic authoritarian stance he always seems to don.

From beside you, Glenn speaks up. "New guy." He glances to the van. "He got us out." New guy? It's been a while since your group has welcomed a new addition.

Nothing could prepare you for the reaction to the man who steps out of the van. Lori and Shane frozen, absolutely shellshocked. Carl, running and screaming for his father.

Lori recovers after a moment, falling into her husband's awaiting arms. Shane stays where he is, no hint of a smile on his face. You catch him fake one when Rick looks his way. It's not hard to guess what's happening. "Trouble in apocalyptic paradise for Shane and Lori." You whisper to Glenn, who only looks down at his shoes and shakes his head in sardonic amusement.

You get along well enough with Lori, if nothing else but for the simple fact that you adore her son. She's never done anything to make you think less of her, and you really don't blame her for her obvious affair with Shane. She'd told the story to you once or twice. Husband gets shot on the job, comatose, shit hits the fan, husband's best friend takes care of her and her son. And of course, she'd told you the part where Shane had listened for a heartbeat. There was none. Or so it was said.

Who can blame a grieving widow, lost in this shit-storm of a world for seeking comfort in a fling with the man she believes is her savior?

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You sit down by the unlit firepit with T-dog and Glenn. T-dog gnaws on a piece of jerky, eyes downcast. "Daryl's not gonna be happy," You start. No one has filled you in exactly on what happened, just that Merle was left chained on the roof. Alive but trapped. "But I'm sure he'll understand to some degree. He's gotta be more tired of his brother than any of us." You joke. T-dog just shakes his head, obviously guilty.

"He was out of control. Rick did the right thing." Glenn tells you. You hum in response, gaze wandering to where Rick wanders around camp, acquainting himself with all it's residents. The deputy must feel your eyes on him, because when he's done shaking Ed's hand, he heads for you. He's all confident strides, a sureness you haven't seen in anyone since the end of the world. You guess it's the effect of finding your wife and child in such unlikely circumstances.

He stops in front of you, hand extended and a smile more full of happiness than you've seen in two months. "Rick Grimes." He introduces.

You return his smile, clasping his hand. "Trust me, I already knew your name. Carl's told me all about how cool his daddy is." He laughs, looking down in a sort of bashful manner. You tell him your name, and he repeats it, nodding to himself.

"Yeah," He drawls. "Turns out I already knew yours, too. Glenn told me you know the city like the back of your hand." You nod. You'd lived in Atlanta before the turn, and you'd only become even more informed on it given the various runs you'd been on.

"Oh yeah. Normally I would've been there, being the one to save Glenn's ass. Glad you were there to fill my shoes." You tease, nudging Glenn with your shoulder. He pushes you back gently, sputtering out defenses.

When you glance back to Rick, he's laughing too.

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After the sun had gone to sleep, and the stars brought a bitter chill to the air, everyone gathered around the firepit. Rick has Lori and Carl tucked into his side as he recalls the chain of events leading him back to them. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all of those things but, disoriented comes closest."

It must be strange to just wake up in a world like this. At least you had seen things progress. Heard the stories of cannibals on the radio, seen the news clips of deathly beings attacking civilians, watched the hospitals become overrun and the system fall apart. You'd seen the bombs drop, too.

"Words can be meager things, sometimes they fall short." Dale pipes up beside you. You look at Glenn, his face illuminated in a warm glow from the fire. Looking at him lights a sense of comfort and safety within you. He may be young, awkward and clunky, but he saved you.

The conversation goes on, focus almost entirely on Rick. When he turns to Shane, a sincerity to his eyes, you feel almost guilty. As if you are the one harboring the secret of Lori and Shane's affair. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane." You have to suppress a sigh at his words. "I can't begin to express it."

"There goes those words falling short again." Dale quips. You can't help but agree. It's not your business, but you feel that words can't begin to express how convoluted the relationship between those three will end up being. How long can you keep secrets from a cop?

Shane leaves shortly after to argue with Ed. Not the first time the drunken man had insisted he needed a larger fire. You keep an eye from your spot, watching Carol and Sophia closely. You don't like Shane, but you know he'd use any excuse to beat on Ed. There's no complaints to be had from you if an altercation between the two started; as long as Carol and Sophia are safe and away from the action.

Somewhat unfortunately, the situation seems to resolve, Shane coming back to the main firepit. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says once Shane's situated. This time, your sigh does spill out. You weren't a part of the Atlanta group, and yet, all you've been thinking about since they got back was Daryl Dixon.

"I'll tell him," T-dog offers. "I dropped the key, it's on me."

Rick shakes his head. "I cuffed him." You see Glenn shaking his leg from beside you, glancing between T-dog and Rick beyond the fire.

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Ah, so that's why he was so nervous.

"I really don't think Daryl is like Merle," You say, unsure why you feel the need to defend him. Just because he brought Carol to you? "At least not like that." There were definitely other ways Daryl was like Merle. Their brash language, their unkempt demeanor, and perhaps their general strength and hunting skill. Still, Daryl didn't strike you as a racist.

The conversation goes on, discussing what to tell Daryl. Who to take blame, whether to lie or be honest.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock." T-dog rambles, the fire crackling loudly as a backtrack to his words. "My point– Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

His confirmation that Merle is alive ends the discussion for the night, the group trickles off into their respective tents, and the fire flickers out. Glenn stands from beside you, announcing his departure. You watch him as he leaves, a coldness taking over in his absence.

You stay behind for a moment, no one left at the fire. A few feet away, Shane sits atop the RV. Paying him no mind, you lean back and stare at the sky. It's moments like these that you allow yourself to remember your best friend; allow yourself to picture her face among the stars. You take a deep breath, feeling it stretch your lungs, before breathing it out into the chilly night air. You imagine it takes the weight in your heart with it. But when you're done, standing up and heading to your tent, your chest feels just as heavy.

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Daryl finishes stringing up cans around the small clearing. It's not much, but it's some form of protection. He lies in the makeshift bed–his bag as a pillow and a t-shirt as a mattress. The trip hadn't been as productive thus far as he'd hoped, only a string of squirrels lay beside him. He'll get up before the sun, and keep going until he finds something of value he decides.

He takes comfort in staring at the night sky. It's where he feels he belongs. Even before the end of the world, he'd spent most nights sleeping outside in nature. It was always safer. In some way, he does find himself feeling more exposed without the knowledge that there are people around him. At the quarry, there's always someone keeping watch. He couldn't trust Merle to keep sober to watch his back.

But soon enough, it'll be back to just him and Merle. He'll have to deal with it.

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You, Carol, and Lori are on laundry duty this morning. Carol scrubs Rick's sherrif uniform and something about it almost makes you giggle. Wearing a police uniform in the apocalypse is nothing short of something from a comic book.

You have Glenn's hat, trying to spot clean little dried blood stains. "I wish peroxide wasn't as valuable," You comment, scrubbing with all your might on a particularly stubborn stain. "Used to wash out blood like magic." Carol hums, agreeing. Lori stays silent, working on her own laundry with a faraway look.

"Everything okay with you and Rick?" Carol asks, touching Lori's arm gently with a soapy hand. Lori nearly jumps out of her skin, water splashing from her basin. Suds fly through the air, and to your great displeasure, a splotch of soap lands right in your eye.

"Ow, shit!" You cry, dropping Glenn's hat and covering your eye. Lori frantically apologizes.

Due to your momentary loss of vision, you don't notice Glenn approaching you until he's calling out. "Hey, you okay? Let me see," He says. You tilt your head up, trying your best to open your eye. He takes the corner of his shirt and lifts it, using it to gently brush soap away from your eye.

His care for you makes you warm. It feels good to know someone cares. You rapidly blink to clear the remnants of soap, before flashing him a radiant smile. "Thanks." You breathe.

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Later, you stand next to Glenn, sharing in his grief. Dale and Jim are under the hood of the Dodge Charger, yanking out parts and pieces. Glenn's hands are on his head, brows furrowed in sadness. You pat him on the back. "We'll find another."

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale calls. Glenn looks down at his feet and you giggle, much to his chagrin.

Before you know it, Rick has approached you, a similar look of amusement on his face. "I thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles.

"Maybe we'll steal another one someday." Rick echoes your earlier sentiment. He wanders off, likely to find Lori.

"You replacing me with officer friendly?" You joke, nudging Glenn. He exhales through his nose, a small grin on his face.

"I don't know who makes fun of me more." He whines. You roll your eyes, reaching up to steal his hat off his head. Placing it on top your own, you turn and run, laughing while he chases you.

The chase gets cut short by a chorus of screams. You and Glenn freeze in unison, wide eyes meeting each other before you both dash. You hear Carl and Sophia's distinct voices calling out for their mothers.

You run as fast as your feet can carry you, Glenn's hat discarded still on your head. The children are at the edge of the forest, and as the adults arrive, they all run right into their parents arms. Running into the forest behind them, you all find the culprit. A deer, now dead, with a walker feasting on its innards. Your eyes are drawn to the various arrows sticking out of it.

The men jump into action, beating the walker with various objects. It reminds you of prison beatings in movies; ugly, uncoordinated, and inefficient. When they finish, the grunts and huffs silenced, you point to the arrows. "Daryl." You simply offer.

Shane nods, but otherwise they seem to ignore you. "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale says, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the tree branches start to move and dried leaves crunch under the weight of something. You all gear up to fight another walker, when Daryl Dixon comes stumbling out of the woods. There's a level of relief to seeing him, knowing that your group didn't lose both their prize hunters in one fell swoop. But there's also a level of dread, a sinking weight in your stomach when you think of the news that needs delivering.

You don't get to think on it long, for Daryl interrupts your thoughts with an outburst. "Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this–" He starts kicking the walker. "–filthy, disease-bearin', motherless, poxy bastard!" You can't help but laugh. You really don't mean to, don't want him to think you're mocking him. The giggles just tumble out one-by-one, unstoppable in their path.

Everyone pauses to look at you, varying degrees of concern and confusion, but you just can't stop laughing. Daryl narrows his eyes at you, "This funny to ya?" You can't answer through your huffs, so Daryl just scoffs, turning his attention back to the walker. It receives one more swift kick to the side.

Dale extends his arm in a notion to stop. "Calm down, son. That's not helping." You know it from the moment it leaves his lips that he'll receive an earful for this. It simply doesn't work to tell a man like Daryl to 'calm down'.

Just as expected, Dale receives the opposite of the intended reaction. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to 'on golden pond'?" You, for one, think Dale's bucket hat is very stylish, and you'd let him know that on multiple occasions.

"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think? Do ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He seems genuine, chewing on his thumb and contemplating with a furrowed brow.

"I would not risk that." Shane says. Daryl sighs, disappointment evident.

"That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl moves to leave, and you start to follow behind him.

Suddenly, the decapitated walkers head breathes life once more, snapping it's teeth and groaning. Daryl stops in his tracks, almost making you face-plant right into his back. "Come on, people. What the hell?" He readies his crossbow, shooting the decaying head right between the eyes.

"It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

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Daryl makes it back to the camp first, tossing his string of squirrels by the firepit. "Merle! Get yer ugly ass out here, got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" He does find it strange that Merle doesn't immediately respond, knowing how loose Merle's jaw is.

Shane's voice, his tone, sends a spiral of uncertainty through him. "Daryl, just slow up a bit, need to talk to you."

Daryl whips around to face Shane. "About what?" Shane places his hands over his belt buckle, eyes darting away from Daryl.

"About Merle. There was a–There was a problem in Atlanta." Daryl let's the words sink in, nodding slowly. He feels that all too familiar lump in his throat, panic digging her claws into his esophagus.

"He dead?" He thinks he must be. What else could Shane be referring to?

"We're not sure." Shane says. That lights a fire in Daryl. Uncertainty has never been his friend. Things didn't feel real without confirmation.

"He either is or he ain't!"

Rick approaches, hand out as if Daryl was some rabid animal. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?" Daryl snaps, looking this new guy up and down. He looks past him, to everyone at camp, who seems to not bat an eye at the newcomer. The hell did he miss?

"Rick Grimes." The confidence that Rick delivers his name in only makes Daryl more angry.

Daryl huffs, stepping closer to Rick, chest puffed. "Rick grimes, you got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal." Rick tilts his head, locking eyes with Daryl. "He's still there."

Daryl almost laughs, a bitter, angry laugh at the absurdity. "Hold on. Let me process this." He gestures to his head. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?" He yells.

"Yeah." Next thing Daryl knows, he's pulled his knife and Shane has him in a chokehold.

"You'd best let me go!" He screeches, thrashing wildly.

Shane only seems to tighten his grip. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke hold's illegal."

Shane has an air of amusement in his tone when he responds, but nothings funny to Daryl right now. "You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

Rick crouches down to look Daryl in his eye. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Its not Rick's request, or his condescending tone that causes Daryl to agree. It's not Shane's grip either. It's when he looks behind them, to you.

You, with your eyes full of not fear or worry, but of sympathy. It makes shame burn in him, enveloping his body in an overwhelming and uncomfortable warmth. He feels your eyes on him and he feels your pity and it makes him sick. He needs out. If he has to have a peaceful conversation with Rick to get away from your piercing eyes, then so be it.

Imagine Daryl's thrill when Rick proposes you and Glenn to join in the rescue mission for Merle. He'd said something about you and Glenn knowing the city, needing you to retrieve a bag of guns. Daryl narrows his eyes at you and Glenn when you pack into the back of the van. You've still got the kid's hat on, and something about that makes him uncomfortable. Who has time for love in this world?

The ride is mostly silent, some jokes exchanged between you, Glenn, and T-dog. Nothing Daryl pays much attention to. He'd rather go get his brother himself. Eventually Glenn stops the van. "We walk from here."

On the walk, Daryl's heart speeds up the closer he gets to the department store. He's antsy, just wants to see his brother, dead or alive. You seem to notice, speeding your steps a bit to walk in pace with him. "I'm sure he's okay. You Dixons are tough." Daryl just scoffs, refusing to meet your eye.

Each step up to the roof sends a new wave of nerves through his stomach, so he takes them two at a time. T-dog cuts through the padlock and Daryl brushes past him onto the roof. "Merle!" And then he sees it. Grey and decaying, bloody and lifeless. It reminds Daryl of everything else Merle has left for him.

All the ripped old flannels, the half drank beers, hell, even the aged porno mags with the ink smeared and half the pages falling out. Merle never left anything pleasant for Daryl.

Though, while sobbing over Merle's dismembered hand, he has to say that this is the worst hand me down of all.

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taglist(open): @celtic-crossbow

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #dbtd #the walking dead #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #twd daryl

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cowboydisaster · 2 years ago

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The Fire In Your Eyes

part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: it's time for the train job, the biggest job you've ever done. You've got a bad feeling about it, and by the end you wish you would have listened to your gut.

a/n: Surprise! Early post! Thank you for your patience with this chapter! Yall know I always upload on Wednesday, but i was so sick that i couldn't write, and i had to go to the ER on tuesday night to get fluids. Anyway, this has been the scariest chapter to write ever. Don't kill me please and please don't give up on this series... love yall, don't yell at me and please trust me. This chapter was too long and got split into two parts: part two will be posted in three days time.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: violence, death, minors dni, 18+

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

Arthur leaves long before you even wake up, heading back down to Blackwater to find Sean. It gives you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you trust he’ll be okay. Arthur is smart, and even though he's good at getting himself in sticky situations, he's equally good at getting out of them. It doesn't do much to help your worry, but it’s all you can cling to for right now.

You swirl your half empty cup of coffee in your hand, leaning down for the percolator to reheat it. The fire is warm, alongside the sun, and you find yourself grateful for the off the shoulder shirt you’d picked up a few days ago. It's the perfect temperature you think, tasting the bitter coffee. You're startled out of your thoughts by a weary presence.

“Penny for your thoughts, ma’am?” Kieran asks, walking passed to sit down opposite of you on a crate. He looks nervous, like he was afraid to come sit, and you feel sorry for it. Kieran seems like a nice man, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Just thinkin’ about all that's goin’ on… I see they let you live, huh?” You chuckle, and Kieran nods, nervously.

“Well Mr. Morgan convinced Dutch to let me stay, I thought maybe that was your doin.” Kieran says, and your eyebrow pings up in shock.

“Did he now?” You hum, surprised by Arthur’s choice, “No, That was all Mr. Morgan. Well good for you, I just hope he won’t regret it.”

“Oh he won’t! I'm real good with horses, miss, worked in a stable most my life. I’m sure I can be of help with anything you folks need, especially in that regard. I can do anything, even latrines. I’ll earn my keep, miss, I will.” Kieran stutters and you nod, eyeing him over.

“But speakin’ of horses… that palomino over there, the blue eyed one, is she yours?” Kieran asks, nodding towards Athena, who has her neck to the ground, tearing through the bale of hay there. You smile, watching as she pins her ears at Old Boy, keeping the hay for herself.

“Yeah, she’s mine. Just got her since we’ve been here.” You smile, and Kieran takes note of her configuration.

“She looks like a thoroughbred. Nice and tall, lean and muscular.” Kieran points out, and you hum at his accuracy.

“She is.” You respond, eyeing whether or not Kieran has a motive or if he's just a lover of all things equine. You sip at your bitter coffee, letting him speak for himself.

“Y’know palomino thoroughbreds are of the rare sort, n’ with those blues? Well you got a real fine animal, miss.” Kieran says, doting over your mare. You smile, making a note to mention Kieran’s knowledge of horses to Arthur. Maybe that could be his designated contribution. At least he’d be doing something he enjoys instead of getting harassed and threatened by the gang all day.

“Thank you.” You hum, drinking the rest of your coffee.

"Well I reckon I better take my coffee and head back to shuckin' corn till they give me a better job. But it was real nice talkin' to you, miss. You're the first person who's treated me like a person rather than an animal since I've been here." Kieran smiles, filling up his cup with the percolator before nodding to you and heading back to Pearson's wagon. You frown, feeling sorry for him. You were lucky enough to have been found by Arthur, but it could have gone any other way. O'Driscolls could have found you first, and you could be in Kieran's shoes right now.

Sighing, and taking your cup of coffee, you stand up and walk past Strauss's tent, ignoring his greeting. There's a little log sitting near the edge of the cliff behind his tent, and it's a perfect little spot to sit and think. Not wanting to be bothered, your eyes stay pinned on the log as you make your way towards it. The view is breathtaking, you can see everything from the Dakota River to the tops of the Grizzlies from the spot as you sit down, drinking in the warm air. It's a secluded little area, far enough from camp to get away from the arguments and bickering, but close enough for safety. You're enjoying your solitude, watching two bucks fight down below the cliff, they're antlers are stuck together as they rip and rug. It's an interesting sight, until it's interrupted by a throat clearing behind you.

"John." You sigh, annoyed not with his presence but the fact that you know why he's here.

"Nice to see you too." John chuckles, bringing his leg over the log to sit next to you with a cigarette between his lips.

“Gotta get some supplies for this train job, I could use an extra hand that ain't a dumbass.” John asks, leaning backwards to stretch. You sigh, not wanting to even think about the damn train job. But nonetheless, you nod.

“Sure. What exactly is your plan for goin’ about it?” You ask, scooching towards John as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers, shaking it before tossing it on the ground. He pulls a map from his pocket, unfolds the heavily used paper, and holds it out for you to see.

“Trains' comin’ from Riggs Station. It’s dropping off its security detail in The Heartlands, and after dark it’s heading down to Rhodes to pick up the next regiment.” He explains, tracing his finger over the paper from Riggs Station to Rhodes.

“So it’ll be completely unguarded for this whole stretch of tracks?” You ask. It sounds too good to be true, but you know that John and Arthur have done this enough by now. They know how to get proper information. But the idea of the train job still makes your stomach flip with anxiety as you’ve never robbed anything as big as a train.

“Well, not exactly. The security that they’re payin the big bucks for won’t be there, but we expect a few armed passengers, and some local boys guardin’ the train for extra cash. It won't be completely unguarded, but it sure as hell won’t be a militia like you’d expect.”

You nod, taking the map from his hands gently, and looking it over.

“Where do we board, n’ how are we boardin’ it?” You ask, and John places his index finger over a little area labeled Dewberry Creek, just past the Lemoyne/New Hanover stateline.

“Here. We’ll have to stop the train, or it’ll take us right into town. I figure we get an oil wagon, ease it over the tracks. When that train comes through and sees that oil? It’ll stop just fine. We board her, encourage those rich bastards to give up their grammy’s pearls and we ride out.” John explains, tucking the map back into his pocket.

“Alright… seems like a solid plan.” You admit, ignoring your gut, “Where do we get a full oil wagon?” You ask, dusting some dirt off of your new jeans.

“That’s where you come in. Only place I reckon we find one is the oil fields, out in The Heartlands, you know of it?”

You shake your head no, “Uh-uh.”

“Well it's well guarded for the most part, but most of those guys sleep or drink on the job. And they don’t get paid enough to give a damn. I’m heading over now to scout the place out, get an idea of the schedule. Thought maybe you could tag along, put that head to use instead of washin’ clothes for old Susan.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's just complimented you or insulted you, but still, you nod.

“Alright. Let me pack some stuff, I’ll meet you by the horses.”

John nods as you walk back towards your tent. With a sigh, you pull the canvas open. Your saddle bag is sitting on your bed, and you stuff it with some provisions and a change of clothes, then decide that you’ll need to grab some more ammo from Arthur's tent just in case. Once everything is all packed and settled, you swing your saddlebag over your shoulder and head back out. You stop around the back of Arthur’s wagon, picking up a few cases of express bullets and some throwing knives from the makeshift armory.

“What does she want from him now? I never liked hearin' about her…” Marybeth hisses, and you look up, startled, realizing she is standing in Arthur’s tent. You’re peeking around the back of the wagon, eavesdropping as Marybeth places a crisp white envelope on Arthur’s bedside table.

“I always thought Mary was nice…” Tilly responds, picking up the envelope and looking it over before returning it.

“Nice like a patch of poison ivy.” Marybeth bites, and Tilly rolls her eyes.

“You didn’t even know her. Not when she was really around, anyway. She was always kind, just… didn’t agree with our life. Can you blame her?” Tilly sighs, and they walk out of the tent together.

Your eyebrows pull together, and you walk around the outside of his tent until you're at the entrance. You hum, looking at the envelope before striding through his tent towards it. It’s upside down on his table, and you know you shouldn’t be snooping through his mail, but you pick it up and flip it over regardless. Written in sloppy cursive is ‘Arthur’ and you look after the lettering for a while. The paper is fancy, the kind that is expensive and only available in the city. Your finger trails over the lettering, and it itches to tear the red seal off and read the contents, but you restrain yourself. You know if the roles were reversed Arthur would respect your privacy. Sighing, you place the envelope back and meet John by the horses, wondering who Mary might be the whole way over. John is just climbing into the saddle when you approach.

“Ready to go?” He asks, settling himself down over Old Boy and checking the straps on his saddlebag.

“Sure.” You mumble, mounting up onto Athena and giving her a nice pat. Once you’re settled, the two of you start cantering out of the trails, nodding to Karen who is keeping watch. Instead of riding towards Valentine, John leads you out towards the Heartlands, into unfamiliar territory for you. You can’t help but think about those men, Milton and Ross, and wonder why in the hell you’re all robbing a train right now.

“Why does Dutch keep pushin’ this job?” You holler up, squeezing Athena to run faster after John.

“I got no idea.” He yells back to you. Once you run over the tracks the terrain changes from grass to dry, sandy dirt, and you try to keep Athena on the trail to avoid getting any rocks lodged in her shoes.

“It don’t make sense, we should be leavin. Now I don't want to, not at all, but there was Pinkertons right next to our camp, just a stone's throw away.” You shake your head, unbelieving of Dutch’s terrible call.

“Do you think they know where we are?” John asks, turning in his saddle a bit as he gallops on.

“No. No if they knew where we are they would have just came to camp… But still, approachin’ us like that when we had Jack with us? Tellin’ us, in front of him, what happened to Mac? They can all go to hell.” You hiss, and John goes quiet for a minute. All you can hear is hooves pounding as you wait for his response.

“You and Arthur had Jack?” John asks, like he's angry, but mostly surprised. Your eyebrows draw together, unsure of why it’s a big deal.

“Well, yeah. Abigail asked us to watch him for a bit, just to cheer him up.” You respond as he leads you up the bank towards Citadel Rock. John huffs loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he disapproves.

“You got a problem with that?” You bite, noticing the tension in his shoulders, and his quiet, aggressive demeanor.

“She acts like I ain’t there… for her or the boy.” John hisses, shaking his head. It grows quiet again as you think back to Abigail’s pleading tears, begging you to take Jack because John wouldn't.

“Are you?” You ask, with some judgment. John really thinks about your question, slowing Old Boy to a trot as he comes up near the slope of Citadel Rock. He left them, but he came back, that counts for something in his eyes. Surely, it counts in Abigail’s eyes too….

“Well yeah!” John says defensively, “Im tryin’... tryin’ to get money for them at least, so she can raise the boy up proper.” John says, stopping his stallion at the edge of the cliff, overlooking The Heartlands. You pull Athena up alongside him, stopping so you can look him in the eyes.

“Money don’t matter if you ain’t there for ‘em.” You whisper, no harshness or judgment in your eyes, although he takes it with such, pulling back and scrunching up his face in anger.

“The hells that supposed to mean?” He bites, dropping his reins and throwing an arm in the air towards you. You keep your calm demeanor, only wanting to help the little family. You have no quarrels against John or his parenting, but you’re the one in camp watching Abigail comfort a crying Jack when his daddy isn't there to tuck him in night after night.

“It’s just…” You think over your words, tongue darting out over your lips, “Your boys' real upset, he misses ya John. Abigail won't admit it but she misses you too.” Your wrist rests on the horn of your saddle, toying with the leather reins as you watch John’s face soften. He sighs, eyes downcast as he runs his hand over his face, careful not to catch the healing stitches on his right side.

“You think?” He asks, looking up to you, and you nod your head up and down, sure.

“I don't know what I’m doin’ Star.” John sighs, doubting himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for Jack and Abigail, he doesn't know how to. He doesn't see himself cut out to be a father or a husband, and he has a hard time believing his family wants him around.

“None of us do,” You huff a laugh, thinking of your own situation with Arthur, “You just gotta try your best to do right by them.”

John nods, offering you a small, sad smile as he leans over to tap your knee in thanks. Without another word, but with a mutual understanding, you both dismount your horses. Then it’s time to get down to work. John takes both the horses, and he hitches them down the bank a ways so they can’t be seen from the roads or the fields. As he takes them away, you pull out your binoculars. Crouching, you look through the glass and take in the infamous Heartland Oil Fields. There is one big building, the factory, on the left side of the tracks that run straight through the place. On the right are smaller buildings, you’re presuming bunks, outhouses and storage rooms. The entire place is fenced in, except for where the tracks run through and the main entrance, guarded by two armed men. You search for an oil wagon, and find a few but you’re not sure which are empty or full. Armed guards stand all around the place, and there is a damn moat of oil ponds on the right perimeter. You pull the binoculars down, hearing John return as he walks up beside you. He too is eyeing the factory, face drawn up as he thinks over a plan.

“How do you reckon we go about this?” You ask, handing him over the binoculars. He takes them, and does the same look around that you’ve just had.

“We stay here and figure out their routine. They have a checkpoint at the front gate, so if we watch them long enough we’ll know which wagons are full and when. Then we slip in at night, once the workers have gone home. We’ll only have to get past the guards.” John explains and you sigh, nodding. You look up at the sun, holding your fingers up to the horizon. It’s nearly 4PM, you’re gonna be here for a while.

“Why don’t you make us a fire or somethin? And grab my bedroll too. This is uncomfortable as hell.” You ask of him as you plop down on the dirt, taking the first watch.

— — — —

“Star?” John mumbles, and you groan, eyelashes fluttering. You curl your knees in tighter until John shakes your shoulder.

“Star, get up. It’s time to go.” John says, and those four words alone pull you from your slumber, it's time to go.

In the past six hours you and John had traded shifts a handful of times, and both picked up the same pattern. A wagon is filled every hour on the hour, and then left for only ten minutes while the guards do their rounds. Once the ten minutes are up, the wagon is taken out the front gate by a heavily armed detail, and sent off. You had suggested earlier that it might be easier to steal the wagon after it leaves the oil fields, but John had said the risk of the oil wagon getting shot would be too high. So you stick with the original plan, leaving you only ten minutes to sneak into the place and sneak out with the wagon. It’ll be hard, but it’s your only option.

“They just started their rounds, hurry up.” John explains as you scramble to your feet. You notice he has the camp taken down already, and the fire is nothing but smoking ashes as you quickly roll up your bedroll. Quietly whistling for Athena, you wait for her to arrive before strapping down your bedroll and jumping onto her back. The ten minute countdown has already begun as you and John gallop down the hill.

“Which way do we go in?” You ask, running after John towards the right flank of the fenced oil fields.

“We're gonna come up on the right side, ditch the horses a ways out, and jump the fence. Wagon should be sitting right there. Then we just drive it right out the front gate.” John hollers back, slowing Old Boy down once you can see the fence. Coyotes yip and howl in The Heartlands, making the night even more eerie as you approach the factory. With the dark and the distance, none of the guards can see your horses as you both dismount and break for the fence. You shoo both horses, signaling them to flee. And then you're running, keeping your breaths controlled and steady as you watch out for any straggling guards. John reaches the fence before you do. It’s not very high and he easily jumps over it.

“C’mon!” John whispers as you throw yourself over the fence, landing painfully on your ankle with a wince. He grabs your elbow, pulling you along with him. Once you're inside, you take a look around to get your bearings. You see a few swinging lanterns in the distance, all guards on watch, but none of them look in your direction. Most of the lanterns near the bunk houses have been snuffed out for the night, leaving you to the shadows. You turn in the other direction and see exactly what you're looking for.

“Right there!” You whisper, pointing ahead to the wagon. It’s pulled in front of one of the tents, and John helps you run towards it. Two white shire horses are hooked up to the wagon, and you’re glad to see that they’re strong and agile.

“Go on, get up there. I’ll drive.” John says, hushed as he breaks away from you to get on the left side of the wagon. You’re not sure how much time you have, but surely it’s not much. Your heart pumps loudly in your ears as you climb up the side of the wagon, ignoring the slight pain in your ankle. John clambers up, and just as he reaches the bench seat you hear a low, deep growl. You snap your head around to catch the source and the blood runs from your face at the sight of a massive bloodhound. A guard dog. His jaw snaps as he snarls at you with a warning.

“John…?” You whisper, so quietly that he barely hears. He turns and sees the dog, and his eyes flicker from it to the guards walking on the other side of the factory. The dog's hackles are raised as it snarls, showing its teeth. You know that if it barks, or alerts the guards in any way, you’ll both be caught. John shushes it and slowly starts to roll the wagon away, quietly cueing the horses onward. The dog snarls again, snapping its jaws as you quietly ride the wagon away.

“What do we do? What if it alerts someone?” You whisper, heart racing. If the dog alerts a single guard, you’ll have every person in the facility shooting at you.

“I don’t know, drive like hell, I guess.” John offers as you watch the dog. John has the horses going at a nice trot towards the entrance, and sweat runs down your brow as the dog runs after the wagon. You’re just about to breach the front gate when it happens- when the bloodhound does what bloodhounds do. It bays, and it bays loud.

"What is it boy? What ya find?" Someone hollers, and a lantern flicks on in one of the tents. John flicks the reins over the horse's backs harshly and they pick up a canter towards the front gate.

“Shit!" You hiss as the dog continues, head tossed up in the air as guards start to come out and find the disturbance. One man comes out from a tent, still in pajamas with a rifle in hand. Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you.

“Right there! They’re takin’ a wagon!” The barely clothed man yells, and John curses as he smacks the horses with the reins again, and they take off. More guards and workers seem to come out and see you all escaping, and everyone readies their rifles. John steers the horses out the main gate just as bullets start to whiz past your head.

“Stop them!” Another guard calls out, “Get the damn law!”

Bullets ping against the wooden wheels of the wagon, and buzz through the air past your head. You lean your head down to protect yourself as you grab your carbine from around your shoulder, good thing you grabbed those bullets.

“Shoot somethin’!” John yells, maneuvering the horses along the roads in the direction of Dewberry Creek.

“Im tryin!” You yell back, loading your carbine before popping up and taking down two guards who were shooting from behind the fence. A few bullets ping against the side of the wagon, and you gasp, realizing how quickly it could go up in flames. You pop up from the bench again, and fire into the chests of three men who were running after the wagon.

“Watch the damn oil, you morons!” One of the guards yells to his men. You shoot down three more men before you have to reload again. John is getting you further from the oil fields, and the flashing of gunfire gets farther away until two riders come out after the wagon. You’re still filling up the magazine when they ride up on you, and John ducks, yelling something. A few more bullets whiz passed before you stand up and shoot both men down from their horses. You pant, ducking as three more riders gallop after you both. John has the horses running at a dizzying pace as you stand, taking down two men. You're extra careful not to shoot or hurt the rider's horses as you come up and shoot the last man.

“Is that the last of them?” John yells as you pant, wiping sweat from your brow and slumping back into your seat.

“Yeah, that's all.” You breathe heavily, tossing your carbine strap back over your shoulder. You whistle, and turn around to watch for Athena. John does the same, and luckily after a few minutes, both come running behind the wagon.

“Where we takin’ this again? I know you said the creek, but specifically?” You ask, taking your hat off and setting it in your lap to untie your braid. You pull the cloth tie out, running your fingers through the waves that are now down your back.

“We’re droppin’ it near this torn down house. I’ll leave the horses go and we'll come back for it when the train comes through.” John explains, and you nod.

It’s a bit of a ride, especially with the pace you go at. The horses are exhausted and scared from the shootout, so John doesn’t push them past a trot. It's nice to just relax in the passenger seat, and you focus on the humming of bugs and frogs while your heartbeat settles. It's a cloudy night, the kind where a cold fog settles over the place, but you don't mind. It's still beautiful. The moon pokes through the fog in a hazy glow, offering some light for John to lead you to Dewberry Creek. He winds the wagons down the open hills until you reach a small trail along a big dried up creek bed.

"Guess the creek ain't fairin' so well." You point out, watching as coyotes yip and run through the dried up creek.

"Guess not." John offers, pulling the wagons toward a structure. It looks like a little house that burned down. The foundation is intact, along with the fireplace and support beams, but the rest has burned away.

"We pull them off right here." John says, turning the horses to walk in between the house and a patch of trees. He starts to slow them down, and you hop from the wagon before it stops. Immediately you jog around the backside to check the cargo.

"Shit, John! Shit!" You hiss, taking in the oil wagon that is riddled with random bullet holes. There's about five or six, and no more oil leaks from them. You knock on the side of the wagon as John jumps down, groaning when the wagon sounds hollow.

"All the oils' gone." You sigh, rubbing your face as John paces around the backside of the wagon. Athena grows antsy from the upset, and she stomps and rears lightly.

"Now what the hell do we do?" You ask angrily, calling Athena over to comfort her. You hand her an oatcake to munch on and stroke her neck as John comes up with a plan. Athena's gentle nickers calm you down, and you take a deep breath as she leans into your hand. John is standing back from the wagon, hands on his hips as he thinks it over.

"It'll work just the same. The conductor won't know if it's full or not." John says, biting his cheek and you sigh.

"We can't just go get another one." John huffs, "That oil factory is on high alert now."

"You're sure it'll work?" You ask, stepping towards him with raised eyebrows.

"It'll work." He reassures you. You nod, sighing and waking towards the front of the wagon where the two white shire horses are hooked up. John does the same on the other side, and you both slice the leather harness straps, freeing the horses.

"When's it comin' through?" You ask, patting the shire horse to run off.

"Tomorrow night." John says, and your stomach aches at the thought. Only twenty four hours until your first train job.

Athena and Old Boy are grazing next to each other just a short walk away from the wagon, and you and John silently walk towards them, sheathing your knives and watching as the pair of white shire horses run up over the hill, bucking and whinnying.

"You ever rob a train before?" John asks, looking over at your anxious expression. You shake your head, coming up to Athena.

"No, afraid not. Just drunken idiots usually." You chuckle, and John smiles.

"Y'know I'm glad it was Arthur's watch you stole, and not mine back in Tumbleweed. I probably never would have noticed, and you'd still be runnin' all over hell in the west." John chuckles, and you smile at the memory, mounting onto Athena.

"Still can't believe he brought ya back like he did, but I'm glad for it." John says, climbing onto his stallion. Your eyebrows pull together lightly at his remark.

"Why's that?" You ask, cueing Athena into a canter with John behind you.

"Arthur, he ain't never brought someone back to camp before you, and he throws a big fuss when someone new comes in. He gets all pissed and leaves for a few days. He says it's 'easier to lie low with less people.' Musta seen somethin' in you, though." John hollers up to you, and your features soften. You wonder why Arthur chose differently for you, why he brought you back to camp.

"He's different with you." John says, galloping alongside you, and you have to push Athena further ahead to hide the blush on your cheeks. You want to quip something back, but you come up short because you know he's right. You've heard the same testament from each of the girls, Hosea, and Arthur himself.

It grows quiet as you gallop through The Heartlands, avoiding the roads and any lingering lawmen. It's late, near midnight when you finally get close to camp. You can hear the cheers and laughter from the road, and you smile back at John.

"Guess they found him." You chuckle, trotting Athena under the fallen tree into camp. When you breach the trees, coming into the little opening, the sight has you laughing. Camp is lighter than it's been in a while. Sean is standing on a crate giving some grand speech with everyone gathered around, and by the sound of it he's already drunk. You hitch Athena, and John nudges your elbow.

"Reckon I'm gonna go be with my family. Thanks for your help." John pats your back before walking off towards the camp. You smile, taking off the straps of Athena's saddle and placing it over the hitching post before walking towards the crowd.

"Get a load of this bastard." Arthur huffs, walking up beside you with two whiskeys in hand, gesturing to Sean. He hands you a drink, and you smile, glad to be home.

"Found him strung up in a damn tree surrounded by bounty hunters."

"A-and I owe my life to old English over 'tere!" Sean points to Arthur, "Yep, 'tats right! Old grumpy Arthur Morgan! Come to save me, ya did! You're my brother, ya arsehole!" Sean laughs heartily, jumping down from the crate and approaching the two of you.

"Miss!" Sean calls out to you, and Arthur chuckles, sipping his drink. Sean comes to you with a big toothless grin, a contagious one, and wraps you in a hug.

"Ah, I've already got the gossip from Ms. Jones, callin ya Star now, eh?" Sean asks, letting you go before nudging you with his elbow, "It's fittin! Y'know they say you twose are tied together like glue!" Sean winks at you lightly, nudging you and gesturing to Arthur.

"I know a couple good spots for a shag if you two need a getaway. N' I know an Irishman if you get tired a' this ol'-" Sean starts, pointing to Arthur, but Arthur has had enough.

"Would you please shut up?" Arthur bites, hand pulling away from the bridge of his nose as you giggle. Sean puts his hands up in mock surrender.

"I was just teasin'! Only pullin' yer leg!" Sean chuckles, tipping his hat to you before backing away and rejoining the crowd.

"I did not miss that kid." Arthur sighs, leading you towards the campfire where Javier sits, playing a tune. Everyone is in good spirits, especially as Hosea enters with Dutch and two huge, full cases of alcohol, announcing the return party.

"Yes you did." You tell Arthur, smirking as he sits down on the wolf pelt covered log. You sit down right next to him, closer than what's expected, but you're growing used to the proximity, finding comfort in it even. Sean is talking loudly to the girls as everyone gathers around the crates of hooch. The bottles pass around quickly as Javier picks up a new tune. It's one that everyone knows, and you smile.

"Cielito Lindo." You remark with a chuckle as Javier picks up the rhythm on his guitar. More people gather around the fire. Dutch, John, the girls, Uncle, Lenny, even Abigail and Jack join in as Javier starts to play. Jack sits on John's lap, nestled right next to Abigail, and you smile at them.

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone hollers out, not sure of the lyrics or their meaning, but enjoying the energetic song. Even Arthur sings along, and you giggle at his steadily behind, off key tune.

"¡Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito lindo, los corazones!" Javier sings out, passionately stringing the guitar as a few people clap along and laugh. The smile on your face is brighter than it's been in a while as you watch the weight lift off of the gang's shoulders. Arthur is smiling, and for that you are very grateful. You'd do anything to see him like this more often, carefree and happy. Javier continues the song verse, and everyone claps along until the chorus comes.

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone calls out again, and you hold your drink up a little as you sing it. Javier continues the song, and you chuckle as Jack pulls Abigail up from her seat to dance with him. He spins around and hops with very little rhythm, just having fun. Arthur chuckles beside you, eyes bright as they lay upon the same scene.

"You want another drink?" Arthur asks, noticing that your first is nearly gone. You shake your head.

"No thanks, think I'm cuttin' myself off for the night." You say, handing the bottle over for him to finish.

"I'm surprised you drank at all after that mess in Valentine." Arthur chuckles as Javier sings out the song's verse.

"I only had one. Don't plan on bein' that sick ever again, and we got one hell of a job to do tomorrow." You whisper, mind lingering on the train job. You'd like to drink, just to forget about it, but heading into it with a foggy mind is the opposite of what you need. Arthur sighs, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt.

"We do." He remarks, eyes flickering up to Dutch. Arthur can't understand why Dutch is pushing this job right now with the Pinkertons so close. But he trusts Dutch, and knows he'll lead them out of it. You're not so sure. Dutch is watching you from across camp, a snake-like glint in his eye. You can see the way he wants to use you, to play you like his chess piece and defeat some great power. It's useless, it's ridiculous. An outlaw runs from the law, but Dutch is challenging it, intentionally aggravating it. It's a dangerous game.

"I got a bad feeling about this job, Arthur." You bring up that gut feeling again, and you know you're right. You don't trust this job, and something is going to go wrong.

"I know you do… You and John get that wagon today?" Arthur asks as Javier picks up a different song on his guitar.

"We got the wagon just fine, but it's empty. We were caught red handed and they shot it to hell, all the oil leaked out." You sigh, embarrassed to admit the failure to Arthur, "John says it'll work just fine though, the conductor won't know if it's empty or not." You add as Arthur curses.

"Enough about that, why don't we just enjoy the party?" You ask, wanting to talk about anything other than the train job and the damn empty wagon. Arthur taps your knee with his knuckles.

"Sure." He says, offering you a small smile and you release a breath. Javier is playing a new song now, one you don't recognize, but it's a joyful tune, light and happy.

"Arthur!" Marybeth calls from across the fire, giggling and trodding over towards you both with a big, bright smile.

"Yes, Miss Gaskill?" Arthur asks as Marybeth comes forward and grabs one of his hands.

"Dance with me?" She asks, leaning back in an attempt to pull him from his seat. He chuckles, looking over to you for a moment with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out-" Arthur starts, but you shove him upwards by his shoulder, laughing.

"Go on!" You encourage, shooing them with your hands. Marybeth giggles as she pulls Arthur away, and he turns around to shoot you a glare, with pink cheeks. You chuckle, looking after them as she takes him away from the fire. She pulls him just near the back of Dutch's tent, beside the poker table. He takes her hand, standing awkwardly far from her as the other rests on her waist. You can't help but snort as he starts to dance.

He's awful. Truly the man can't dance, but it's just another quirk that you love about him. He swings side to side with her, arms loosely flinging about, and even though it looks ridiculous they both have huge smiles. A few others have joined, and now Dutch spins Molly around eloquently, and Karen and Sean cling to each other, drunk as ever. Your eyebrows pop up in surprise at the two of them. You had only seen Sean in passing before Blackwater, but Karen had never mentioned they were together.

Your eyes flicker back to Arthur and Marybeth. They still dance merrily, but Marybeth seems to be scolding Arthur over something, arguing with him. Your eyebrows pull together as he huffs, bickering with her like a sibling would. Javier's song crescendos to an end, and as the claps die down, he starts a new one. You recognize it immediately, Ángel de Amor. It's a slower paced song, a sweet and romantic one. People join their own conversations as the song begins, leaving Javier to quietly carry the tune on his own. As it begins, Marybeth and Arthur's argument seems to come to a head as Marybeth gives him one final scold, and then walks away from him with a big smile. Confused, your eyebrows pull together as Arthur returns to you, but he doesn't sit down. He stands in front of you, extending his right hand down to yours.

"Dance wit' me?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"I don't know, you gonna trip me?" You ask, smiling up at him. The nervousness breaks away as he chuckles.

"Not tonight." He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

"C'mon." He whispers, leading you past the campfire towards the front of his tent, far enough away from the campfire for some privacy.

Arthur pulls you into the same goofy dance as he did with Marybeth, and you smile brightly. Arthur's sure that your smile could outshine the stars, evoking that joy from you is one of the better things he's done in his life, something he wants to keep doing.

"¿Quién te cortó las alas, mi ángel? ¿Quién te arranco los sueños hoy?" Javier sings softly as Arthur dances with you.

"Y'know, I'm sorry to say this Arthur, but you can't dance for shit." You chuckle, glancing down at his feet that move with very little rhythm.

"Oh I can. I'm just havin' fun. You shoulda seen me in my ballroom days." Arthur quips, and you laugh. You're sure he's joking, how Arthur could willingly be put in a ballroom is beyond you, it's surely a joke. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your laugh, wondering if you're seriously doubting him.

"You weren't never in a ballr-" You start, but are cut off with your own gasp as Arthur pulls you tightly against him. His hand snakes to your waist, his other clasps your hand tightly as he stands up straight and tall with a raised eyebrow. His body is stiff, but relaxed all the like, he's collected in his movements, experienced, as he leans you down, dipping you. Your eyes are wide in shock, as he holds you in the dip with a cocky smirk. Your heart rate pounds with him pulled so tightly against you, your neck exposed and hair cascading down as he bends you backwards. Then he brings you back up, chuckling.

"You continue to surprise me more and more every day, Arthur." You chuckle, still in disbelief, "Where in the hell did you learn that?" You ask, heart beat returning to normal as he pulls you against him again, swaying you in a very simple slow dance.

"Had to take lessons once when I was younger. Didn't care for it at all, but I was an idiot back then." Arthur says, and you hum, wondering if these fancy dancing lessons have anything to do with the letter in his tent.

"Ángel, Ángel, ángel de amor. No te abandones." Javier continues the song as Arthur pulls you a little closer to him, hand warm on your waist.

Your cheeks flush, hidden away in his chest as Arthur sways with you on the grass. A few eyes linger on you both, but Arthur turns your back to them so you never know. He's enjoying the moment. You haven't left yet, haven't walked away with blushed cheeks or made an excuse as to why you can't dance with him, and that has to count for something he's sure.

It grows quiet between the two of you as you rest your head against his shoulder and sway with him. Soon your arm grows tired, so Arthur snakes both of his around your waist and you place yours on his chest. It's incredibly vulnerable for you to be like this, but you trust Arthur. He hasn't pushed you. Abigail nudges John across the camp, nodding her head to you, and a few more eyes linger on you both. Arthur ignores them, keeping you in a position so that you can't even see the nosey stares.

"You look beautiful." Arthur whispers, eyes looking down at you, watching as the wind tousles your hair and your dark red shirt brings out your complexion beautifully. Your eyes sparkle up at him, but you blush and hide them away in his shoulder as he sways you to the music.

"Arthur, stop." You chastise, cheeks red as you hide them. You're a bit upset that he's ruined the mood, taken your mind from simple dancing to the conundrum of your heart. He hums deeply, nodding his head.

"You ain't ready yet, I know… I'll wait 'til you are. For you, I will." Arthur whispers, and tears begin to pool in your eyes, "And if you decide you don't want any a' this, that's okay too. I'm still your best friend." Arthur whispers, and tears run down your face silently, soaking into his dark shirt.

"I'll dance with you for real one day, somewhere nice." Arthur whispers, and you look up to his green eyes. They soften when they see the tears falling from your own. You're thinking of a proper response when Arthur speaks up for you.

"S'okay. You don't gotta say anything." Arthur whispers, thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek. You sniffle, hands clinging to the lapels of his shirt as the music continues on for a bit longer.

"Yo no siento el que me hayas querido. Yo no siento el que me hayas amado." Javier sings, strumming his guitar.

Arthur's heart aches, holding you like this, swaying with you and knowing you won't allow yourself to open up. He places his chin atop your head, inhaling deeply before letting the breath go with his worries. You're here now, that's all he can ask for.

Your heart aches just the same. It's torn in two, both sides fighting for different things. One is fighting for what you know: independence, freedom, and solitude in the west without being held down by a gang. And the other is fighting for what you want: family and friendships, the safety of numbers, purpose and most of all him.

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut while blocking the thoughts out, letting yourself enjoy the moment.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." You whisper, and he leans back, unsure if he's heard you right.

"What on earth are you apologizin' for?" He asks as Javier's song comes to a bittersweet end.

"Me… us." You whisper, gesturing to him and yourself. You're a mess, unable to get your feelings in order, unable to figure out what you want, and to tell him. You feel awful, dragging him along without ever fully opening up to him but it's so hard.

Arthur takes your hands in his own, and you look up to his eyes.

"Cut that out. Don't you apologize to me, ya hear? Not for this." Arthur says, no room for argument and you nod.

"Now c'mon. Plenty of people waitin' for us at the fire." Arthur says, pulling you by the hand towards the camp. You pass by John's tent, feeling a little better.

With a small smile on your lips, you walk on with him. That is until you hear a shuffling from John's tent, and a groan. You stop dead in your tracks, looking up to where John and Abigail sit next to Jack by the fire. If they're at the campfire… who's in their tent?

"C'mere ya little minx!" Sean chuckles from inside the tent. Your jaw drops, and your hand falls slack from Arthur's. He turns at your reaction, catching the same scene.

"Isn't this John's tent?" Karen asks, and you hear the ripping of buttons immediately. You look at Arthur with wide eyes, and a slack jaw, chuckling in horror.

"Eh, it's not like he's usin' it anyways!" Fabric hits the floor as you and Arthur stare at the closed tent in shock, "Ah, you're beautiful Karen Jones, beautiful, I love ya! And I love these too!" Sean chuckles and your cheeks burn red.

"Oh." Karen whispers, disappointed in something as you start to laugh.

"Meet Macguire junior!" Sean hollers, and immediately Arthur clasps his hand over your mouth to quiet the loud laughter that was about to fall from it.

"Is- is that it?" Karen asks, and you're nearly wheezing as Arthur keeps his hand over your mouth, chuckling himself until you're out of earshot from their tent.

"Oh my god." You laugh until tears form in your eyes, and Arthur is laughing as well. You've managed to escape in front of Arthur's tent to avoid the show those two are putting on. Once your laughter dies down, you wipe your eyes, moving them to the campfire once more.

Abigail has taken Jack into her lean-to next to Strauss's wagon to lie down for the night, and some of the girls along with Dutch and Molly have retired for bed.

"You comin' back to the fire?" Arthur asks, following your gaze. You look up to him, then to the festivities, biting your cheek.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually." You whisper, feeling bad for bailing so soon. You're exhausted from the oil wagon today, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow. Arthur’s face falls a bit as he glances at the party behind him, then to his pocket watch.

"So soon?" Arthur asks, looking a little disappointed.

"I'm sorry Arthur, it's just with the train tomorrow… I want to be well rested with a clear head." You whisper.

"I understand." He whispers, it's past one in the morning, and he knows you're tired, "I reckon I'll stay up for a bit yet, keep these boys in line… Get some sleep, Star." Arthur whispers, coming forward to gently chastise you, tapping your temple, "and stop worryin' about the train. It'll go just fine." He offers with a smile before backing away.

"Night Arthur." You mumble, attempting to follow his instructions and release your anxieties.

"G'night, Star."

— — — —

The next morning, you wake up earlier than expected. You don't know what time it is, still haven't replaced Arthur's pocket watch from where it was left behind in Blackwater. But it's quiet enough for you to know that no one else is up. You stretch in bed, enjoying the feel as your achy joints pop. You flex your ankle, noticing that the ache has subsided from your less than stellar landing yesterday, and then you're getting up.

You pull on a dark green overshirt, one of your favorites, a black pair of jeans that button up the whole way, and a little white neckerchief, tied in the front. It's a cute outfit, and you hum, checking yourself over before re braiding your hair and topping it with your black hat. Then you're on the move, in search of some coffee.

You find that you were wrong, you're not the only one up. You chuckle as Jack whizzes up to you, more excited than you've ever seen.

"Aunt Star!" He jumps excitedly, taking your hand and pointing to the hitching posts, "look!" He shouts, giggling.

Your eyebrows knit together at the sight of Kieran taking on the role of the camp farrier. He has a very grumpy Balius with him, and he's working on pulling the nails from the shire's massive shoe.

"Kieren's shoin' the horses…? You ask, confused as to why Jack's so excited, then a chuckle sounds out from your right. Arthur is leaning over his shaving station, face partially covered in shaving cream as he trims his mustache and beard with a barber's blade. You smile at the sight, something you've not seen him do before. Of course he shaves with an incredible amount of detail and care, just like everything else he does.

"Well…" Arthur taps the blade against his pail of water before returning it to his cheek, "when Kieran's done, little Jack here will have four new shoes for playin' horseshoes' with everyone. We haven't been able to play in a long while, not since before you joined us." Arthur explains, and you smile at the idea.

"Well then I can't wait!" You say, rubbing some dirt off of Jack's cheek before he runs off, on his way to tell his very hungover daddy about the ordeal.

"You're good with him. He really seems to care about you." Arthur remarks and you smile.

"Ah, it's nothin'. He's a good kid." You mumble, remembering your earlier task of needing coffee, and you spot the percolator from across camp near Pearson's stew pot. You wonder if it's even full, with so few of the gang members awake.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?" You ask, but Arthur stops you.

"Already made ya some. It's sittin on my table, should still be hot." He says, wiping the extra cream from his face with a damp towel.

"On the ball this morning, are we?" You ask, chuckling as you move inside his tent to find a steaming tin cup of coffee. You gratefully accept the bitter coffee, enjoying the way the cup warms your hands and the caffeine wakes your mind.

"Well I need a favor." He asks, turning towards you, "Ride with me?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, seeing that he's bribed you, but you nod anyway.

"Sure, where to?" You ask as he comes around the side of his tent, leading you to the large map plastered to the side of his wagon.

"Think right here is a good spot." He taps the map right over a little marshy field labeled Heartland Overflow.

"Why are we goin' all the way out there?" You ask, eyeing over the map. The marsh is near a spot marked Emerald Ranch, a place you haven't heard of before.

"There's a feller nearby that runs a fence. I managed to steal some stuff from the camp where they had Sean, reckon I'll head down and sell it off. Then I figure me n' you can spend the mornin' there. I know you're worried about this train, we can just rest away from camp till it's time." Arthur explains, pulling out his hunting knife to sharpen the blade as he does.

"Okay, that sounds nice." You smile, releasing a breath before taking a sip from your coffee, "Should I take my stuff for the train or will we be back?" You ask, gesturing to your tent.

He follows your gaze, thinking for a moment.

"Ya better take it, I don't know how long we'll be out." He mumbles, and you nod before walking back towards your tent. Amidst your anxieties, you had packed everything you might need for the train: your guns, mask, canned goods in case you get stuck away from camp, extra ammo and the shotgun you'd found at Six Point cabin. Looking over your bed and nightstand just to make sure you haven't missed something, you back out of the tent.

"Kieran done with Balius?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet as to not wake up the many sleeping, hungover gang members.

"Looks to be just about." Arthur says, nodding to where Kieran drops Balius's back hoof to the ground, giving him a pat.

"C'mon then. I'll lead the way." He adds.

You both take your time tacking up the horses. For once, there's no rush to be anywhere. You brush Athena's golden coat thoroughly, petting her and sneaking her treats while Arthur does the same for his stallion. You ease the saddle on her, tightening the cinches just enough before mounting up.

"Ready?" You ask, looking down to Arthur with a chuckle as he is just putting Balius's bridle on.

"Just a minute." He says, rather grumpily. And you wait for him, loosening your reins so that Athena can graze while he clambers up onto his massive horse. Once he's up, he nods for you to follow him out of camp. It's a decently long ride. Emerald Ranch is pretty far out there, but it's close to Dewberry Creek, so at least you won't be far from the train come dark. You focus on the scenery, watching the way the landscape changes the further you ride on. As you get closer, the jutting cliffs turn to grassy plains, and bison cause the ground to shake as they thunder across the fields.

"Are we close?" You holler up to Arthur. Your back is a little sore from the long ride, and you slip your feet out of the stirrups to give your legs rest.

"Sure… Why? You feelin alright?" Arthur turns in his saddle, glancing over your form to check. Really you don't feel alright. You didn't sleep much last night, truthfully you're not sure how Arthur is awake because he slept less than you. You're still not able to shake your nerves either.

"Yeah, just tired is all." You semi lie, but Arthur isn't fooled.

"I'll take you to the Overflow first. You can set us up a proper picnic while I run this stuff down to the fence. Sound good?" Arthur asks, turning Balius off the main road.

"Yeah. You brought a picnic?" You smile, noticing that Arthur's saddlebags are bulkier than usual. You should have noticed earlier that they're stuffed to the brim.

"I did. Nothin' fancy but I figured you might get hungry while we're out here." Arthur answers, and you chuckle, wondering what treats he's packed for you. You trot through the grass, coming upon a little collection of grassy ponds. This must be Heartland Overflow. It's beautiful, and wildlife runs about, scattering at the sound of the horse's hooves.

"Why don't you take my bag n' find us a nice spot?" Arthur asks as you ride up alongside Balius. He turns in his saddle, untying the knots that hold his saddle bag on before slumping it over Athena's croup.

"Okay. Don't take too long or I'm gonna be havin' this all for myself." You admit, chuckling as you turn Athena away, separating from Arthur.

Arthur shakes his head with a smile before pushing Balius into a canter towards a green-roofed barn in the distance. Once he's down the other side of the hill and you can't see him any longer, you turn to your surroundings.

Across the pond is a large weeping willow. It provides a perfect amount of shade, and makes a beautiful spot for the morning. You kiss to Athena, urging her to walk through the ankle deep water toward the other side. Water splashes up and soaks onto your boots as Athena trots through it, enjoying the coolness on her legs. Once you're on the other side, under the weeping willow, you slide down from your mare. You don't bother to hitch her. She trusts you enough to come when you call, and you want her to enjoy the grassy fields while she can. You take the heavy saddle bag and toss it to the ground under the willow before sitting on your knees to go through it.

First you take out a blanket, it's a big blue one, and you stand to spread it out on the grass. The wind works to your advantage as you sprawl it out, making a perfect cushion for you both to sit on. Then, seated on the blanket, you pull out two cans of peaches, two bread rolls, a can of strawberries, two slices of beef jerky, and a chocolate bar. You eye the food hungrily, laying it out nice for when Arthur comes back. Then, just to double check, you reach back into the bag. Your fingers brush against an unfamiliar smooth texture, and your eyebrows pull together as you grip it, taking it out.

Immediately your eyes go wide as, from the bag, you bring out Arthur's journal. You hold the precious book in your lap, looking down to the heavily used pages before looking up at the ridge.

You shouldn't… but Arthur won't be back for some time and you really want to know what he's written. You've only seen the contents of his journal once, back when he showed you in Horseshoe.

Releasing a breath, you curse yourself, deciding just to flip to one page and then put it back. You run your thumb across the pages, flipping to one of the more recent entries. Immediately you smile, chuckling as your eyes run across the page briefly. It's a drawing of you and Lenny. He's leaning on the bar, drinking a beer and you're dancing in front of the pianist. Arthur had managed to capture the moment perfectly, as if he had paused time and drawn it. You scan down your smiling face, looking back to you in the form of Arthur's sketching. Even in the drawing you can see the drunken haze in your eyes, the freedom as you danced to the piano to your heart's content.

Then your eyes flicker to the other side of the page where a neatly written entry is scribbled diagonally on the paper.

In some ways I hope I never forget this night. In others, I wish to wipe it from my mind entirely. It seems that alcohol loosened Star's lips, and I guess it loosened mine too. I just hope I don't come to regret the things I said, the things I remember at least.

You look up from the journal, jaw slack as you attempt to remember what happened that night. What had you said? What had Arthur said?

You swallow thickly, looking down to the journal with some worry before flipping to the next page.

Mary sent me a letter. Said she's in town and heard talk of us in Valentine. She wants to see me, said she misses what we had. I used to. I used to miss her a lot, but I reckon that's all old business now. I think I've finally put Mary in the past, moved on after all these goddamn years. I got some hope now, something good for once.

You look up from the journal with your jaw open again. His journal has left you with more questions than answers, and you huff. Mary clearly meant something to Arthur at one point, perhaps an old fling? But the girls knew of her, so she had to mean something more.

With a newfound sour mood, you tuck Arthur's journal back into his bag. Is it jealousy you feel? Or anger? You're not sure, but without having met her, Mary manages to get under your skin. You wonder if she's pretty, and if she has the money to wear nice dresses and makeup. Then you sigh, frustrated. Even though his journal is stuffed back into his bag, you can feel its leather cover burning into your skin, bugging you.

Hooves sound out from the ridge line, and you look up to see Arthur appear over the hill. He's cantering down towards you, satchel lighter now that he's pawned off some items. Even though you're glad he's back, you can't help the annoyed curiosity that bubbles up in your stomach.

Oblivious, Arthur rides up to the blanket before dismounting.

"Good spot." He says, sending Balius off after grabbing a flask from his satchel, "Turns out old Seamus sells too." Arthur chuckles, tossing the moonshine flask down onto the blanket by your legs.

Attempting to crack a smile, you take the flask and unscrew the lid. Arthur rests down on the blanket beside you, sitting just a few inches from you. Once the lid is undone, you take a swig of the alcohol. It burns, more so than anything you've ever drank, and you cough, throat raw from the stuff.

"Jesus." You cough, handing the flask back to Arthur.

"Moonshine. Nasty stuff." Arthur jokes, taking a drink from the same flask. He doesn't seem to mind it, only groaning once it's down. Arthur sees the distant look on your face, he notices that you haven't touched any of the food laid out either.

"You okay?" Arthur asks, a little crease in between his eyebrows. You look upset, and Arthur hopes that you're not worrying about the train.

"Who's Mary?" You blurt out, not even realizing you've actually said it out loud until Arthur's face draws up.

"What?" Arthur asks, looking almost offended, and very surprised.

"I asked you, who's Mary?" You repeat, looking up to Arthur. Your tone is irritated, and you realize that you're ruining the picnic, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You're mad, mad because Arthur has managed to keep this from you, and apparently you're the only one in the damn gang that doesn't know about her.

"How do you even know about Mary?" Arthur scoffs, eyes squinted as he leans back from you.

"Jesus, I didn't realize she was a secret. I guess I just wanna know why she's callin' you out to her house all the sudden when I haven't even heard of her before." You bite.

Arthur's demeanor changes then, shifting to the angry, threatening man that you've only seen a handful of times in action. Part of you wants to shy away, but you push your shoulders back and meet him head on with the same stubborn aggression.

"Did you read my damn mail?" Arthur hisses, glancing at you, and then down to the bag at your side. Everything seems to click in his head then, and he huffs humorlessly.

"No. No you read my goddamn journal, didn't you? Just couldn't keep your nosey eyes off them pages huh?" He bites, picking up the bag just to toss it at your feet. The contents spill out in your lap, and his open journal falls out alongside the candies he had brought for you, the yellow ones.

"Y'know I hope you read it all. I hope you read every damn page, cause then you won't have to ask anymore questions. We wouldn't be playin this damn game…" Arthur hisses, pacing as he begins to berate you. "Why do you have the right to ask me about Mary when you haven't told me shit about your past? You can't even talk to me. You can't open up at all, closed off like a damn bottle, but you have no problem pryin' into everybody else's lives!" He growls, waiting for you to bite back.

On the ground, feeling like a fool, your lip trembles. You know he's right. He's hit the nail right on the head with his assumption, but it hurts nonetheless. You've stepped too far, you know, but it doesn't stop Arthur from overstepping too.

"Heard you was pryin' into John's business too. God- you're a hypocrite. Did you think at all about your inability to handle your own shit before you went and did that?" Arthur fumes, and you bring your knees up to your chin. Arthur is waiting for your retort, for your comeback. He knows it'll come, but with his back to you, waiting, it doesn't. You always have a retort, and your silence is louder than any insult you could have thrown back at him. When he turns back towards you, already realizing he's crossed a boundary, he sees the tear track running down your cheek.

"Don't." You whisper, sniffling back the tears that fall so often now, "I can take this from anyone but you." You whimper, head falling to your knees.

When Arthur's eyes land upon you he doesn't know what to do. You look so small, crumpled up on the ground, a mess. He wants to argue with you, to be mad about the journal, but at the same time he wants to comfort you. He knows what you're battling right now, and he knows he shouldn't have brought it up. Feeling like an ass, Arthur slumps to the ground at your side again. He lays back against the blanket, looking up at the sky before sighing.

"Mary was my fiancé. Long time ago. Ain't talked to her in years." Arthur admits, and you peek up from your knees, wondering what sparked the change in his tone.

"Now that's all I'm giving you until you tell me somethin too. But for now, eat somethin. We gotta get movin soon." Arthur says, coldly.

— — — —

It's nearly dark. There's just enough light for you to make the trip over to Dewberry Creek. You lead the way silently, still not having said a word to Arthur since the argument. You don't know what to say. Apologies aren't exactly your strong suit. You're mad. Mad at Arthur, but mostly mad at yourself for ruining the day with your selfishness, your hypocrisy as Arthur put it.

You can hear Sean rambling as you approach the old building, and you trot Athena up to where the wagon is hidden.

"Why the hell are you here?" Arthur snaps at Sean, clearly still irritated from earlier. You've put him in a sour mood, one that everyone is going to have to deal with.

"Oi I’m just taggin along! Back for a day n’ already jumpin inta the action! My da always used to say that jumpin in was better than jumpin’ out! But I think he was talkin about gettin some arse!" Sean chuckles, not skipping a beat over Arthur's attitude.

"Oh, shut up." Charles groans, and at the sound of his voice you notice him leaning against one of the beams of the burned down house. John is already in the driver's side of the wagon, and Taima and Old Boy are hooked up to the front. You dismount, walking over to the wagon behind Arthur.

"Look at us! Four strong shootin men, and a lady!" Sean chuckles, climbing up on the wagon beside John who rolls his eyes.

"Shouldn't we be going over the plan?" Charles points out, climbing onto the side of the wagon to hang on, just as you and Arthur do on the other side. The wagon begins to roll out of the trees as John smacks the reins over the horse's backs.

"We roll the wagon over the tracks and leave the horses go." John explains, "They'll see the oil and stop. It's easy."

Sean turns in his seat, looking over the wagon before turning back to John.

"Yeah but t'eres no oil in the wagon." Sean points out, and collectively everyone else rolls their eyes.

"Well the conductor don't know that, so it don't matter!" John bites, irritated with everyone's doubts and questions.

"I don't like it…" You whisper, gripping onto the metal bars of the wagon as it rolls down the road, inching closer towards the train tracks.

"We ain't got much of a choice." John replies. Once the plan is set, Arthur begins ordering people around, crafting a more detailed plan for the job.

"As soon as she stops, board her. Charles, deal with the conductor and the front security. John take the passengers. Sean and Star, as soon as she slows, head to the baggage car." He orders, and you roll your eyes at the assignment he's stuck you with.

"And what are you gonna do?" Charles asks.

"I'm gonna make sure she slows."

John pulls the wagon forward, slowing the horses to a stop once the oil wagon is situated over the tracks. You jump down as John and Arthur begin untying the horses from the front, sending them away into the woods.

"Is everyone good with the plan?" Arthur hollers, and you look around, realizing that this is happening. It's inescapable now, and you'll have to deal with the anxiety in your chest.

"Yeah, we're good." Charles answers, and you nod your head, eyes fixed on the bed in the railroad tracks where the train will be approaching shortly.

"Alright everyone get in the woods!" Arthur orders, pulling his mask up over his nose before placing one of his boots on the iron track. Charles notices your hesitancy, and grips your arm to pull you towards the treeline.

"Hey, you alright?" Charles asks, pulling your neckerchief up over your nose as you've forgotten. You nod, a little too quick for his liking.

"Just nervous." You admit.

"Just stick with Sean. You'll be okay." Charles offers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You nod, focusing your attention back on Arthur.

You feel the vibration of the train long before you see it coming. Arthur's boot shakes against the track, and once he feels it coming he climbs up on top of the oil wagon. You gasp, eyes going wide as he holds his carbine in front of him, in a threatening stance on top of the wagon. He looks like nothing short of a criminal up there, a cold hearted killer. He stands on the wagon with a threatening stance, symbolizing everything that the government wishes to destroy. Feet planted on either side of the oil barrel, it doesn't appear that Arthur will be giving the law a break any time soon. The sight of him standing up on that wagon is one you're sure you'll never forget. If you didn't know Arthur, you'd be terrified.

Nothing can be heard but uneven, anxious breathing as the train comes around the corner. it's far off, too far for the conductor to see Arthur, but once the bright white headlight peeks around the bend your breath hitches in your throat.

Arthur cocks his repeater, and you watch as the train comes closer. You expect the train to blow its whistle, for the conductor to do something to warm off Arthur, but he doesn't. Your eyebrows draw together as the train continues to barrel forward, unbothered by the obstruction ahead.

"Why ain't it slowin'?" You ask, breath uneven as your heart rate picks up speed.

No one responds, watching as it continues forward. Even Arthur seems to lose his composure, stance faltering as the train continues on. It's getting closer to the wagon, and you're not sure if it'll have time to stop before it crashes.

"There's still time. Hold on." Sean says, eyes flickering up to the rapidly approaching train.

"John?! Why ain't it stoppin?!" You beg, looking frantically between Arthur and the train. Charles pulls out a pair of binoculars, looking through them to the engine car.

"Shit! He's dead or he's asleep, but either way the train isn't stopping." Charles says, stuffing his binoculars back as anxiety pangs in your chest. The train is too close now, it can't stop in time even if the conductor were to wake up.

"ARTHUR JUMP!" John screams as all four of you jog out of the woods. Arthur glances between the group of you and the train, unable to hear over the rumbling and screeching.

"JUMP!" You plead, screaming. Arthur glances at the train once more, and getting the message he jumps as far out as he can. He hits the ground hard, rolling down the slope before he stops. It's only seconds later that the train smashes into the oil wagon. You thank god it's empty, and there's no explosion, but the metallic screech hurts your ears as the train pushes the wagon over in a huge crash. Sparks fly as metal scrapes off metal, but the train carries on forward, pushing the oil wagon in front of it until itfalls off to the side.

"Why the hell didn't he stop?!" Arthur yells, whistling for Balius.

"The conductor is dead!" You yell, "Are we really still doin' this?"

Four horses come running up the hill towards you, and the boys mount up ahead of you.

"Yes! Now mount up, we can catch it before it gets to Rhodes!" John yells, and you leap onto Athena, urging her forward before you even put your feet in the stirrups. The chase is terrifying. It's hard to see in the dark, and you put full trust into Athena as she barrels forward after the train. Sean is the first to catch up, and he jumps from his horse onto the train's roof.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you run forward, watching as Charles, John and Arthur all jump onto the train.

"Star, cmon!" Arthur yells, and you try to breath as you stand in your saddle, barely able to balance. You jump as far as you can, hoping that you'll make it. The jump is terrifying, but worse is the pain as your body slams against the side of the train. Only your hands have made it to the top as you grip onto the roof, feet dangling down to the rapidly passing ground below. Then a hand grips yours, and pulls you up into the roof. You gasp, looking up to yours and Arthur's hands, muttering a small 'thanks' between trembling breaths.

"Plan stays the same. Charles, get this thing stopped!" Arthur orders, just as two armed guards climb up onto the roof.

"They're fixin' to rob the train!" One of the boys yells and starts shooting from his revolver. You unholster your own, balancing on the quick moving train as you fire twice into the man's chest. The second man breaches the top, and Sean takes him down with a headshot. The train makes you motion sick, and you have to bite down bile, forcing your eyes away from the ground.

"We're gettin' too damn close to the town!" John yells, firing into more men as they climb up onto the roof.

You whip around, looking for Charles to see if he's made progress in getting to the engine car. You don't see him on the roof, so you assume he's close.

"John! Get down there, me and Star will hold them off. Sean, get to the baggage car!" Arthur yells out. They follow his orders, jumping down to the train cars from behind you and Arthur.

"Why's there so many?" You yell over the noise as two more men fire toward you.

"I don't know, sure are a lot for an unguarded train- goddammit!" Arthur yells back.

You lose your balance as the train quickly starts to slow down. Sparks fly and metal screeches as the train begins to slow. You release a breath, reloading your revolver as more guards shoot at you from across the train cars. The train never stops, instead in one fluid movement it slows enough and then starts going backwards.

"Wait- wait, shit!" You yell as the train starts moving in reverse. Just as quickly as the train has stopped, it starts accelerating in the wrong direction, back towards Valentine.

"What the hell is happenin?" You scream back towards the engine car. You fire into one last guard, and then they stop coming up to the roof for now.

"We're goin' too fast!" You point out, losing your balance again as trees start to blur by, making you dizzy.

"Shit, I know. Just get to Sean, I'll see what's happenin' up front!" Arthur hollers, bracing himself as he jumps onto the next train car.

"Star?" Arthur yells, and you turn around, "Don't get hurt." You nod, and with that he turns, running on the rapidly reversing train towards the engine.

You try to calm down your breathing as you run across the tops of the train cars, jumping as far as you can between each one. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ears, and the train accelerating is nothing but a background noise in your head. Revolver in hand, eventually you make it to the baggage car.

"Sean you alive?" You yell, bracing yourself as you jump from the roof down onto the platform below. The land sends an ache through your knees, but you do land.

"Yeah makin out real good down here!" Sean hollers back as you enter the caboose.

"Why the hell are we in reverse?" Sean asks, stuffing a saddle bag full of cash and jewelry. You immediately get to helping him, ripping open the cupboards and stripping them of their content before shoving the precious items into Sean's bag.

"I got no idea. Arthur n Charles are dealin' with it." You respond, glancing out the window and gasping when you see that you're nearing Flatneck Station. You've crossed the state line back into New Hanover, and in less than five minutes you'll be crossing over Bard's Crossing, the infamously high railroad bridge.

"Oh my god, fuck." You curse, stuffing the bags even quicker. Shots ring out from the roof, and you gasp, neck snapping up.

"That's gotta be Arthur or Charles." You gasp. You look down the train cars to see John pistol whip a man for not giving up his money.

"Go help ‘em! I'm alright here for now!" Sean hollers, and you nod, running out of the car. Momentarily holstering your gun, you leap up onto the roof, pulling yourself up. Arthur is up there, shooting at a couple of men across the train as you run up to help him.

"You guys got the money?" He asks.

"Yeah! Why ain't we stopped?!" You yell, shooting at the men, and clipping one in the neck. He falls off the train, and you wince as his body cracks against the quickly passing ground. Just then, Charles comes running across the cars, jumping over the gaps towards you.

"Conductors dead! Doors locked and he fell on the reverse lever. I can't stop it." Charles explains, "We gotta go NOW, it's not stopping!" He yells, just as two more boys climb up onto the roof.

"Rot in hell you bastards!" One yells, and you go to reload your revolver, but it's empty. You curse, looking ahead to where the caboose is barreling towards the bridge.

A man climbs up from behind you, taking you by surprise as he knocks the gun from Arthur's hand. Arthur turns around and punches him right in the face, nose cracking as blood pours from his face.

"Get off the train! I got this bastard!" Arthur yells, and you hyperventilate, glancing between him and the bridge. Sean and John have already jumped, and you see them riding alongside the train with Athena, Taima and Balius. Charles jumps down, just as Arthur kicks the man off the side of the train. He hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Arthur turns to you, no longer asking.

"Star, go!" Arthur commands, and you gasp as another man comes up from the side of the train, pulling Arthur into a chokehold from behind.

"Get down here! We can't help him till you're out the way!" John screams up to you, and panicking, you leap. The jump is terrifying, and the land onto your saddle knocks the breath out of you. But then you're safe on Athena, barreling towards the cliffs edge where the bridge begins, waiting for Arthur to deal with the last guard.

"Does anyone have a shot on him?" Sean yells, gun aimed up at the man who is fighting Arthur. Arthur's body is bigger than the man, and at the angle you're at, it's impossible to kill him without killing Arthur. Arthur struggles, elbowing the man in the gut to break free from his chokehold.

"No!" John yells back.

"Arthur!" You scream, though futile, watching as the train gets closer to the bridge.

"I got this bastard." Arthur chokes out, coughing as he elbows the man enough to get away from his grip. You slide Athena into a stop to avoid running off a cliff as the train starts to go over the bridge. The wind howls in your ear from the elevation as you watch on in horror.

"What do we do!? John-" You whimper, feeling useless and helpless as Arthur punches the man, fists raised as they brawl atop the train.

"He'll be okay. He will. He'll get down on the other side and we'll run over and get him." John replies. All you can do is watch as the train accelerates across the bridge, and you've never been so afraid in your life. Arthur takes a punch in the gut, leaving him vulnerable.

"Does anyone have a shot!!?" Sean screams, gun raised. But Arthur is still in the way, and no one can help him, he's on his own.

Somehow the next moment happens in a lifetime, and a fraction of a second. Arthur takes a punch straight straight to the gut, and he doubles over, left vulnerable. The guard steadied himself, lifting his leg until the sole of his boot meets Arthur's stomach. The train is rolling right over the highest part of the bridge as the guard kicks out. Arthur stumbles, and the kick sends him falling over the side of the train.

All the air leaves your lungs, your eyes go wide, and everything stops as Arthur falls. You're frozen, watching as Arthur falls down past the bridge. It's a high drop, too high. Your eyes go wide as Arthur's arms stretch up, attempting to grasp onto something that isn't there as he plummets two hundred feet down to the lake below.

"No-" You breathe out, just barely a whisper as you stumble down from Athena, nearly falling from the saddle.

"Arthur!-" John gasps.

"NO!-" You scream, breaths coming in quick, uncontrollable pants as tears fill your eyes and fall out in thick rivulets. You stumble to the ledge of the bridge, on the tracks, gripping the fence so tight that your knuckles turn white.

The other three men are slack jawed, horrified. They all gasp, stunned beyond being capable to speak. When you look down, you see the rippling water where Arthur had landed, landed but not come back up.

"NO!!" You sob, unable to hold back your tears as you fall back, hands never leaving the fence. Your cries are shoulder shaking, and you can't bring yourself to care that you are sobbing in front of the other men.

"Get back to camp right now and don't get followed." John orders Charles and Sean, tears in his eyes that he quickly wipes away. They comply, silently nodding before turning their horses and galloping home, shell-shocked.

You're too stunned to notice what's going on around you, but your sobs have slowed, turned into aching, painful heaves as your nails dig into the fence, as if you holding on to it will pull Arthur back up to you.

"Star?" John whispers, so quiet from behind you. You shake your head, knowing what he's going to ask of you.

"Star, we gotta go. The law will be here soon." John tries to reason, fighting his own internal ache. You're not having it, not leaving, and John places his hands on your shoulders, begging you to come with him. You can't stop looking down at the rippling water, waiting for him to come back up, and tearing your eyes away when he doesn't, a vicious cycle.

"W-we can't leave him John. What if he- what if he's down there and he needs help?" You cry, lungs aching.

"I know. We won't. We won't leave him. But we can't help him if the law gets to us." He says, and you nod frantically, thinking over his idea.

He tries to pull you backwards, away from the bridge. You make it two steps back before the anxiety of not seeing the water wins over and your body practically shies away from John.

"I can't- I can't go, he…" You begin, biting your cheek until it bleeds, stuck in a state of shock that you can't shake.

"John, what if he didnt-" You sob, unable to finish the sentence that plagues your mind along with the image of his plummet.

"He did… Star I ain't goin back to camp missing two people, please come home." He pleads, turning as law whistles sound in the distance.

"No. I can't." You say, stern in your choice. Because what is there to go back to without him? And what if he needs help?

"Where will you go?" He asks, glancing to the whistles in the distance.

"I guess across the river so I-" your face crumbles at the idea, "so I can look for him."

John nods, whistling lowly for Old Boy. The horse trots forward, and John quickly unwraps his camp kit from Old Boy's saddle before tightening it onto Athena's.

"My camp kit. Take it, you'll need it." He turns to you then, red eyes looking into yours. "Be safe out here… and don't lose yourself. Arthurs my brother. But if he ain't back in a day or two, you gotta come home. He'd want that." John says, voice even raspier than usual as he deals with his emotion. You nod, tears filling your eyes as places his hand on your shoulder.

"If he comes back to camp I'll come for you right away." He offers, and you nod.

And then he's mounting up, offering you a bittersweet tip of his hat as he rides away. And you're suddenly alone. There's no one here to pick up your broken pieces, so you pick them up yourself, climbing into the saddle and cantering away from the approaching law whistles. You don't try to stop the tears. Some are silent, sliding down your face and dripping into your saddle, but some are loud, and you have to leave go of the reins to sob into your hands. You make it to the other side of the river thanks to Athena, with Balius trotting beside you the entire way. No one tells you what to do when something like this happens. You're lost, left to figure it out as you operate like a shell of a human being, going through the motions to avoid the law.

Once you're across the Dakota, situated just on the treeline close to the bank you slide down from your mare to sit in the grass, knees held up to your chin as you watch the water. You've never seen it so still. There's not a ripple other than the steady flow out to the lake. The law whistles get louder, and you listen for them as you numbly watch the water for hours, lost in your head. Eventually the law dissipates, giving up and going home.

You don't know if he's dead or not, but the chances of him being okay right now are bad. The bridge hangs over the horizon like a tyrant, a constant reminder of what's just happened. You try to avoid looking at it, try to avoid seeing the fall, the fear in his eyes as his feet left the train.

You can't help but drift to the fact that your last real conversation was an argument, and you ache to go back in time and spend the day at his picnic like he'd planned. He was right about you. You're a hypocrite. All Arthur has done since you met him was offer kindness when you didn't deserve it. He gave and gave and you took and took. He told you his feelings time and again through his words and his actions. And you rejected him again and again. All because you were afraid. He said it when you went fishing with Jack, he said it when you danced at Sean's party and when you were drunk under the stars. Arthur told you he would wait. He would wait until you were ready. And here you are. It appears your time is up, and Arthur has waited all he can.

You think back to that first night in Colter, what you'd told yourself that rang out to be true… good people die.

Nothing happens for a long while. You don't move, and your limbs ache from your curled up position, but you don't care. You've been watching the water for hours to no avail, but then it happens. Something small washes up on the shore, something black. And as soon as your eyes flicker towards it your face crumples, and falls into your knees with a sob.

"No, no, not him- please." You whimper to yourself quietly, realizing that he's really gone.

You wipe away your tears, finding the strength to stand up from the grass and pluck the object from the shoreline where it washed up. In your hand is an all too familiar black leather hat, wrapped with rope and adorned with a one of a kind hat ornament.

You place it on the ground by your legs, curling in on yourself as the grief overtakes you, causing your body to ache and your lungs to burn from the sobs that erupt from them.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #tfiye #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2

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octo-artist · 5 months ago

Text

Calm before the Inkstorm

Pre-war yan! Octavio x reader x platonic pre-war yan! Craig

Chapter 3: Chilly Evenings

TW: Possessive relationships, toxic mentalities,slight abuse of power, Typical Yandere shenanigans on both sides

I do not condone any of the actions in this series! If you are in a relationship like this please seek out help!

Certain parts are heavily inspired by Dissonant melodies by DriftingNova

Y/N=your name

T/C=tentacle color

E/C=eye color

Mastserlist Previous chapter Next chapter

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“Well here we are! Octavio’s already seen the place but I know you haven’t yet Y/N!” , Craig prattles on presenting the treehouse to the duo, Y/N looks up at it intrigued and Craig starts climbing up.

“Yea the dork lives here apparently”, Octavio says, moving next to the ladder waiting for Y/N to start climbing themselves, helping them up into the treehouse despite his earlier annoyance at their disobedience.

“Wow really? What’s that like? I hardly know what living outside the palace is like since I grew up there, my folks are smiths for the palace.” ,Y/N states with excitement as they climb up, Craig waiting at the top and holding out a hand for them to grab and help them up the last couple rungs, Octavio following soon after scoffing, a look of jealousy briefly flashing across his face.

“It ain’t much but I guess it’s nice to wake up to the cool morning breeze and see the sunrise from up here.” Craig sits on the edge of the deck and points towards the town and shoreline in the distance. Y/N sits nearby motioning for Octavio to join them, who when Y/N turns their attention from him picks them up and sits down with them in his lap much to their protests, Craig laughing next to them though with a bit of a worried look going unnoticed by the duo. “So Craig what’d we get from the competition?” Octavio bluntly asks startling Craig who starts to dig into his pockets. “Nothing big unfortunately but we did get some participation tokens!” He says with an awkward smile handing Octavio his token.

“The loser's token, huh?” Octavio says unimpressed.

“I thought we did surprisingly well!”, Craig responds from his spot prompting Octavio to boredly say, “Yeah, for a back-alley hack job of the Calamari Incantation!” Craig awkwardly chuckling, “Ah, l-let’s not dwell on that too much, take a moment to enjoy the view!” He motions out at the view.

Octavio looks to the side knocking on the wall a bit, “I gotta admit I’m surprised an airhead like you build a treehouse this stable.” This statement making Y/N lightly smack his shoulder with a quiet comment of “that’s rude!”

“WELL… The first time I tried, the floor broke apart.

“WHAT?!” Octavio exclaims looking at the inkling in shock and horror.

“After that mess, I went to the docks and asked a nice mechanic to help me.” Craig assures the prince.

“Ok, but? Why didja wanna live up in a tree anyway!?” Octavio questioned Craig settling back down.

“Because I overheard some locals talk about how much trouble they have with the smallfry waves in the spring.” He pauses to take a breath looking out over the lights of the town before continuing with pride, “I plan on staying one year, and up here, nothing escapes the razor sharp gaze of capt’n Craig Cuttlefish! I wanna do good with my short time on Mount Nantai by warning the folks of fishy activity~”

“BLEGH, I didn’t think you were such a goody-two-shoes” Octavio feigns disgust smirking as the mood lightens back up. Y/N lightly laughing before yawning a bit, which both the boys take notice of.

“Whatever. I'm glad you're staying a full year. That means we can crush the competition for real next time the festival rolls around.” Octavio states moving Y/N to lean up against his chest as they start drifting off slightly.

“Wait, really? You want -You want to keep the band going?” Craig says surprised, confused Octavio looks at him saying, “UUH, yeah? Why wouldn't I?”

“I thought you were mad about tonight! And you're ROYALTY! I bet there's important

stuff you-“, Craig starts rubbing the back of his neck.

“ARE YA KIDDING МЕ?! They gave FIRST PLACE to a buncha PREPPY school band geeks! We gotta take back what's ours!!” Octavio states fired up from frustration accidentally waking Y/N back up. “Ah sorry Y/N, didn’t mean to wake ya…”

“It’s ok, I probably should head on ahead back to the palace anyway, I need to get some sleep still if I’m gonna be able to function tomorrow for my duties as the gardener.” Y/N carefully standing up from Octavio’s lap who pouts a bit in response.

“Well let me at least help ya down the ladder so you don’t get hurt on the way down. Talk to ya again soon though! I’m sure tavi will join you soon enough once we finish up with our conversation.” Craig stands up helping lift the hatch and lower Y/n onto the ladder, a pang of jealousy hitting Octavio again but restraining himself as to not weird out Craig with his more possessive tendencies. Once the hatch lowers once more Craig returns to the deck and sits back down.

“Alright Tav what’s going on? I didn’t want to bring it up while they were around but I noticed y'all had some tension between y'all earlier… Everything alright between you two?” the inkling asks shocking octavio that someone like him would notice something was up.

“Everything is fine.”, Octavio scoffs, brushing him off and avoiding the question.

“I may be an airhead but even I can tell that’s bullsquid.” Craig responds with a deadpan look on his face, “come on I’m your buddy you can tell me. I know I saw you two hanging back earlier and saw the concerned look on Y/n’s face when you whispered something to them.”

“Like I said it's none of your business, let's just focus on crushing the competition next year before you go ya slimy hipster!” Octavio snaps back annoyed at the cuttlefish’s persistence to butt in on his business. Even if he had every reason to be concerned. He did let his anger get the better of him earlier and got jealous over nothing.

“Riiiiiight, well, It was a fun night otherwise, even if we didn’t win.” Craig states eventually dropping the topic in favor of talking about the two’s band again.

“Yea, the way all those people just…listened. The way they moved to the beat.” Octavio calmed down, reminiscing the competition earlier, the crowd’s faces as they played.

“Heh, the thrall of the moment is nice and all, but it’s what happens AFTER that matters.”, Craig says, holding up a finger and grinning his signature goofy grin. Confused Octavio side eyed the inkling asking, “What’s that s’pose to mean?”

Craig looks out over the mountain, the late night breeze blowing past the pair, he smiles and says, “A great song is one you remember. After the shows over, and there’s nothing to see~ The melody etches your soul and sets you free~” Octavio scoffs at this and smacks Craig's shoulder with a smirk Laughing, “PFFT! Ya sound like my kooky philosophy teacher!”

“Its true though!”Craig laughs with him, making Octavio respond, “Sure, sure, ya slimy hipster!”, he pauses before getting a giant smirk smacking his fist into his other hand he says with excitement, “Oooh, and next time we'll have a cool catchphrase like: Time ta drop beats till

ya DROP DEAD!”

Craig gives Octavio a sly grin responding with a hand on his chin, “Okay well, maybe avoid THREATENING the audience.”

The prince rolls his eyes at this saying, “C'mon. Don't throw shade at an idea just cuz it's trying something new.” At this Craig soon says deep in thought, “Huh. 'Trying something new. Out of the…”

“Try something new.... We're....” Octavio joins him in thought, but soon the two get an idea saying together, “Try something new… We're here Out of the Blue!” Both men grin at the sound of their new catchphrase, it rolling so smoothly and easily off both of their tongues. Watching the horizon the two sit in silence, the only sound being the crickets and the faint buzzing from the small zapfish nearby. Both once more deep in thought, only breaking out of their individual trances when they start to see the faintest light peek over the water.

Groaning Octavio stands up stretching, “Ah shit I gotta get back before the retainers realize I’ve snuck out or think I was octonapped.”

Also standing up Craig responds, “I’ll walk you back, I know the best route to sneak back in.” The duo climb back down to the ground, they talk as they return to the palace. “Todays gonna be rough since we were up all night, hopefully they advisors don’t notice the exhaustion.” Octavio sighs.

“Well if they do you can always just say you didn’t sleep good” Craig suggested.

“True, I’m definitely telling Y/N to take the day off cause they were up late too.” The prince says half heartedly, exhaustion clear in his voice. Eventually the duo reach the wall bordering the garden.

“Well you get some sleep Tav, wouldn’t want you passing out at any point today!” Craig says as Octavio climbs up, turning to look at the inkling “yea you too, don’t want you falling from your tree house because you’re too delirious to see straight.” He responds with a smirk before dropping back down into the garden. Creeping back into his room he changes into his sleep wear, hiding his disguise in a decorative chest. Turning to go to his bed he notices a small package on his table with a note. “I found something for you when I was out, I wasn’t able to give it to you earlier. Hope you like it, love Y/N”

He smiles a bit at the note before picking up the parcel, opening it and seeing a new octobrush maintenance kit, the comb in his last one had broken and had been using his fingers to clean out the brush for a bit, often forgetting to request a new one, the wax had also gone bad due to his past kit being of a bit lower quality, a servant who’d since been fired for cutting corners in their duties had not grabbed the correct one when given instructions to pick up a new kit, they’d tried to pocket the extra coin from their attempt to once more shirk their job. This one however he could see was much higher quality, a sturdy comb laid in the small box with a new stick of wax, stamped with the maker’s signature, as well as an application brush for the wax and a new cloth for finishing the process. There also was a small jar of conditioner for the bristles of the brush as well. He smiled at the thoughtful gesture, his prior anger completely fading and becoming a bit embarrassed at how he behaved towards them, especially when he’d seen Craig helping them up into the treehouse. “Shit, now I feel bad snapping at them like that, looks like I owe them an apology, I should return the favor and find something nice for them as well next time I get out to town with Craig.” Yawning he closes the wooden box and sets it down, turning in for the night, his kind set on making it up to his partner in the morning.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #calm before the inkstorm #captain craig cuttlefish #craig cuttlefish #craig splatoon #yandere dj octavio #dj octavio #yandere octavio #splatoon3 #dj octavio x reader #splatoon octavio #yandere writer #yandere splatoon x reader #yandere splatoon #splatoon fanfiction #splatoon x reader #yandere fanfiction #x reader fanfic

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lookismaddict · 2 years ago

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Lookism Chapter 438 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)

God. It’s like every week, I get even more tired than the previous week. What has my life come to? I feel so dead inside.

Anyways, wooooo new chapter is here. Let’s goooooooo!!!

“DiD yOu JuSt HiT a CoP ?” Yeah mf. Call it “injustice” or a “crime”, IDC. Daniel gon beat yo ass GTA style. 😤

It’s ok Daniel, go get him!!!

*h e a v y s i g h*

. . .

PLEASE. EXCUSE ME FOR A SECOND WHILE I… “TAKE CARE OF SOME BUSINESS”.

*stays in the bathroom for about 30 min*

I'M KIDDING... not really.

BRUH EVEN DANIEL IS NAKED? AROUND GUN??? This is dangerous. 😭😭😭

OHHHHHHHHHHH MYYYYYYYYY GAAAAAAAHHHHHDDDD.... SIRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!! THE WET HAIR THOOOOOO. 😩😩🤤🤤🤤🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

I def know what I want for Christmas this year... 👀

Santa would definitely kill me in my sleep...

N S F W M E M E W A R N I N G !!!

(If you don't wanna see the inappropriate meme, just scroll past it.)

God, my 😺 been quivering... What? I bet those of you who read Rendezvous would agree that you want him too. I'M LOOKING AT YOU!! READERS WHO'VE READ THOSE CHAPTERS ACTING LIKE YOU HAVEN'T THOUGHT ABOUT IT, SMH. 👁👁 Don't lie.

Man, this is giving me mad inspiration to write again. Who knew that some steamy shower panels would bring me back to continue writing for that story? How ironic. 😅

YESSSSSS GUN BBG, MAN WHORE, DADDYYYYYYY. 🥰

DAAAAAAAAMMMNNNNN DANIEL, BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE FANCY FIGHTING SPINS!!! Also, "I'm gonna get punished severely when I get back." 🧐 Is Gun gonna make you give him 🧠 or nah? Like what?

BRUHHHHHHHHHH. DANIEL NOOOOOOOOOO!!! 😭😭😭

AWWWW BABY, DON'T BEAT YOURSELF UP ABOUT IT. JUST CONTINUE TO GIVE IT YOUR ALL!!! 🥺🥺

Awwwww shit... Is this where I think this is going...? 😭

Hey Alexa, play "Lose Yourself" by Eminem.

OMG WAIT. HE DOESN'T LOOK THAT DIFFERENT FROM WHEN HE WENT CRAZY MODE IN HIS OTHER BODY!!! :O God, it's like the same demon possessed Daniel or something.

OK DANIELLLLL!!! I SEE YOUUUUUU, KING!!!! 😩😩👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

AYO, IS THAT JAKE'S OLDER BROTHER??? 👀 HOW TF JAMES LEE KNEW ABOUT HIM AND NOT EVEN HIS OWN BROTHER, JAKE KIM KNEW ABOUT HIM UNTIL TOM LEE MENTIONED HIM??? 💀💀💀💀

Geez, I'm starting to feel bad for Jichang. Like, ok Daniel, I get it. Your fight with Jichang started because you're trying to find out more about Jinyoung and all that, but... y'all can't just... talk it out? 😅 "Civilized folks" style? No? Ok.

Oh crap... that's not good. 😬

B R U H. THESE PANELS GAVE ME MAD GOOSEBUMPS. SHIIIIIT. I HOPE DANIEL'S HOMIES ARRIVE!!!! 😖

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I KNEW ITTTTTTT!!! I TOLD Y'ALL WTF. 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I EVEN KNEW IT IN THE LAST REVIEW HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I GOT PSYCHIC POWERS. 🔮

SEE???? I CONCLUDED THIS LAST WEEK WITH MY OWN WORDS, BRUH. CALL ME A... G E N I U S. ✨ (Actually don't. I'm still a dumbass.)

"Thanks. I almost died just now." 💀💀💀💀 Idk why I thought that line from Hudson was funny to me LMFAOOO. Just caught me off guard because I mostly see him being so serious all the time. Also, Jichang... don't underestimate Daniel lol. It'll be your downfall if you do.

I stg. Almost every chapter, Daniel always gets even more attractive. 😍😍

I always see people comment on how Daniel is turning more into Gun due to how he has improved in fighting as the story progresses. HOWEVER, I've never heard Daniel becoming James Lee before and I find that concept very interesting. I'm not sure if PTJ is leading Daniel towards that path of him becoming the new "James Lee", since he is a self-righteous character who seeks truth.

Even though I find this moment to be very cool, I worry that Daniel might create more enemies for himself and I hope he doesn't kill anyone then spiral into long-term guilt like James Lee.

God, I still can't get over the GUN SHOWER PANELS. AHHHHHHHHH!!! HIM... NAKED??? I MEAN, COME ON MAN. HE LITERALLY IS EXPENSIVE ALCOHOL WHO REALLY AGED SO GOOD. SO TASTY. SO DELICIOUS. SO SCRUMPT-DIDDLY-UMPTIOUUUSSSSS!!! CALL ME A CONNOISSEUR, BUT HE CAN BE THE YAMATO TO MY HENNESSY, WITH HIS HIGH PRICED SEXY ASS. 🤤🤤🖤🖤🖤🖤

If any one mentions him in the shower, yk Imma be "showering" down there. 💦

ALSO, WE NEED MORE SHOWER FAN SERVICE PTJ. KEEP 'EM COMING!!!

The correct answer is "Both".

They'd be amazing Calvin Klein models.

Anyways, BYE- 🏃🏽‍♀️

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austinsmutler · 1 year ago

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hii ,I heard requests are currently open and wondering if you could please pretty please write a masterpiece of a sleepover with virgin!elvis and his girl bff who he has a crush on and not too long hes found masturbating then it turns into a steamy ass night I guess? if you’re not comfy writing it, totally alright! love u and ur work, literally breathe and live on it😭🙏🤭♥️

Anon, are you trying to appeal to my ego? It’s working. I’m loving, living, and breathing from this idea! You know me, I love a bad boy EP, so this is my first take on virgin!Elvis. I’d love to write more, and I LOVE me some friends-to-lovers. And don’t get me STARTED on best friend!Elvis, good lord. The pining. The yearning. The increasing desperation all boiling over… have mercy.

Anyway, hope ya like this one!

Young Dreams - Virgin!Elvis x Reader - 3,600 Words

What you’ll like: Virgin!Elvis, Best friend Elvis who is absolutely weak for you, cute smut

Warnings: Sex, Elvis and reader are both inexperienced, but there's no pain because in this house we practice foreplay. Minors DNI.

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Currently writing for Elvis, Austin!Elvis, and Eddie Munson)

“What do you mean no-one’s home this weekend?” Elvis sounded worried. Your fingers played with the phone cord, not sure how to console him.

“I’ll be fine. My folks needed a break, so they’re staying with Grandma on the coast for a few days. It’s only a few hours away- I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm.” Elvis hummed on the other end of the line. “I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“Elvis!”

“Alright, five minutes.”

You laughed until the other end of the line went dead. He can’t be serious, can he?

You’d known Elvis your entire life, ever since he’d moved onto the house at the end of the street. You walked home from school every day together, and now that high school was over and you had a job waitressing on the edge of town, he drove you to and from work every day. He said it wasn’t a problem because he drove in and out of Memphis for his own work, but the little diner was on the complete wrong side of town. Still, it meant you stayed close, even after graduation.

You sat on the living room windowsill. The rest of the house felt intimidating, big without your parents to fill it. Elvis knew you didn’t like being home alone, but what was he going to do about it?

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. You looked at the clock and bit back a smile. Exactly two minutes and thirty seconds since he hung up the phone.

“You’re late.” You said, crossing your arms in the doorframe.

“I had to pack.” Elvis grinned and held up a bag. “Can’t wear the same clothes all weekend, can I?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile and stepped aside to let him in. Old Mrs Cranston was on her front porch, scowling from her rocking chair with a look that said, Your Momma will hear about this.

You fought the urge to stick your tongue out as you closed the door. Your parents had let Elvis stay over before- granted, you were kids then, but nothing had changed between the two of you since. You were just friends. If there were any feelings between the two of you, they were buried deep; the most private treasure, never to be unearthed.

Elvis had already made himself at home, leaning the bag beside the couch and turning on the radio, quickly tuning into Sam Phillips’ station.

“B.B. King.” Elvis whistled.

“Everyday I have the blues.” You named the track without thinking, and Elvis smiled. Music was the first love you shared, and you both sang along to the tune.

Ooh everyday,

Everyday,

I have the blues

When you see me worryin' baby,

Yeah, It's you

I hate to lose

Elvis’ voice was deep and soulful, honed from years of singing along to the choir every Sunday. You took a seat on the couch beside him as the next song played and he didn’t even pause for breath. Big Boy Crudup.

“That’s alright Mama, that’s alright with you…” He stood up to dance, taking on a completely different persona to the one he held when you sang together. His pretty features screwed together as Elvis sang with an attitude. “That’s alright, any way you do…”

You bit your lip as he lost himself in the music. Was he putting on this performance for you, or for himself? Maybe both. You’d listened to music together hundreds of times- at your home, at his, in his truck, in diners and at the movies. Every time he made it feel like an intimate experience, stirring something inside you weren’t sure you should feel.

“You’re good at that, you know.” You said as the song ended, hoping the heat on your cheeks wasn’t noticeable.

“What?” Elvis sat beside you, not even out of breath.

“Singing. Moving.” You smiled. “Remember that talent show when we were thirteen? You got first place.”

“I sang Old Shep.” He chuckled. “And you did that little dance, in the pink dress.”

“I can’t believe you remember that!” You slapped his arm. “Dunno what I was thinking, I’ve never been able to move. My feet get confused.”

“I liked it.” Elvis cleared his throat. “I like seeing you dance.”

If you weren’t blushing before, you were now. “Thanks, but I’ll pass on that.”

Another rock song came on the radio and Elvis stood again, feet already wiggling as he extended a hand. “C’mon, it’s easy.”

You shook your head, hugging yourself. “I’m fine right here.”

“Nah.” Elvis pulled you up with one almighty tug on your arms, pulling you into him. You weren’t so close that someone watching through the window would get the wrong idea, but you could still feel the heat radiating from his body, feel the strength in every motion as he moved. “Just feel the music and let it move you. Don’t think.”

You tried, and nearly tripped over your own feet before he caught you. Both of you broke into laughter at your awkward movements, but by the end of the song something loosened up. Were you a good dancer? Absolutely not. Next to Elvis you were even worse, but that didn’t matter.

Every time he grinned over at you, a little bit of that self-consciousness melted away until you were spinning in time to the music, so hard your poodle skirt lifted to show a flash of the underskirt beneath with every movement. It was the most delicious kind of dancing- free and fun, and certainly not allowed at school dances.

The room seemed to heat up, sweltering by the end of the song. Both your chests heaved with heavy breaths and you fanned yourself as you and Elvis stopped, staring at each other.

His blue eyes were dark, mouth open slightly as he looked at you. You’d seen that look before. Usually it was just a flash, when you laughed in the back of his truck, when he picked you up from work, when you listened to a brand new record together. This wasn’t a flash- this was written all over his face. Hunger.

“I should, uh…” You gulped. “It’s getting late, I’m gonna make dinner. Momma left me some things to reheat in the fridge, that okay?”

Elvis blinked and the look was gone. “Sure.”

He didn’t follow you into the kitchen, and you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or not. There had always been space between you, but it was always full of something. That look…

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you put two dishes of leftovers into the oven and set it to a low heat, along with a kitchen timer for ten minutes.

Sweat started to creep onto your skin, and you tried to shake away all the thoughts of Elvis, the molten look in his eyes, the way his jaw flexed as his eyes trailed down to the bust of your dress…

You needed to cool down, you decided, heading to the bathroom.

Only to open the door and be greeted to the sight of Elvis leaning against the sink, eyes closed and head tilted back, lips murmuring your name as his hand moved frantically over his-

You slammed the door with a yelp.

“Sorry!” You headed back to the kitchen, blood rushing to your face. Had you really just walked in on him touching himself?

He was whispering your name. He was whispering your name, and touching himself.

Elvis stumbled into the hallway, safely tucked into his pants. You tried to keep your eyes on his face and not on the obvious tent in his jeans. His face was just as red as yours must have been as he stuttered,

“M’sorry, you- you weren’t supposed to see that- I wasn’t-”

Your eyes flicked down, then to his face, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I was-” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I won’t- god, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Were you thinking about me?” You asked, ignoring the way your voice wavered.

Elvis froze, before his eyes finally met yours and he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

“You do that often?”

The look on his face told you all you needed to know. He shrank back as you walked up to him, hands shaking at your sides. Suddenly all those looks, all those flashes of hunger were making sense.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It- it won’t happen again, I’m sor-”

Elvis was cut off as your hands wrapped around his head and pulled him down for a searing kiss. He froze again, before a moan rumbled up from deep in his throat and he grabbed at your lower back, pulling you against his hardness.

You devoured each other’s lips until there was no more oxygen in your lungs and you had to break apart or pass out.

“Why did you never say anything?” You breathed against his lips. Elvis licked at your bottom lip, humming another kiss into you before responding.

“I never thought you’d feel the same.”

Shock pulled your jaw to the floor. You weren’t sure whether to slap the man or kiss him again, but you decided on the latter. “I’ve never felt anything for anyone but you.”

Elvis growled and spun you around so you were against the wall, his hands on your waist, his tongue on your neck devouring every inch of exposed skin. The only thing in the world was the heat radiating from his body, dancing with yours. He lifted you up and your legs wrapped around him instinctively, the sudden contact of his hand on your bare thigh pulling a moan from your throat.

When Elvis pulled back to look at you his eyes were wild and raw. He ground against you, holding you in place against the wall as he moved. He rubbed against just the right place and heat shot through your body, releasing a sound you’d never made before, echoing up from your core to the tip of your tongue.

“That good?” Elvis asked and you nodded against him. He hit the same spot again, and again, grinding hard through your clothes until your entire body shook and you were sure you were about to die, or explode, or-

A sharp ringing cut through your moans. Damn timer.

“D-dinner.” You gasped. “Elvis, I- it’s in the oven…”

Elvis reluctantly put you down and you stumbled over to turn off the heat.

When you turned back to look at him, he was flushed, black hair messy from your fingers running through it, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them now that you were out of arm’s reach.

His dark eyes met yours and he stuttered out, “I’ve- I’ve never… Never done anything before. With anybody.”

You froze. “Not even with Dixie?”

He shook his head. “We only went to prom. She wound up dancing with Reggie from her band practice, and he took her home. That’s why I spent most of that night third-wheeling with you.”

You nodded, remembering the night. You’d been surprised when Elvis told you he’d found a date, but then a guy from the football team had asked you out and you’d reluctantly said yes.

Turned out he’d just wanted to get close to one of your friends. By the time Elvis came over, you were a third wheel on your own date. The only redeeming part of prom was driving home with him and listening to Fats Domino.

“I should’ve asked you.” He spoke, voice soft. “I was scared.”

“I would’ve said yes.” You swallowed. “I’m saying yes now.”

Elvis tilted his head. “To what?”

You closed the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his. “Everything. Anything.”

You bit back everything else, all the thoughts suddenly floating to the tip of your tongue: I’ve always wanted you. I want everything you have to give me. I don’t even know how long I’ve wanted you, but you’re under my skin and I want you deeper.

Elvis hummed into your mouth, picking you up again and placing you on the table. Dinner was left forgotten on the countertop as he devoured your lips, then your neck, then lower to nip at your neckline.

“Elvis,” You whimpered, “Wait.”

He stopped immediately to look at you. “Is this alright?”

“I don’t want to… not here.” You bit your lip. “Let’s go to my room.”

Elvis’ eyes widened, then went so dark they were practically black as he understood. He helped you off the table, but you led him up the stairs on shaky legs. The whole thing felt like a dream- a good dream- but the warmth of his hand in yours grounded you to reality.

Elvis was your best friend. He’d been in your room before, but suddenly the space felt smaller; more intimate. You lay back on the pale pink sheets, watching as he drew the curtains, shrouding the room in half-light.

He paused and looked at you, eyes trailing from your face all down the length of your body.

“I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”

“Come kiss me.” You smiled, ignoring the nerves fluttering in your stomach.

Elvis lay beside you, cradling your face in his hands before tracing his way down to the zip at the back of your dress, where he stopped again.

“What is it?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” He smiled, avoiding your eyes with a shy smile.

“Neither do I.” You reached behind yourself to pull the zip of your dress down, tugging at the top to reveal your bra. Elvis reached out with a shaking hand and you closed the gap, sighing as his fingers pulled you in.

“We’ll figure it out together.”

Your confidence brought a smile to Elvis’ face- a crooked, curled-lip smile that melted everything else away.

Your hands shook as you unbuttoned his shirt, peeling the army green away to reveal a body tanned from the summer and toned from years of hard work. You’d seen Elvis shirtless before- summer heat waves meant swimming down at the creek- but this was different. Slower. Your eyes could linger, hands touch every muscle, drawing ragged breaths from the back of his throat.

Elvis breathed your name as you tugged the rest of your dress away, leaving you in just your underwear.

Then you were flush together, tasting every inch of skin. Frantic. Like you’d been waiting all your lives for this moment, and now that it was here it could all be over in a flash. Elvis hissed as your fingernails dug into his back, pulling him closer to you.

“I want you. I need you.” Elvis panted, biting back more words- as if a mountain of confessions was stacked up in his chest, making it hard to breathe. “Baby, tell me what you need me to do.”

You took Elvis’ hand and guided him beneath your underwear, showing him exactly where to touch. You both groaned as his finger pressed on your clit, rubbing softly at first, then hard. You cried out at the sensation, before Elvis pulled away to loop his fingers through the elastic of your panties.

“I need to see you. Please.”

At your nod, he took off your underwear and you made quick work of your bra, leaving you completely bare for him. His cock twitched in his pants at the sight of you, wet, gleaming, ready for him.

“How… how far do you want to go?” His eyes flicked up to yours.

“I need you in any way I can have you.” You replied.

He frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” You smiled, and he was on you again, between your legs, thrusting against you through his pants. You pulled his lips down to meet yours, grinding hard together.

“Wait,” He panted, stopping your hand from undoing the button. “Just… slowly.”

He pulled back to look at you again. “I want to take my time with you. What this is… I want it to be special.”

You moved your hands to stroke the hair back from where it had fallen in his face. “Okay. Slow.”

The heat between your legs begged for more, and Elvis didn’t complain when you wrapped your thighs around him, moving your hips to meet his every thrust. Every brush against your clit had the heat pooling deeper at your core until you were throbbing, body begging for him inside you.

Elvis was listening, learning, and every time you moaned he repeated his movement, smirking against your neck when your sounds started getting louder and louder.

“Do I make you feel good?”

“Yes,” You panted, “Please, Elvis, I need- I need-”

He pulled back at the desperation in your voice, so new and exciting. He didn’t wait for you to finish your sentence before pulling his pants and underwear away in one swift motion, stopping to pick a condom from the wallet in his pants. You looked at him questioningly.

“They were handing them out at school, I never thought I’d use one.” Elvis chuckled, pink rushing to his cheeks. “I mean, one day, but-”

“Hurry up and put it on.” You grinned.

You’d seen a flash of Elvis’ cock just once before, earlier that night, when you’d walked in on him and started this whole thing. But now it was in full view, almost intimidatingly big as he stroked himself with practiced ease before slipping on the condom.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to-”

“Please.” You were begging out loud now. “Don’t make me wait any more.”

Elvis grinned and lay between your legs, letting you adjust your hips. He sank into you slowly, as if he was waiting for a sign, for you to change your mind, or some divine intervention that never came.

You sighed as he bottomed out, rolling your hips after a moment of stillness. Elvis took that as his cue to start moving. Every slow roll of his hips brought you closer to something you’d only ever given yourself.

You’d expected sex to hurt, or at the very least be uncomfortable. That was what you’d been warned about your whole life. Yet, as Elvis moved, the only thing you could think of was the feeling, his cock inside you, and the desperate need for more.

“You okay?” He murmured, kissing your forehead.

“Yes,” you hissed with pleasure as he rolled his hips again. “You feel so good.”

Elvis shifted so his weight was on one arm, allowing the other to roam every curve of your body, from your hip to your breast, brushing over your nipple. You’d never felt safer, or more loved, and the feeling had you clenching around him. Elvis groaned and repeated the action before lowering his head to swirl his tongue around your breast, shuddering as sinful sounds echoed from your lips.

“So soft,” Elvis breathed, squeezing your hip, running a hand down your thigh, starting to move faster. “My beautiful girl.”

“Elvis,” You squeezed your eyes shut as his hand found your clit again, applying pressure exactly as you’d shown him earlier.

He kissed your eyelids. “C’mon baby, show me those pretty eyes.”

You shook your head, tugging him down for a kiss and keeping him there, clinging desperately as his hips sped up, pulling a cry from deep in your throat.

Elvis was everywhere- hot lips on your neck, cool breath in your ear, arms on either side of your head, shielding you from the rest of the world. Everything that wasn’t him, you, now.

The orgasm hit out of nowhere. One moment you were focused on the pleasure of him pounding into you, the next you were crying out. Your nails dug into his back, legs tightening around his pelvis, trying to get him impossibly deeper.

The sensation pulled Elvis over the edge with you. His cock pulsed with his release as you both moaned out in raw pleasure before Elvis collapsed on top of you. You held him there, stroking his hair as you both came back down to earth.

“You’re trembling,” you murmured.

“I’ll be alright.” He placed a kiss to your collarbone. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head. “Elvis, it was perfect.”

A slow smile spread over his face as he lay his head on your chest, humming appreciatively. “So does this mean if I asked you on a date, you’d say yes?”

You snorted. “I think this means if you asked me to marry you, I’d say yes.”

“How’s next week sound?”

Your heart fluttered. “Saturday at two?”

“I’ll have my momma call the church.” Elvis chuckled, rolling and pulling you on top of him. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You bit your lip as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. After years of being so close, it was rare to see something new from Elvis, but this was. The satisfied glaze in his eyes, the easygoing smile, hair mussed in all directions, the faint sweat that covered both your bodies.

He was gorgeous.

“What’re you looking at me like that for?” Elvis smiled wider.

“I’m thinking, I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like this.” You caressed his cheek and he leaned into the touch with a kiss to your wrist. “I like it.”

“You’re the only one who’ll ever see me like this, baby. That’s a promise.”

#austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis imagine #elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #austin!elvis smut #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc

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l-in-the-light · 2 months ago

Note

When Law is in a relationship how long would it take for him to have sex? I see him taking many weeks until going that far. After a decade of holding hands follows the first shy kiss... all are difficult steps for him to take. Maybe he's even a virgin.

I decided to keep answering asks about Law's love life in bundled posts from time to time. So this will be another post containing multiple asks :D I think it will also make it easier to find them this way.

How long would it take him? Depends on his own recklessness, I suppose. He's smart, but he's also very petty, it's not that difficult to provoke him, and he hates being seen as a weakling. So he might actually try to force himself to be ready before he's actually ready to venture into that territory. And then he would deeply regret, think of himself as pathetic fool, because whatever he tried to do just deepened his trauma for him. Yeah, he's that kinda guy. It would be constant up and downs with him on this journey, many of which would be his own fault for not taking things slow enough.

But once he learns his own lesson with it, he would try to be better and take it more seriously, mostly because his partner would worry for him and scold him on many occassions already, once they realized what's going on. Don't expect him though to suddenly stop thinking of getting some petty paybacks, he just wouldn't let it slide.

How long would it take for him to actually feel good and comfortable about sex? There's no easy answer for that anywhere. People deal with traumas differently, they have different issues to deal with (even if two people have a touch-related trauma, their triggers might differ and their experiences as well). For some it will take many months, but I would say realistically speaking: years. And trauma is a bitch so it loves to resurface because of flashbacks, nightmares, and it also tortures you by putting you in an endless cycle of progress-regress. You might think you're having fun and enjoying yourself and then suddenly your brain thinks of a traumatic experience instead and everything starts to feel wrong. One day you might be fine, the next day you can't even look at other people or stand too close to them.

If trauma was a video game then the progress wouldn't be linear, it would be like being stuck in the neverending PT hallway, and unlocked skills can get locked back again and won't let you progress so you need to restart your game from the very beginning, multiple times. And even after you complete the game (as in: you reached the stage in which you're finally more fine than not fine), the game will sometimes open up by itself and take your console/pc hostage, even decades after you cleared it. Traumas don't just go away, they stay with you, you just gain more positive experiences, learn to know yourself better and work through your healing process to avoid them hijacking your life completely. Also please don't think of it as someone being broken forever, but instead as different needs for different folks. Not trying to downplay it right now, but we all have our own issues, no matter if they're trauma-related or not.

And then there's that other bitch called depersonalization and dissociation, which I'm pretty sure would be part of Law's issues, considering the fact he would have to rely on it to take care of his patients, as a doctor. Which means it might be his first instinct in approaching sex as well: try to dissociate himself from his own trauma. The result wouldn't be nice and he would find himself not enjoying sex at all as the result, because he won't really be into it, instead feeling like something is happening to his body and he just observes it from the side. And if he ends up freezing up and too stubborn to actually say that it's happening... the result would be catastrophic.

Okay, enough about trauma, it's getting depressing. Anyway, what he could do instead, is take it slow indeed. Getting used to hand holding would be a great place to start (it might take him a decade though). Maybe kissing as well, because I don't think he has any kiss-related trauma, so it might be easier on him, he won't have to work through the bad memories of it first. Indirect touches would be probably the main activity for a long, long time. Some voyeuristic fun as well. Just lying down next to each other in one bed or falling asleep would be a huge step in intimacy department as well. Things like trauma and healing take a lot of work, effort and time, and every success should be a celebrated victory (Law would hate to celebrate it though, too dramatic for him).

And who knows? Maybe he will never reach the last base. Maybe he's not even interested in it. Any sexual activity is sex anyway, not just penetrative sex alone. And I think what would matter the most to him is understanding that touch is okay (him being touched and him touching the other person), being close is okay, forgiving himself if he clams up or freezes up, accepting it's not because he doesn't trust enough, realizing that forcing himself to open up won't work. Let's say his partner is a positive person and doesn't mind constant breaks or sudden ends, or blueballing, and instead treats it all like a fun adventure and is quick to change to doing something else, completely sex/touch unrelated. I would say this is already achieving intimacy and getting acceptance (all while not making a huge deal out of it!) and I'm sure Law would appreciate it the most and definitely try to return the favour in any way he can.

So I guess my answer isn't exactly the "shy kiss, chastily holding hands for a decade" kind you probably expected to read. But it's okay, I think your idea also fits, anon, as long as Law can stand that level of sugar.

All things considered, yeah, I believe he would be a virgin. But honestly I think that would be the least important problem here, if at all. Let me preach for a moment here (or just ignore the rest). But does that even matter? The stigma around virginity is honestly stupid and there's nothing shameful in having first experiences late or even not at all. Thinking that sex is all about skills is wrong, it's about passion and learning about new partner from scratch: each person likes different things, and just because you're a master at french kissing doesn't mean your next partner would even like french kissing (or likes it done completely differently). Law is adaptable, fast learner and definitely attentive, so whether it's his first time or not doesn't matter; he would be a good partner, because that's what matters the most: that he listens to his partner. Would it be awkward? Sure. But you know what, sex is a funny thing that often is awkward anyway, so it's okay. It's not a performance in a national dance competition.

I mean, we see him crossing his arms, putting hands on his legs when he's sitting, connecting his own fingers together, he also really seems to like the weight of Kikoku leaning on his shoulder. I wouldn't say he's afraid to touch himself, from what we saw so far. But he's also not using every occassion there is to feel his own touch, I guess his comfy clothes and Kikoku serve as a substitute for that.

What about his libido? He's not exactly a teen anymore, I don't think he's that horny anymore. Besides he likes to keep himself busy so he's probably not thinking much about it in general. But let's assume one of the nights he spends talking with Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, and they talk about dirty stuff. I think he wouldn't really take part much in it, maybe he would even lie a bit (because even Law can feel insecure if that topic constantly comes up and he thinks that if he lies they will finally give him some peace), and maybe he would ask himself the question in his mind: shouldn't he be more interested? Maybe he would want to try out some things. It's not like he never wanted to. But then he knows that would mean approaching other people and he is self-aware, it would be an impossible obstacle (he had enough experience with normal people interactions after all). He might simply do stuff on his own, maybe he would find it nice, but I doubt he would find special interest in it, maybe he would even think it's a bit silly.

But on those nights when he feels especially lonely, can't fall asleep, and all the bad thoughts intrude his mind, he might succumb to self-comfort and feel sort of pathetic as the result. Low self-esteem tends to lead to that. It might become his go-to self-comfort, especially when he's a teen, and not just for sexual satisfaction, but simply touching his skin because it's comforting, the same way you would hug a plushie (but he wouldn't go that far, because he has Bepo and he likes to lean on him. Too bad, there's no shame in hugging plushies, Law!). He doesn't seem like a guy with big libido, but I can picture him compensating with self-touching. In healing process, that's definitely a better step than dissociative hypersexuality ;)

He would definitely take care of his own needs though, it would become his natural instinct, and a logical consequence of avoiding contact with others. Maybe after initial shame and self-issues subside a bit as he grows up and gains confidence at least in his fighting skills, he would remember he learned from medical books that touching himself is just a natural and healthy development in life and he would actively try to remind himself of that, till he finally stops judging himself. Trauma might have stolen him intimacy from others, but at least he can reclaim his own intimacy, right?

Well, that trust would need to happen before any sex happens, obviously. But losing control? I think that would be the trigger in itself for Law. Good news is, he doesn't need to "lose control" to receive a bj. There's so many different ways of doing it, at least one of them would feel comfortable for him. And he doesn't even have to go all the way with it and it still counts as bj. Of course if he ever reaches that stage after years of touch-related trauma. Do you think he could do it by himself with his devil fruit powers? Because I think that's in the realm of possibility.

But if he does reach that stage with a partner, finds a way that it feels comfortable for him without feeling triggering (or least likely to trigger him), then I think it has potential to become one of his fav sexual activities, simply because it doesn't have to involve hands (a bit challenging, but what's wrong with creativity?). Kissing as an activity, even if it is technically touch-related, doesn't carry bad memories in itself for him. Tbh though he is probably so touch-starved that it wouldn't take much for him to reach satisfaction, especially since he might be hyper-sensitive to touch as the result and find it difficult to calm down, his emotions overpowering him. Just saying. I bet he would hate that and feel (again) pathetic about himself, but his partner for sure would be accepting and wouldn't mind. Because why anyone would actually mind? It's not about the length, but quality, and quality would be definitely there if they even manage bj to work out in the first place. It's all really just a matter of perspective, trust and caring for each other's needs and limits. That being said, Law's partner would have to be understanding and willing to put his own needs on a shelf. There's a careful balance to work on here (needs met, no one getting ignored, not feeling like trauma is the centre of the relationship etc.) and lots of potential for exploration of a complex relationship.

Why imagine him in a typical copy-paste bj scenario if you can instead tailor it to his needs, fears, limitations and carefully sidestepping his triggers? Sex is supposed to be very a personal experience between two or more people, not just doing the same thing in different positions, rinse and repeat but with different faces and body parts, you know. It's okay to let your imagination roam free!

Glad you enjoy reading my posts! <3 He's definitely not a super lover and imo smut fics with super lovers are the most boring smut ever. Make them awkward and full of emotions, even clumsy or causing some sort of blunder, it's fun to read, I promise! And it just feels more real and interesting this way. It can still get decently steamy too, one doesn't exclude the other!

Haha, sure, I don't really care about anatomy itself, but the common fanfic fantasies of huge dicks are kinda ridiculous to me. Especially in the world of One Piece, Luffy can inflate his own arm so it turns into an arm of a giant, he can for sure do that to his peen if he wanted to. Sizes doesn't matter anyway, all sizes and shapes are a-okay. And it's okay to imagine Luffy and Law as twinks as well, if that's your thing!

That being said, size comparisons never get old in bl fics. That should always happen just for the hilarity and second-hand embarrassment of it :D

Yeah, I agree, he probably had a few sexual experiences... with himself. *runs away*

I believe in "no sex or sexual relationships on Polar Tang" ironclad rule that Trafalgar Law definitely set up. Why? Because this is noncon territory right here, you can't escape the forced power dynamics. Who would actually say "no" to their captain if it can result in being kicked out of their literal home that is Heart Pirates crew and the submarine? Do you really like to imagine Law this way, because I don't. That's why I'm pretty sure he has the rule of "no romance on the crew".

Heart Pirates by themselves though could get it on if they wanted to. I sincerely believe Shachi and Penguin have a casual thing going on that they think no one knows about (everyone knows though). Of course they only like girls though, uhum, and they do some dirty things together just because they feel a bit lonely (that's the official version). I bet one day they asked Law (just for science!) if he could perhaps turn a guy into a female with his devil fruit powers. Law didn't even honour them with an answer though, lol.

Also what cold nights? Apparently submarines are like heaters constantly working on highest setting. It has something to do with lack of proper ventilation when the ship is submerged. You could even see that in filler after Marineford when Bepo was literally sweating buckets and begging for them to get back to surface so he can get some fresh air. Also Law was leaving Wano wearing a freaking tanktop and in his fight against Blackbeard while they tried to escape in the submarine he was sweating buckets. Heart Pirates come from North Blue, I think they would actually prefer the cool nights over the heat they have to regularly deal with. Even Law's favourite season seems to be "spring on a winter island". Those guys like it cold :D

#one piece #trafalgar law #trauma #Trafalgar Law's love life #many asks and answers here are nsfw!#love life on Polar Tang #kinda selfcare positive post :D #multiple asks answered at once #ask

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daitranscripts · 5 months ago

Text

Doom Upon All the World Conversations

Iron Bull

Doom Upon All the World Masterpost

Iron Bull is sitting at the head of one of the tables with a tankard in hand.

Iron Bull (helped fight Corypheus): That was the Tevinter-est Vint in the history of all Vints. The original mold from which subsequent Vints were cast. And I got to help kick the shit out of him. Good times, boss. Good times.

Iron Bull (not brought to final battle): So… demons, dragons, giant asshole Vint on a big magic rock? You don’t let it get dull, boss. Good stuff.

Dialogue options:

General (helped fight Corypheus): I’m glad you were there. [1]

General (not brought to final battle): Thank you for the help. [2]

General: That was good? Really? [3]

General: It’s not done yet. [4]

1 - General: I’m glad you were there. PC: There’s no one I would’ve rather had at my side, Bull. Iron Bull: Same here. I got to kill another dragon and fight a Vint. Those poor bastards on the ground had demons. [5]

2 - General: Thank you for the help. PC: You helped make it possible, Bull. Iron Bull: That’s what they pay me for. [5]

3 - General: That was good? Really? PC: How was that good in any way, Bull? Iron Bull: We all walked away. Chantry folk are picking up what’s left of Corypheus with a dustpan and a pastry scraper. [5]

4 - General: It’s not done yet. PC: Corypheus left us a big mess to clean up. Iron Bull: Right. Probably not as many giant explosions in the sky from here on out, though. [5]

5 - Choice dependent dialogue:

Became Tal-Vashoth [6]

Remained Ben-Hassrath [7]

6 - Became Tal-Vashoth Iron Bull: It’s weird. I joined the Inquisition under orders from the Ben-Hassrath and stayed because Corypheus was an asshole. Now that it’s done, I’ve got no orders. For the first time in my life, I can go wherever I want.

Dialogue options:

General: You can’t beat staying here. [8]

General: Where do you want to go? [9]

General: I wish you luck. [10]

Flirt (romanced): Or go nowhere. [11]

8 - General: You can’t beat staying here. PC: You know I’ll find you the best fights. Iron Bull: I know, I know. Anyway, the only place I’m going tonight is back for more drinks. To us being alive and the bad guys not! (Drinks.) Anaan! [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 9 - General: Where do you want to go? PC: Got anywhere in mind? Iron Bull: If it’s all the same with you, I’m pretty good right here. Anyway, the only place I’m going tonight is back for more drinks. To us being alive and the bad guys not! (Drinks.) Anaan! [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 10 - General: I wish you luck. PC: Good luck. Wherever you end up, they’ll be lucky to have you. Iron Bull: I think I’m good right here, for now. The best fights always seem to find you. If I left, I’d just get jealous hearing about all the great shit I was missing. [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 11 - Flirt: Or go nowhere. PC: Or you could stay. Iron Bull: Or I could stay. Anyway, the only place I’m going tonight is back for more drinks. To us being alive and the bad guys not! (Drinks.) Anaan! [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 12 - Scene ends.

7 - Remained Ben-Hassrath Iron Bull (saved the dreadnought): The Ben-Hassrath are pleased. Their agents are checking for remnants of the cult in Tevinter. Iron Bull (Personal quest not started): The Ben-Hassrath are still worried about the Inquisition’s power. Happy Corypheus is dead, though.

Iron Bull: I expect they’ll call me back for a more detailed report. Not many experts on demons and old magisters under the Qun.

Dialogue options

General: They’re lucky to have you. [13]

General: Is that what you want? [14]

General: We owe you. [15]

General (romanced): You’re leaving? [16]

13 - General: They’re lucky to have you. PC: I hope the Ben-Hassrath appreciate the good work you’ve done here. Iron Bull: It’s not about appreciation under the Qun. It’s about doing the job. Belonging. And we’ve got some time. [17] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 14 - General: Is that what you want? PC: You’re happy to go back to living under the Qun? Iron Bull: I think… yeah. Iron Bull was fun, but it’s time to be Qunari again. I think I’ll be ready when they call me in. [17] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 15 - General: We owe you. PC: The Inquisition owes you a great deal. Iron Bull: Hey, you paid me a great deal. And we’re not done yet. [17] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 16 - General: You’re leaving? PC: Do you have to leave? Iron Bull: Not for a while yet, Kadan. [17]

17 - Scene continues.

Iron Bull: Corypheus was a busy guy. I figure we’ve still got some cleanup work to do. But not tonight. Tonight, we get shitfaced one last time. To us being alive and the bad guys not! (Drinks.) Anaan!

Scene ends.

#dragon age inquisition #dai transcripts #dragon age #dragon age transcripts #dragon age dialogue #dai #long post #dai dialogue #doom upon all the world #duatw #the iron bull #iron bull

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101ocs · 8 months ago

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Leslie Transcript

Note: I just wanted to do this for funsies giggle :3!

[Leslie’s ability, “SIC,” allows him to call upon his dog, Bullet, to attack any victim close enough to him. Bullet cannot kill a victim himself, but can incapacitate them if their health is low enough.]

Feed Grandpa

- I’ll read you a story after this is all done here, grandpa.

- Here you go, Grandpa! A lil’ snack!

- Johnny didn’t mean to, Grandpa…we’ll fix it.

- I gotta present for youuu! Say ‘aaah…’

- I wish you were up n movin’ again. Things would be so much easier.

Victim Found

- Hey, that’s my hidin’ spot!

- What’re you doin’ in there, babe?

- You thought I wouldn’t check here? Really?

- Sorry, babe. Cat’s outta the bag.

- Peekaboo!

- You shy or somethin’? C’mon out.

Victim Hit

- I’m tryna be gentle!

- Awh, yer blood’s so pretty! Lemme see a lil’ more, ‘kay?

- Gotcha good there!

- Why’re you squirmin’?! That just makes things worse!

- I’ll make it quick, babe! Just stop movin’!

Blood Trail

- I’ma have’ta clean this up, y’know…

- What did I say? I told you I’d be nicer.

- Man, I really don’t want clean up duty again.

- Phtt…someone’s havin’ a bad day, huh?

- Yeah, that’s it. Leave Bullet somethin’ to rat you out.

Match Start

- Bullet’s gonna have a field day with this one!

- I’ve never really done a chase like this before…gotta stay on my toes.

- I might be young, but I ain’t dumb. I’ll find ‘em.

See Victim Escape

- We’re really gonna get it this time!

- Shit! This can’t be happenin’ right now!

- I’ll send Bullet after ‘em.

- Goddamnit. I gotta tell Ma.

Idle

- I gotta prove that I ain’t a kid no more!

- That girl Johnny liked…she was really pretty. I mean, really pretty. He didn’t have to do that…

- This may be my first rodeo, but that don’t mean nothin’! I’ll still get it done!

- Bullet should be waking up soon. (sigh) He’s such a good boy…

- Y’know I…I don’t really like killin’. But it is what it is. Gotta do what’s best for us.

Sees Enemy

- I promise I’ll be way nicer than the others. Just c’mere.

- It’s okay…c’mere, sweetheart.

- I’m sorry it has to be this way. Really, I am.

- It’ll be over soon, hun. C’mon over here.

- All of this is pointless. It’ll hurt worse if you squirm.

Ability Denied

- Bullet can’t hear me from here…

- Nope. No scent for Bullet to track.

- Bullet won’t be able to find ‘em.

- Let’s wait a lil’ longer…

Use Ability

- Sic ‘em, Bullet!

- Get ‘em, boy!

- Find ‘em, Bullet!

- [whistle]

Execution

- Sweet dreams…

- Don’t keep the angels waitin’.

- There you go. You’ll find her up there…I promise.

- Night, night.

- Rest easy, babe.

Cook Seen

- Don’t be hollerin’ at Bubba, okay? You’re makin’ him nervous.

- Let me know if you need help, ‘kay?

- You seen anyone yet? Huh? Huh?

- I’m sure Johnny’s sorry for all this mess, alright? Can you just drop it please?

- Hey, hey, hey, what you gonna cook up for dinner tonight? (laughter)

Hitchhiker Seen

- O-Oh, my bad. I’m in the way…

- Did Grandpa really teach you how to make those traps? You’re so lucky!

- Hey, you should really stop mutterin’ ‘bout my folks, y’know…

- I think you should set a few more traps, man. They’re runnin’ around everywhere!

- I know you’re more experienced than me but…I don’t think messin’ around will do much for our cause.

Johnny Seen

- There you are, Johnny! Me and Bullet have been lookin’ all over for you!

- We should be more gentle with them this time…y’know?

- Johnny…is this about that girl? …Never mind that, we’ll get ‘em!

- I should start workin’ out like you do. My arms could use a lil’ more muscle! (laughter)

- Mama’s worried about you, y’know. Once we catch ‘em, I think you should try to work things out…o-or not.

Sissy Seen

- I’ll get outta yer way…

- Make sure you don’t overdo it with that poison, okay? Ma gets pissed off whenever you do.

- What’re you always singin’ anyway? I don’t get it.

- I’m worried one of these days yer gonna step on somethin’ and hurt yerself. You should really put some shoes on or somethin’!

- Yer flower garden’s doing real well, Sissy! Must be that fertilizer we make. (giggle)

- Y’know, I’m surprised to see you! Thought you were gone for good last time. I’m glad you came back…

Nancy Seen

- Hey, mama! Having any luck over here?

- We’ll definitely catch these kids with you ‘round, mama! You had tons of practice with me n Johnny way back when, huh? (laughter)

- Mama, you think I should call Bullet out soon? He’ll handle this like a champ!

- When I find ‘em, I’ll bring ‘em to you, mama! I promise.

- Need any help, ma?

Bubba Seen

- Woah! You work that saw real good, man! Real good!

- Make sure you’re havin’ fun, alright? We can hang out later, if you want!

- Sorry, man. I’ll get outta your way!

- Are they botherin’ you again? (sigh) Don’t listen to ‘em! You’re doing awesome! I wish I could be as cool as you!

- You’re doing great! Keep going, man!

Cook

- You oughta get yer brother and mother in line, boy!

- Stop yer whinin’ and get to work!

- C’mon, kid. We don’t have all day! Let’s find ‘em!

- If it weren’t for yer brother, we wouldn’t be in this predicament! I keep tellin’ him, but he just don’t listen…

- You better not go off and get us into trouble like this too!

Hitchhiker

- Y-You don’t know nothing ‘bout nothing! Yer just a k-kid!

- I-It’s funny how you n Johnny look alike…(snicker)

- Better hu-hurry or your mama m-m-might give you a scar next!

- You wanna hear a s-secret? C’mere, I’ll tell you a s-secret!

- You still scared of k-killin’? Huh? (laughter) I knew it! Yer shakin’!

Johnny

- C’mon, lil’ boy. Pick up yer feet.

- It’s like that game we used to play as kids! (laughter) Hope you learned a thing or two from that.

- Don’t give up on me now! Keep searchin’!

- Thatta boy, Les. Keep it movin’.

- You see, Les? This is what happens when you’re too easy on them kids! Gotta make sure you finish what you started!

Sissy

- (laughter) Well, aren’t you a sweet thing?

- You just haven’t found the light yet, sugar. That’s all!

- Oh, there you are! I planted some new flowers I want you to see once we’re done!

- Don’t start getting into trouble like your brother does, now. He’s enough as is.

- (laughter) Aww, sugar…you can hardly hold your shears without shakin’.

Nancy

- Breathe, sweetheart. You’re doing just fine.

- Remember what I taught you, Leslie. You’ll be alright.

- Hold those shears up, sweetie. You won’t hit a thing with it swingin’ like that.

- C’mon, Leslie! We can’t let them get away! Get focused!

- There’s a first for everything, Leslie. Don’t get cold feet now.

#[💛]#les 🌾#tcm oc #texas chainsaw massacre oc

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markosbabymama · 1 year ago

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Midnight Rain| J.CxGN!Reader.

submit: anonymous.

“would you be open to writing a Johnny cade x gn!reader fic where maybe it's storming really badly so reader let's Johnny stay the night at their house?? maybe they're just friends and end up confessing to one another or something :00 (bonus points if Johnny ends up wearing readers' hoodie bc his jacket got wet 🤭)”

warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of abuse.

it was a stormy night in tulsa, but i enjoyed nights like this, i love the rain, and the cold. as i’m laying down in my room reading a book i hear a knock on my door, and i knew exactly who it was.

i walk up to my door, shivering a tiny bit since the windows were open and the cold came into the house, i answered the door seeing my best friend, and the boy i’ve been in love with since i was 12, johnny cade.

johnnys like a lost puppy, that’s how the gang and i described him. he’s been kicked around his whole life, though i never knew why. johnny was the sweetest boy i think i’ve ever met, an real gentleman.

“hey john, what’s the matter?” i ask seeing a hurt look on his face, it pains me to see him so sad. “hey y/n, it’s nothin’ just the old man bein’ a pain again is all.” he says with his hands in the pockets of his soaked jean jacket, kicking the ground.

i look at him with sadness in my eyes, he didn’t have to say much for me to know what happend back at home. his old man always hassled him for no apparent reason.

“well, don’t just stand there johnny, please come inside.” he looks at me with a slight hint of guilt, “are you sure? i don’t really wanna bother y’all, maybe i shouldn’t of came here.”

johnny was always one to feel bad for everyone, he would be bleeding out and still try and find a way to blame it on himself.

“johnny don’t be silly, you know you’re always welcome inside my home, besides it’s just me anyways, folks are out of town for a few days.”

he looks hesitant, but he walks through the door, taking off his shoes and jacket as soon as the door shuts. “i’m sorry i just popped up over here so out of nowhere, i just didn’t know who else to go to.”

i look at him sympathetically, I really don’t understand how Johnny thinks he could be such a bother, his parents get into his head too much.

“you ain’t bothering me non honey, stay right here and i’ll get you some new clothes, yeah?” he smiles softly at me. “thanks y/n.” i smile back. “no problem johnny cakes.”

I walked back into my room, grabbing a hoodie and sweatpants for the cold boy. I don’t worry about size because Johnny is very small for his age, even though he’s 16 he looks 12. Not certainly a bad thing though, it’ll come in handy when he’s older.

I walked back into my living room seeing Johnny sitting on the couch, shivering a bit “ hey, I got the clothes for you.” I say, handing him the clothes. “thanks y/n, i appreciate it” he gets up and walks to the bathroom down the hall to change.

once he gets out of the bathroom, I ask him if he’s hungry and if he wants me to whip him up something very quickly, I really don’t mind, I never minded when it came to Johnny.

after some laughing and joking and longing looks he speaks up. “thanks again y/n, i really do appreciate you letting me borrow your clothes and letting me stay here.” I look up at him from the kitchen table and just smile at him “no need to thank me Johnny, It really doesn’t bother me none. besides we all know i have the best clothes and food.” i smile while admiring johnny.

he laughs a little bit, i love his smile, he doesn’t do it very often but when he does he can make a whole city light up. once he finishes eating and i finish cleaning up, we both head to bed.

it was never weird sleeping in the same bed as him, i’ve known him since i was 12, and even though i have feelings for him, it never bothered us any.

he tucks himself in the bed, laying his head on my chest while i run my hands through his hair, it’s quite, all i can hear is his breathing, and the raindrops on the windows.

he hums softly, his face in my neck, i can feel him hesitating to say something.

“y’know, i really appreciate you doing all this for me y/n, i know i say it a lot but i can’t tell you how much i really mean it” i smile softly while listing to the boy, i always loved how sweet he was. “no problem john, i enjoy taking care of you, it makes me happy knowing you’re safe and fed. especially if it’s from me.” i giggle a little and he smiles.

he looks at me with a look i cannot describe, like love and care and maybe confusion.

he released a shaky breath then looks up at me. “i love you y/n.” my heart beats faster as he says that, but i know he just means it as a friend, so i don’t think much.

“i love you more johnny cake.” i say, still ruining my hands though his hair. “no, I don’t mean it in a friendly way, I really do love you y/n. you’re always there for me. You’re always taking care of me, you’re always making sure I’m okay, always making sure that I’m safe. we could be in a room with 200 people and you’ll still find a way to get to me just to ask if I’m okay and if I ate something. I’ve never received love like the way I receive it with you. I’ve loved you since the day you saw me at the lot and brought me an apple and a water. It wasn’t much but it showed that you cared. I’ve loved you ever since you found me after the soc’s jumped me, and you made sure to patch me up once we got back to the Curtis’s. i love you, y/n with all my heart. you mean so much to me.”

my eyes are wide, and my jaw was on the ground. i can’t believe what he just said, was this a dream? if it was i never wanna wake up.

“johnny, I love you too with my whole heart. I’ve loved you since we were 12 years old. I’ve loved you since we played football together when we were 13 and dallas tackled me and you were the first person to rush to me and make sure i was okay, i’ve loved you since we worked on that stupid project in school together for 2 weeks and still got a C on it, i love you johnny cade, and i always will.”

His smile was so wide and bright, the smile i’ve loved since i was 12, the smile that makes my whole world stop. the smile that on a bad day could flip it around and make it a great one.

he leans in to me slowly, his eyes fluttering shut. i close my eyes, screaming on the inside with pure joy, i can’t believe this really is happening. his lips crash onto mine, they’re chapped but soft at the same time, he tasted like cigarettes and mint gum, he was slow and passionate, didn’t rush anything. didn’t try to over step or make me feel uncomfortable. it was the best kiss i’ve ever experienced. his hands cup my cheeks, they’re calloused and ruff. we pull away from the kiss, gasping for air.

“that was amazing.” he said smiling. there it is again. God, i’ll never get sick of that smile. ever. “was it? i think we should do it again just incase.” i say smirking a bit. “i think we should.” johnny says smiling and pulling me down on his chest.

guys this took my so long😭😭 hope y’all enjoyed it i love johnny sm🩷🩷🥹🥹

#the outsiders #johnny cade one shot #johnny cade imagine #johnny cade the outsiders #johnny cade #i love this boy

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thehealingplum · 11 months ago

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Hey, everyone who is cheering for me and giving me reassurance, thanks. I feel like I don't thank folks enough for sticking with me through all of... this.

Its. Been years since my meltdown that ruined a lot for me. But the pain is still there. It lingers in my head space a lot. And I often worry that these down moments are things that are a reason why I'd end up pushing people to a breaking point.

So yeah. Thanks. I really do mean it.

But please don't feel like you have to stick with me out of some obligation. I don't want anyone feeling like they have to do anything for me. Stay if you want but please put your own well being first.

Anyway. Sending love back out to all of you.

#thinking aloud

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yourlocalartsonist · 1 year ago

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ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Seven

A/N: Please kill me my soul has left my body writing this god forsaken LONG ASS CHAPTER but hey it was very worth it imo. Uh sorry for the month long wait. I think the AO3 writer curse found me and my poor beta reader since shit kept happening to both of us delaying this chapter even more. But hey! It's finally out, so I hope y'all enjoy while I go lay down bye- Credit to: @sweaterrat for being my beloved beta reader! Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One

Disclaimer: Chapter involves obsessive behavior, obessive language, demeaning language, injuries, manipulation, degrading language, bullying, shaming over having emotions, panic attacks, spiraling thoughts, gross creepy motherfuckers, recorded without consent, slight physical harassment, implied verbal harassment, getting restrained, uncomfy thoughts, self-degrading language, light s*icidal thoughts, violence, and curse words. This one's a heavy chapter folks so if you're sensitive to that stuff, scroll past and stay safe!

Alright, Salena. You got this. Just remember: if you’re quick and quiet, he won’t notice you. ‘Tis the rules of ninja stealth mode, baby!

Finally back at school but am I gonna face my problems? Nope! I’ve decided to take Splinter’s advice on just doing things when I’m ready. Even though sometimes I feel like I’ll never be ready. Every time I even thought about talking to Jaiden or Zane, I’d find myself getting strangely mad. I know I’ll screw things up if I talk with a temper.

But hey! That’s not my focus right now, anyway. I’ve been searching for a good opportunity to finally meet and talk to Draxum today! It turns out the world really is fucking miniature since he works at April’s old high school - aka my current one - as that scary mean lunch aid everyone fears to death. Who knew, right? I’m hoping I can make a good impression on him today! And maybe possibly get my very own weapon but that’s totally not my first priority at all…

I already planned to skip study hall to try and sneak into the kitchen. I know that lunch is next period but Draxum gets pretty busy when he actually has to work so I'd rather not bother him during those moments. Besides, it’s May! I would’ve spent my study hall sitting there doing jackshit, anyway, so I doubt the teachers care if I’ll be missing. There’s just one hurdle to my otherwise flawless plan. The reason I’m perched up on top of the fluorescent light trying not to cry from how dirty it is up here instead of in the kitchen by now: Zane’s been tailing me all damn morning.

He and I share a study hall so not seeing me there probably prompted him to run out looking for me. Guess I can’t blame him too much, I haven’t really talked to him or Jaiden so I know he’s just worried. But my god, the dude’s more annoying than an actual hall monitor right now. I’ve lost track of how long this little cat and mouse game’s gone on.

I watched in agony waiting for Zane to pass by. He stopped, looked both ways, and turned the corner, successfully convinced I wasn’t right above him. Man, I knew parkour would come in useful someplace but never have I ever thought that place would be in school.

I victoriously hopped off the pretty bright light and bolted towards the cafeteria, checking behind me to make sure Zane didn’t come back this way. I can’t wait to finally meet Drax and get my very own weapon! I hope it’s something cool! I mean, I don’t even know how it’s supposed to be picked but holy hell I am so excited and everything’s playing out so perfectly right now I genuinely can’t believe-

“Oof!”

Of course, I accidentally ran into someone. So much for ninjocity. The poor guy fell to his knees, and rubbed his head, messing up his fluffy black hair.

“Omigosh are you okay!? I am so so so sorry!” I stepped closer to him, reaching out my hand. “Here, let me help you up.”

“Argh… yeah, thank y-“

He stopped mid-sentence, wide teal eyes staring right at me. His expression looked strange, it wasn’t happy but it wasn’t sad either. Or actually, it was a little? He’s not saying anything or moving, it seems like he’s about to simultaneously laugh and cry.

But maybe I’m reading too deep into it, he could just be in shock or something.

“Um… I hope I didn’t bump into you too hard. Are you gonna take my hand…?”

“O-oh, right, sorry! I uh… I spaced out.”

“Don’t worry, totally get that!” I laughed, pulling him to his feet. “Ya know, I don’t recognize you. Are you new here?”

“Yeah, I actually just joined today, tenth grade! My name is Ca-”

“There you are!” A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind.

“Z-Zane!?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Salena!” His arm wrapped around my shoulder, possessively holding me close while shooting daggers at the stranger. It doesn’t take Einstein to figure out what message he’s trying to send. “Hey there, new guy. Nice to see you again. I didn’t know you and Salena already met.”

“We just bumped into each other, that was it.” He turned towards me, his look switching back from hostile to friendly “So, it’s Salena?”

I wanted to respond but got cut off as always “Oh, getting bold now, are we? What, just because you’re new you think you’re some kind of hotshot?”

“What? No, I’m literally just talking.”

“I know, that’s what I’m saying. Don’t talk to her at all.”

“Uh, why? You’ve been rude to me the entire time in class and now you’re trying to monitor who I talk to? Honestly, what is your problem?”

“My problem is cute guys like you who think they can do whatever they want with whoever they want just because they look good! I’m warning you now if you try to play any mind games on her, you’ll be hating every fucking second of being alive.”

Fucksake, what is he doing? “Zane, come on, you’re being extra.”

“Salena, don’t.”

“But-”

“Just don’t! You’re too nice to everyone and never know what’s good for you!” As he said that, I glanced over and saw the new guy looking at me with expecting eyes. Zane turned to him shortly after. “And you, stay away from her, got it? I’ll say this once and only once: she’s not interested.”

“Dude, why are you getting so worked up? I’m trying to talk to Salena, not you. I want to befriend them. It’s their choice if they don’t want that and I’ll respect it. But you don’t get to decide that!”

“Yeah, okay, look at you trying to white knight the situation. Look, Salena might be naive but I’m not!” Ah, there it is again! If the word naive were a person, I’d be on death row by now! “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, you little freak, and it’s not gonna work, ya hear me?”

“Zane, stop!” He was starting to get way too physically close to him and way too metaphorically close to breaking my patience. “He’s new to the school, we just met! Why are you acting like this? You’re being mean for no reason!”

“No reason? You haven’t said anything to me the entire day, Jaiden texts saying you’ve avoided them too, and now I just happened to find you here giggling with the new transfer and you’re telling me there’s nothing funny going on?”

I groaned. As much as I felt tempted to clock him in the face, I didn’t feel like dealing with the aftermath of having to somehow make it up to him. For now, gotta focus on making sure the new guy doesn’t pop a blood vessel on his very first day. Defeated, I reached out and grabbed Zane’s shoulders, keeping him facing towards me.

“Of course, there’s nothing going on! Hey, I’m gonna talk to other people but you and Jaiden are still gonna be my best friends.” My hand signaled the boy behind him to run while he could. “I’m not gonna just replace you guys for no good reason!”

“Then why were you avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding, I just… I had something important to do, alright?” At least that’s only half a lie.

“Oh really? Important with some guy who just transferred here?”

FOR THE LOVE OF- “Ugh, no, I told you I ran into him by accident! Like, literally ran into him. The important task is something else.” I peeked behind him, noticing the boy left. “And speaking of that, I gotta dash! It’s time sensitive so… yeah!”

“Huh? W-wait!”

You bet your ass I skedaddled away from him as soon as I could. I finally entered the cafeteria, resuming my mission from before. It’s quite empty, a stark difference from what I’m used to. You could probably hear a pin drop in here. I decided it got too eerie, so I took a page out of Mikey’s book and proceeded to swing the kitchen doors open in the loudest, most obnoxious way I could, getting greeted with a scream followed by a very annoyed groan.

“Oh, it’s one of you annoying brats. I thought I had to be worried for a second.” He didn’t roll his eyes but he might as well have, honestly.

“Sorry! I just wanted to ask-” I paused, looking past his body and catching a glimpse of something he was trying to hide. “What’s that behind your back?”

“Nothing that concerns you. And shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Eh, it’s study hall so skipping’s not a huge deal.”

He sighed “Do what you want, kid, but why insist on pestering me? Can’t you see I’m busy enough?”

“Oh! Right! My bad.” I lightly bumped into the door frame as I walked inside “Um, so like… I was just wondering, do you happen to know a Baron Draxum around here?”

The purple vines swiftly tangled around my waist, snatching me from the ground and suspending me in the air while a couple others pointed sharp at my head.

“How do you know that name!? Who sent you, tiny assassin?”

“Yo yo yo, chill, chill! I’m a friend! O-of the turtles! Ya know, your sons or something?”

He scoffed “Likely story! Those idiots get themselves a new ‘friend’ every week. Tell me, assassin, if you’re on such friendly terms with them then why would you refer to me as Baron Draxum? They don’t call me that anymore!”

“Dude, I dunno! I wanted to somehow indicate that I knew about the whole Yōkai ordeal and I thought if I called you Barry you’d think I was just another kid, ya know?”

“And why exactly wouldn’t you just say that?”

“...Good point. You know what, I did not think this through. And actually, thinking about it now, it honestly makes way more sense you’re a Yōkai! I mean, the occasional random vines in the flooring, the weird forestry state of the kitchen, yada yada. But I guess I just thought you were some sort of extreme nature lover or something, ya get me?”

SHING!

“WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!” I looked at my arms and gasped “Wait! I can prove it! My arm-wrap-glove-thingies!”

“What about them?”

“They’re Genius Tech, a gift from Donnie!” I took one of them off and threw it, landing on his eyes with a splat. “See? Donnie wouldn’t give me these if we weren’t friends! O-or at least close acquaintances on friendly terms! So ha!”

He inspected the clothing, grunting when he saw the all too familiar logo “...Fine. I suppose he wouldn’t let a thief get away with all their limbs intact. But why are you even wearing these in school?”

“…They go with my aesthetic, okay?”

“That was rhetorical, I didn’t actually care.” He finally set me down, not looking any less bit irritated, though. “Now, what do you want? I don’t have all day for your childsplay.”

“A weapon!”

“What?”

“I want a weapon!” I beamed at him, instinctively flapping my hands. “Like the ones the guys and April have! April told me they all got their first weapons from you since you’ve got a whole stash of them! So, I was wondering if I could get one, too? Please?”

“Of course you are.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “And for the record they didn’t get their weapons, they stole them! But anyway, I can’t help you even if I actually wanted to. My weapons are down in the Hidden City, I cannot simply wish them into existence.”

Darn. “Well… is there some way to portal down there maybe? Mikey and Leo can open portals so maybe you can too?...”

“As a matter of fact, I can.”

“Great! Then lets-”

“Not doing that, though.”

“What!?” At this point, I feel like he’s just dicking with me for the sake of it. “Oh come on, you’re supposed to be some sort of great mystic warrior alchemist guy! Surely you can do something to help me?”

“Listen, kid. Barry Draxum has far too much work to do to take some random student on a lab tour, especially just to get them a weapon to fit in with their friends. Go away and stop bothering me.”

He walked past me to start prepping for lunch next period, his towering height only further emphasizing his authority. Still, I’m not backing down. Not this time.

“I’m not trying to fit in. I know you’re busy but I’m not asking this for shits and giggles. I want a weapon to keep me safe! My life has been one chaotic run-in after another with mutants and giant cats and every time has had at least one near-death experience guaranteed! Look! I’ve even got the scars to prove it!”

I held up my left arm, the bandage now visible with my arm wrap off. “Something bad almost happened last time and I got everyone worried. I just wanna make sure I don’t have to constantly need protection and burden them again. I wanna be useful, you know?”

He glanced at my arm and sighed. He may act like he didn’t give a rat’s ass but looking more carefully, it’s clear a part of him might’ve softened a little.

“I’m not opening a portal and I mean that, I promised Mikey and O’Neil I wouldn’t use my mystic powers on the surface. With that being said, however…”

Draxum walked back to where I initially found him crouching when I came here, beckoning me to join him. I gasped when he opened the cupboard, revealing two giant blades hidden in them.

“Wow…”

“You’re lucky you came at the perfect time.” He took them out, gripping the seafoam green handles. “Usually, a warrior such as I would be entrusted with the safekeeping of numerous weaponry. But after gaining a criminal record, the Council decided I wouldn’t be allowed any more than I currently have.”

“Then… how’d you get this one?”

He scoffed, “Obviously, I stole it. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to obtain them even with the Council on my side. These don’t belong to them.” He proudly presented the weapons, the silver blades shining in the light. “They’re a privately owned contraption, made by a very famous pristine Family in the Hidden City. No one outside them owns these sickles except now, of course, me.”

“Hold up, these giant things are sickles? Aren’t those, like, usually way tinier and kinda useless compared to other ninja weapons?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well, this beggar can and will.” I pointed at myself, skeptical he was still trying to sell me short. “I’ve done my fair share of research on weaponry, sickles are lame! Their blades can barely do shit and they’re way too close range to keep the wielder safe.”

“Stop sassing me, child, I’ve done my own fair share of more accurate research. These are mystic sickles, they will be different from your pathetic human tools.”

He began polishing them while continuing his rambles. “If you’re concerned about their sharpness, then you’ll be satisfied to know their blades can change by the user’s will. One minute, they’re strong enough to slice diamond and the next minute, they can’t even shatter glass. And all my sources confirmed they can turn the wielder invisible for varying periods of time, depending on their strength. It’s incredibly difficult coming across any information on them, but apparently, they were made to manipulate reality.”

“Apparently? I won’t lie, this all sounds legitimately cool and stuff but like, have you ever tested them out? Why’s all this just based on research when you have the weapon itself?”

“They don’t work from my touch.” Bruh.

“Come again?”

“These sickles are the only weapons that don’t seem to activate when I use them. So, my offer to you is if you can get these to work, I’ll allow you to own them permanently as long as you send me any new information you gain on them.”

“Oh, joy! You think that I - the ordinary human person - can get these things to work when you - the mystic magic Yōkai guy - cant?” I sighed, scratching my head before ultimately reaching out. “You know what, fine. Even if I get scammed, it’s worth a shot.”

He plopped them into my hands as I fell forward, grunting from the weight. Jeez, I can barely even pick these up. “God, for a scientist you sure are pretty bad at educated guesses- Woah!”

I flinched and stepped back when the sickles suddenly sharted floating in the air. Draxum copied my actions, both of us staring intently at them. The pink details on the handle lit up, spiraling around the grips and spreading to the blades, shining it all in a soft aura of the same hue. A part of me felt drawn to the light, as if it were calling me. I realize how incredibly stupid that sounds but in the moment, that didn’t really matter.

I reached out and held the sickles again, the aura spreading to me before fading away. They felt much lighter now, I can actually hold them with ease! The silver blades got dipped in deep, dark pink. If a rose could bleed, it’d be that color.

“Fascinating…” He adjusted his glasses. “Seems like my guess wasn’t so stupid after all, was it?” He smirked at me, genuinely emoting this time.

“I… I guess not. Aight, I’m sold! Although, I feel like the sickles chose me more than I chose them.” So, like a person getting claimed by a stray cat, I had no choice but to keep them.

“Wonderful, these are now yours, congratulations.” He held me by the shoulders and pushed me out the kitchen. “And remember, update me on any and every new bit of information you learn while using this. It was nice to meet you, blah blah blah, now don’t bother me during work ever again.”

He closed the door and almost instantly the school bell rang. I jumped, frantically shoving the sickles into my backpack right as people started coming in through the doors for lunch. I had no idea this much time passed. I should probably get out of here before-

“Salena?”

I’ve been jinxing myself a lot today, haven’t I? Jaiden’s standing right in front of me now. Might as well leap off a cliff and call it quits, to be honest.

“H-Hey…”

“Quite the busy gal today, aren’t you.” They’re speaking slowly, this isn’t a good sign.

“Oh, um, yeah, kinda. I just had to take care of something.”

“Cool, I guess.”

We both stood there awkwardly. My chest feels so heavy. Jaiden’s barely looking at me but I swear if they did I’d downright die from their glare. What do I even do? How do I face this?

Just… run away. You’re… you’re good at that. So run away.

“…I need to go.”

“What? Okay, that’s it. What is up with you? You didn’t come to school Monday or yesterday and you’ve avoided me all of today. Now when I finally catch up to you, you have to go?”

“I just got into a small accident, is all. I had to stay home.” Not like you tried to reach out, anyway.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

They groaned at me. I don’t usually bicker back but the way Jaiden was treating this, as if they don’t know what they did, it’s just… it’s just getting to me. I don’t want to be like this but it’s getting to me.

“Salena, snap out of it, will you? You’ve been acting so pissy, lately! I literally didn’t even do anything!”

My body chose to scoff “Yeah, not with me, that’s for sure.”

They squinted at me, only half understanding what I meant. “Are you… mad we didn’t hang out this weekend?” They facepalmed, framing me as the idiot for being upset over that. “Dude, you can’t be serious, I said something came up! It’s not like I totally ghosted you or anything!”

It’s not like you totally ghosted me?

“...Jaiden, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Why not?”

Shut up.

“I don’t feel okay talking about this.”

“Oh really? Like how you never feel okay confronting anything? What, do you just expect me to drop this because her highness isn’t feeling okay?”

My face feels boiling hot, I can’t help clenching my fists. I’m trying to breathe. Everything will be okay if I just breathe.

“A-are you crying? Ugh, seriously? It’s like all you ever know is how to run away or cry! We’re not thirteen anymore, just grow up!”

Stop.

“It was annoying when you were such an emotional crybaby back then but now it’s just getting ridiculous!”

STOP.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t tell me you’re upset that I’m right. That you’d rather selfishly push this to the side instead of just dealing with it like a normal person!”

Why are you being so mean?

“Salena, say something already! Stop with the pity party, the world doesn’t revolve around you-“

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

They did.

I didn’t mean to say that.

I don’t know for how long, but somehow I tuned out the noisy cafeteria, my ears bugged with a faint buzz. My eyes were fixed on them, and theirs on me. In all our five years of friendship, I’ve never not once yelled at Jaiden before.

“…Who even are you?…”

Those words sting. They sting because they’re right. Who am I?

“Moni! Reeves!” Draxum’s voice snapped me out of my daze. “Stop standing in the middle of my cafeteria and causing traffic!”

I guess that was our cue to sit down. And continue. Even though I don’t want to.

“Where do you think you’re headed, Moni?” For whatever reason he was still yelling at me from behind the food rack.

“T-to go find a seat?”

“I told you to head to the nurse! If that cut you got while helping me in the kitchen gets infected thanks to your horrid luck, I’ll be held responsible. So go there right now!”

Huh?…

“Y-yeah, sorry, I’m going.” I rushed out before Jaiden could say anything more. I’m a little shocked he was listening, even more so that he actually helped me.

Whatever, I’m just grateful for the excuse to get away.

I gently touched my heated forehead.

Plus, maybe going to the nurse isn’t such a bad idea, anyway.

***

The shiny streets reflected my steps as I took in the familiar damp scent. The gray fog left over after rain always gave the city a different vibe.

I got sent home early by the nurse. Apparently, another panic attack arose after talking with Jaiden. The nurse took pity on me when she realized and got me the rest of the day off, giving me a pass and everything. Told me to go home and take it easy. Come back tomorrow when I’m feeling better. I laughed at the memory. Oh, if only they knew going home meant the exact opposite.

So instead, I’m out here. Wandering in New York in its post-rainy weather to clear my mind. Maybe that’s why I keep having these thoughts. I don’t usually dwell on the whole shitty situation of my life. But right now, in the colorless skies and the somber silence, I can’t help but feel pathetic.

A pebble found its way into my boots. Annoying. I didn’t feel like dealing with it, though, so I just kept walking.

I walked more and more and more, trying to forget being present. Trying to forget this stupid mess I somehow got myself into. Wordlessly wandering, hoping the city would just swallow me whole so I wouldn’t be seen. I feel sick and ashamed but so enraged at the same time. How could they still continue to play dumb? After seeing me like that they pretended to know absolutely nothing. I’m not misreading anything, am I? What if I got the situation wrong? I can’t tell if I’d be happy Jaiden didn’t actually ditch me, or depressed I’d have yelled at them for nothing. They’re right but they’re wrong but they’re right. Or, at least I think they’re right? Maybe that’s wrong. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. But that could mean so many things. What am I even talking about? What’s-

“Hello? Anyone there?” A pale hand waved in front of my eyes. I glanced up at its owner. “Welcome back to Earth, sweetheart.”

A tall blonde boy stood in front of me, a couple other boys whom I can only presume were his friends looked down at me with him.

“H-h-hi?...” My brain, still adjusting back to reality, only spoke in stammers “C-can I help you?”

One of his friends chuckled “We were wondering the same thing. You were just walking blindly into a dead end!”

For the first time since god knows when, I scanned my surroundings realizing I have no clue where the fuck I am. Somehow, I wandered into an alley, not too deep but still pretty disorienting. There’s a wall behind them, I guess that was the dead end they’re talking about. Two of them snickered while looking at a phone.

“You seriously recorded her?”

“Course I did. I knew girls were ditzy but this? She ran into a building, like, three times! And apologized to it!” Okay, I admit, not my best moment but still, feels a little weird for them to record it. I wonder how long they were filming before deciding to actually check in on me.

“Guys, stop. You’ll make her run away.” The blonde boy spoke again. “Don’t worry kitten, we’re not here to hurt you. You just looked lost. If you want some help finding your way, we’d be glad to assist!”

…I know he’s not saying anything inherently wrong, but the way he speaks makes my skin crawl. There’s something about his tone. It’s sweeter than it should be. That specific type of sweetness no human being shows without having ulterior motives.

His gaze grew more intense. “Do I… know you?” I don’t like how close his face is to mine.

A part of me got suspicious, too. We might indeed know each other. Or at least, I might know him. Blonde hair, green eyes, creepy as shit. But it’d be ridiculous if he’s actually who I think he is. I mean, not every blonde white guy’s gonna be related to-

“I do know you! You’re that cutie my brother keeps talking about!”

Yep, it’s him. Because my luck couldn’t get any worse, I ran into Cole Evans, Zane’s freakshow older brother.

No wonder my fight or flight feels triggered.

Play it cool. “I think you have me mistaken for someone else. And thank you, but I’m not lost.”

Right as I turned around to leave, my shoulders pricked up. He put his grimy hands on them, firmly grasping onto them as if any of this is fucking okay. “Oh, don’t be like that! What’d he say your name was… Salena, right? You think I’m as boring as Zane or something?” He spoke too close to my ear. My legs are trembling, aching to run. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. “Why’re you being such a killjoy, hm? You know I’m not that much older than you, right?”

I need to go.

I spun around and elbowed his side as hard as I could, forcing him to stumble back. I desperately wanted to sprint but his friends blocked my path, grabbing my wrists when I tried reaching for the blades hidden in my backpack. They were laughing and poking fun at Cole and he himself didn’t seem all too phased either, straightening up as the pain died down.

“Let me go!”

“Seems like she’s more tiger than kitten aye, Cole?”

“Good thing I like the feisty ones.”

I thrashed around kicking and stomping, trying to hit anything I could or at least break free but nothing was working. They’re dodging everything and the grip on my wrists only gets tighter. All the while they’re mocking me like I’m a dog or something. Is this just a sick joke to all of them?

“Aww, look at her! Is that really the best you can do to fight back?”

I need to keep trying, I need to find a way out. But they have me trapped. I can barely move around. I can’t dodge, I can’t run. I don’t know how to fight, I’m useless if I can’t run. What do I do? What do I do?

BAM!

I didn’t realize how unstable my balance was. Not until I found myself fallen on the ground finally able to freely move my wrists. The guy restraining me earlier was now groaning on the ground too, holding the freshly bruised side of his face in agony.

“You wanna fight? Then pick on someone my size!”

“Raph?...” I watched from the ground, mouth hanging open.

Without hesitation, Raph charged at them. They were cocky at first but the atmosphere quickly shifted after seeing how powerful the “person” in the gray hoodie was. I don’t even blame them, I’ve never seen him punch anyone so hard before. He’d slam them into everything: the walls, the ground, I might’ve even heard bones crack. He’s taking all of them on.

Meanwhile, I’m here uselessly watching.

I should help. I want to help. I know he’s strong but there’s a good number of them and they’re not exactly weaponless. But what do I do? What could I do? I have my sickles but what if I make things worse? What if things get too messy, what if things go too far? If the police get involved-

Wait, an opening!

They’re so distracted dealing with Raph, no one’s blocking the way out!

Run! JUST RUN!

“Come on!” I grabbed Raph’s hand the first opportunity I could and fled from the scene, him confused but not stopping us.

We ran for what felt like forever. Just chose a direction and bolted, not much logic behind it. If anything, it felt like pure instinct. Traffic lights and stop signs didn’t seem to matter to me and frankly, I’m surprised we didn’t get run over. We only stopped when my lungs gave out and forced me to gasp for air.

Raph seemed fine, a little concerned, but fine. “You okay? Was passing by and heard ya scream. When I ran in, I found ‘em surrounding you.”

“Y-yeah, I’m just… I just, I-I don’t know. Sorry, can I just have a minute?” I continued heaving in the air, can’t tell if it was from running so much or another god forsaken panic attack.

Regardless, Raph stayed crouching by me as I held my throbbing head, trying to not cry. He's quiet but attentive, noticeably making an effort to avoid physical contact for now. Strangely enough, his presence alone is making me feel better.

I steadied my breathing “Th-thanks for jumping in, Raph. Um… sorry I couldn’t, ya know, handle it myself.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Not your fault those creeps were messing with you.”

“Still…” I wish I did more.

And just like that, my breathing progress backtracked “Sorry I… A-a lot happened today. Too much too soon and I have no clue how to just… Gosh, I don’t even know, I-I guess get it out?”

“Uhh, well uh…” His eyes lit up “Ooh! Actually, I’ve got a good way to deal with that kinda stuff, if you don’t mind comin’ over to the lair for a bit!”

“Oh, um, really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Course not! Plus, Raph could use the company, anyway.”

Well, I’d definitely be safer in the lair than out here.

I gave a weak smile “Alrighty then. I’m down!”

He reached for my hand, only taking it when he was sure it was okay. We walked along the city streets for a while. His large hand practically engulfed mine, I felt like a little kid next to their big brother. Is it weird to say I feel a little safer that way?

We reached the lair, entering through a manhole and strolling till we reached an abandoned subway track. The familiar scent shot back to my brain. It’s strong but not overwhelming.

“Here we are! Home sweet home!”

It’s surprisingly empty today. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Probably doing their own thing. Hopefully safe. Raph, uh, doesn’t like thinkin’ about it too much.”

“Then Salena shall not question! So um… what exactly are we gonna do?-”

“Catch!”

I stumbled back in shock, peering down as whatever he threw now landed in my arms. They’re… boxing gloves?

“The fuck?”

“We’re gonna deal with your thoughts the best way I know: by punching ‘em in the face!”

I blinked as I realized he’s being completely and entirely serious. I hesitated at first, but then I really gave it a good thought. I’ve read before that working out can boost your mood. A little harmless violence is a strangely good way to let out anger, especially. Plus, if I make a habit of this, I might be able to boost my strength along with it! Then I wouldn’t have to solely depend on running all the time!

“Worth a shot!” I finally shrugged in acceptance and put on the boxing gloves, staring at the bag in front of me. “Do I just go ahead and punch it?”

“Yep, basically! But when you do, try thinking about whatever’s bugging ya and pretend it’s the bag. It’ll help you smash harder and make ya feel better!”

“Okie dokers, here I go.”

Smack!

I gave it a light punch to test it out, making sure to catch the bag as it swung back so it didn’t punch me instead. It hurts a little since I’m not used to the impact on my fist but it’s nothing that makes me scream and writhe in pain.

“Good job for your first hit, Salena! Now try and put some more force into it!”

I repeated my actions but with a stronger punch like he instructed. I kept doing it until I got a decent enough rhythm I could keep up with. So now it’s time for the second and arguably harder part: letting my thoughts out. I don’t really wanna think about the… situation in the street. So I guess what’s left is thinking about Jaiden instead. Ugh.

Smack!

Where do I even begin with this? I mean, I can’t even properly figure out how I’m feeling, let alone word it. All I know is that there’s a shit ton of guilt associated with it. I never meant to yell at Jaiden, it just sorta happened.

Smack!

But it’s not like it came out of nowhere, either! They’re the one who ditched me! Jaiden and I planned ahead of time to meet up and hang out, I made it explicitly clear I missed them and wanted to be with them. They said they were busy and didn’t even give me a reason for it! And then they hang out with Zane the same day? They basically chose him over me!

Smack!

But I shouldn’t have yelled either. I made things so much worse now, it’ll be too awkward to ever bring it up. They’ll just tell me off for getting mad and completely ignore everything else. God this is so frustrating!

SMACK!

Why did I have to be so stupid? Why did they have to be so mean? The things they said and the things I did! It’s all spinning around in a giant whirlpool of bad and dangerous thoughts and I hate it! I can’t stop thinking about it and I hate it! Have I been a bad friend? Is Zane that much better than me? Am I just not interesting? What did I do for them to just ditch me!

SMACK!

We’re best friends, why are we acting like this!? I let my temper get the best of me! I yelled at them, I fucking yelled at them! I’m mad and upset but fuck I yelled at them! I’ve never yelled at Jaiden before. We’re best friends. How could I do that!?

SMACK!!

I’m awful! I’m terrible! I feel like an asshole! I am an asshole! I should know better! I do know better! How could I fuck up so badly!? How could I do this!? How!? How!? HOW!? I DESERVE TO FUCKING-

“Salena!”

SMACK!!!

Raph’s arm went in between me and the bag, taking the hit in my place. I know he’s strong but judging from how loud the crash was, I doubt it didn’t at least sting.

“That was close. Everything okay? Why’d you stop punching? If the bag hit you it could’ve done some serious damage!”

“I didn’t realize I did…” I ran my hand through my hair, sighing heavily. “Ugh, fuck! Sorry, Raph. I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to do this. It’s just making everything feel more clouded than before.”

He stared at the bag for a moment. “Alright, well…” Then he let it rest, and faced me with his fists up. “We’ll spar instead.”

I tilted my head to the side, communicating my confusion.

“The whole point of this thing is to let your thoughts out, maybe if you’re just thinkin’ about it, it’s still keeping it in. If you’re cool with it, we could try talking instead of only venting while we fight and it might clear things up!” He chuckled lightly. “And don’t worry, Raph goes easy on first-timers.”

Honestly, he might actually have a point with that. “I’m open to trying!”

We’re starting off with some light jabs at each other. I felt a little out of place fighting Raph, partly cause I don’t like hitting him and partly cause I’m terrified to let him hit me. I’ve been dodging and blocking decently enough, though. HIs punches feel way lighter than normal so he wasn’t kidding about going easier.

“So, tell me. What’s bothern’ ya so much today?”

“It’s kinda my friend. I think I did something since they hadn’t talked to me much for days. And then one day when we were supposed to finally hang out, they told me something came up.” I punched a little harder, getting blocked by his forearm. “And then I found out that ‘something’ was them hanging out with our other friend who posted it on Instagram! They totally ditched me!”

He jabbed at my right, barely missing when I dodged. “Did you try talking to them? Could be a misunderstanding.”

“That’s the thing, every time I wanted to I just kept getting so mad thinking about it. And then when it actually happened, I wasn’t prepared and I screamed. They were being kinda mean but still, I never yelled at Jaiden before.”

The pace picked up some more. Raph’s hits were getting quicker and harder to dodge, I’ve had to shield myself more often. He did leave some opportunities, though. I’m gonna assume it’s on purpose to let me have a few hits but either way, it’s training so I’m gonna take full advantage of that.

“How long have you two been friends?”

“Five years, we’ve known each other since middle school. That’s why it’s killing me inside. You should’ve seen their face Raph, they looked so… shocked! Shocked that I had it in me, that I’m a shitty enough person to yell at my friend!”

“I mean, I get it but, you’re still human. No normal person’s gonna go through life never yelling at their friends.” He swung at me. “And if you’ve been friends so long, why don’t y’all just talk it out? Dontcha think apologizing would help?”

I ducked, narrowly missing it. “I mean, yeah it would, but that’s not gonna stop it from being an issue. Sometimes I’ve had to fight myself really hard to stay calm around Jaiden but I always managed to do it. Now that I blew up, though, it’ll just keep happening.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Anger issues.” I attempted a jab. “I’ve had anger issues growing up.”

“Ah. Yeah, Raph knows a thing or two about that.”

“It sucks because like, I try not to let it show. And I think I’ve done a good job. But everything’s been so overwhelming lately that I’ve been snapping left and right! I keep getting mad and forgetting to control my temper and doing stupid things as a result! It’s so annoying!”

The anger’s helping my punches get faster. I’m barely even focusing on it but I can tell I wasn’t moving this quick earlier. Somehow, I actually managed to land a hit on his plastron, though he didn’t even flinch. Still, it’s definitely helping me build up some power.

Maybe I shouldn’t have celebrated too quickly, though. He countered with a jab at my shoulder, forcing me to pause and regain my stance. He let me take my time, bouncing with his fists up like before and waiting for me to resume the fight. I did so shortly after catching my breath.

“Ya know, I’ve dealt with anger issues growing up, too. It’s why I got into working out so much, it’s a good outlet.” He started blocking more, letting me get a few more hits in to help me practice.

“Yeah, but your brothers love you a lot, you couldn’t have hurt them too bad. If you did, wouldn’t they just hate you?”

He laughed. “You’d be surprised! I was a real problem-child growing up, even worse than Donnie. I mean, I still loved my bros back then and acted the way I do now but… I still had a huge temper and wasn’t as good keeping it in check. Actually speaking of Dee, I did hurt him pretty badly once. Physically.”

My arms were getting tired. “What’d you do? If you’re okay sharing.”

“Well, uh, turns out anger issues and pre-teen hormones don’t mix well. It’s a little fuzzy but I know it was over something dumb. I was having a bad day so I started punching my room’s walls. It made a lotta noise and Donnie came in telling me I was bein’ too loud and it hurt his ears. I shoulda just stopped like he asked me to but I didn’t and started yelling at him and taking my anger out on him. Don didn’t back down, either, so we ended up arguing. I don’t even know how things got so heated but it got physical and I accidentally hit his shell.”

“What!?” I stopped for a moment, trying to take it in. I know Donnie’s a softshell and judging from how hard Raph’s been hitting even now when he’s being light, I could put two and two together. “Sorry that happened, Raphie. For both of you.”

“It’s fine, he wasn’t too badly hurt thankfully.” He threw a punch to signal me to keep going. “But he built his battleshell a few days later. I don’t think it was out of anger towards me, I don’t even think Dee remembers what happened other than us getting into a fight. But it still stung when I figured out why he made it.”

“And why was that?”

“...I think he built it so I wouldn’t have to worry about hurting him again. He knew I felt guilty and I wouldn’t stop apologizin’ to him for days. I think the battleshell was his way to keep himself safe but for my sake more than his.”

Raph began using a more offensive style, letting me play defense and rest my body a little. Perfect timing since I don’t think I would’ve been able to focus on giving strong hits. I’m just trying to process what happened. I knew Raph could get mad easily and shouts a bit. But I’ve never seen him really act violent towards his family, quite the opposite actually. It never even crossed my head that maybe he had to learn this the hard way.

“We’re both past it now and I’ve def gotten better with the whole temper thing. Plus that battleshell’s like, his favorite thing he ever made now. So all’s well that ends well, I guess!”

I slid back, shielding another hit. “Does it… still hurt you to think about it?”

He paused and chuckled. “You kiddin’? Hurts like hell.” Then went right back to fighting.

“So… how’d you do it? You seem so different compared to how you described yourself as a kid. Just… seems like a lot of change.”

“It was! I found better ways to deal with things. I worked out, listened to older songs, that kinda stuff. Still not the best I could be but it’s a work in progress!”

“I already do those things, though. I mean, not working out but like, I’ve got ways to cope with my anger. It just still happened.”

“Then there’s only one thing I can tell ya. It’s the hardest thing but also the most important.”

I freaked out when he swiped his leg at mine, knocking me off balance. I raised my head to look at him crouched by me again.

“Never give up on yourself. If you do that, it’s over.” He picked me up by my shoulders, me weighing absolutely nothing to him, and set me back on my feet. “But ‘till you do that, there’ll always be hope.”

He smiled, the snaggletooth gleaming. “Think we’ve done enough today. You look tired.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Truth be told, I didn’t entirely realize how worn out my body was ‘till he pointed it out. “Thanks for, well, helping me out with this stuff. You’re… a good friend, Raph.”

“Anytime.” He pointed at his shell. “Want a ride home?”

I grinned and nodded, my nerves washing away from me. I know from experience this relief is only temporary, but maybe it’s okay to enjoy it anyway.

We had a nice and pleasant walk back to my place, me on his shell as we talked about more lighter topics. He shared a lot about his music taste especially, R&B is his favorite and helps him chill out often. I’ve never given it a try myself but I’m always happy to have an excuse to. I got dropped off at my building’s entrance, strolling in as I thought about the last thing I asked him before bidding him goodbye.

“Raph… do you think I’m a bad person?”

“Not even close. Like I said before, you’re just human.”

I hate to admit it, but there’s a lump in my throat from thinking about it. Weird thing is, I don’t mind it. The elevator’s quiet hum only made this peace more apparent.

Ding!

And there goes my phone ruining that peace once again. I saw the notification, Zane texted. I guess his brother told him about our little “introduction”, if you can even call it that.

Ding!

He also told him about Raph. And he’s mad at me now, asking who the guy in the gray hoodie was. He’s more focused on Raph than on his brother’s bullshit. Lovely.

…You know what, this can wait for another day. One thing at a time, Salena. One thing at a time.

Next Chapter

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