#forgive the mistakes it's 4 am lol

[the-kr8tor]

IWNSIWSOAKSOAA I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR REACTION

HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA you know i gotta bust out the reader discretion when it gets good in a fucked up way 😉 just doing my duty to balance all the sweet and fluffy in this blog 🫡

Thank you! I got the imagery of the factory from all the industrial pics during the 1800s! It fits Hicks eggo lol

Nothing's gonna stop Hobie!!!

Karl!! Robbie stayed at the saloon bc no one was looking after it while everyone's gone

Exactly! Someone could've easily got their leg blown off (Hobie's just extremely lucky but desperate enough to use it)

Hicks can't shoot for shit! Very ironic for a man who runs a bullet factory!

Literally a cockroach!

Lol r would propose right there and then! She's not letting go of a man like hobie!

It's hobie, bucky and his torture device against the world

HAHAHAHHAHAHA literally what every reader was thinking during that part

Yeah fuck u hicks!

Gators symbolizes greed and being double faced/fake here in my country so hicks literally was eaten by his own greed!

Nope! Cross just made r wear the wedding ring she left when she escaped

Yep! Most of that was spent travelling tho

Bro tried but thankfully r knows how to swim

HAHAHAHHA made me giggle fr

Wisniwsdjs exactly!!! This is exactly how she felt like back then it's so awful on both ends

Yeeess she ate them all up just like how mrs burnell was eating them deviled eggs

If you look up incel in the dictionary you will see Cross' face on it lol

Hehehhehehe 🤭 fr i was looking forward to see how'd you react on this specific part

NOOOO DON'T SUE ME I GOT NO MONEY FOR A LAWYER

HAHHAHAHHA I'll count down the days when u can finally speak

I GOTCHU GOOD!!! Fun fact: in my outline it says "fakeout with the graves lol"

You while reading that part:

They all have their own little family!!!

Roberto the doctor/guitarist must've been the Greatest doctor out there also the bullet pass through in between her ribcage and not hitting anything vital that's how she survived! The bleeding out was the main problem for r but they got her stable enough yay!

Billie and mona are here too!! They're the babies in every multiverse with Hobie and r 🥺

Your comment made me tear up fr thank you so much truly for sending in your thoughts every chapter and just full on supporting me while i was writing this you absolutely helped me by talking abt it with me and I'm grateful to have such a sweet, thoughtful and smart reader like you!! I held off from replying to this bc i just wanted to keep reading all your kind words but i cannot describe how much this made all those countless hours painstakingly writing opin perfect all worth it ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

you described the whole story so perfectly in just a few words! You've done your hw HAHHAHAHA thank you again! And I'm looking forward for more of your thoughts on opin!!! Love u too!! ❤️

Dead Man's Hand

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.5k

Tags: Use of Y/N, sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Cowboy AU, wild west AU, CW food mention, CW vomit mention, CW blood and gore, CW guns, TW violence, TW abuse, TW suicidal thoughts, TW death.

A/N: if there are any warnings that I've missed please tell me so I could add it in.

This chapter tackles dark themes, read at your own discretion.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 10 >>>

The pungent, acrid and hot air of metal and gunpowder brings Hobie back in time as he slams open the steel doors to the factory with a harsh kick. Machinery whirs, and twists, sharp steel dancing to the beat of the flames as it turns molten iron into instruments of death.

Hobie roams his fury-filled eyes around the factory, green flames flicker in those eyes, finding grime coated faces of strangers staring back at him and his posse. One glances their dark eyes towards the upper level of the factory where a balcony is placed. Where Hicks would look down with contempt, and would scream at the overworked employees to hurry production. Hobie knows it all too well, the factory mirrors the one back home. In the middle of the balcony sits an office with frosted windows that bear Hicks’ name. But the man is nowhere to be found within the crowd.

“If you're not Hicks, get the fuck out.” He doesn't need to yell the command, for everyone turns to run outside towards the back exit where half of Miguel's gang lies in wait; and Hicks' lackeys lay dead on the soft muddy ground.

One running and hiding away amidst the crowd catches his eye with the same face as one of the men who buried him all those years ago. “‘cept you.” With one swift raise of his six shooter, smoke billowing out, a hole now sits on the man's torso where his heart should be. “Hicks, better get down ‘ere or my people will blow this place to the ground.” Hobie steps over the bloody body, crimson coating the sole of his boots. “Rainin’ bullets don't mix well with a room full of explosives.”

There's no movement nor a whisper in the entire factory save for the fading sounds of the machines slowly shutting off. He catches a glimpse of a shadow behind a closed frosty door in the upper level of the factory. It was quick and sudden, if not for Riri's gentle nudge towards the movement, he'd think he was seeing you again for a brief cruel moment.

“Ri, Karl, come with me.” Hobie emerges behind the blackened air from the large machines. Three sets of boots thumping silently as they bound upstairs.

He reaches the door, back on the solid wall and away from the glass. Riri stays on his right, shotgun cocked and ready while Karl checks his bag of TNT on Hobie's left. As he moves to open the door, a bullet pierces the glass, shattering it into sharp tiny pieces. A shard nicks Hobie's cheek, but he ignores the throbbing pain as blood trickles out.

“You're still alive, you little shit?!” Hicks yells, shooting blindly at the door.

The trio stays still and waits for the opening. A click echoes in the quiet, and clouds of gunpowder float through the air. Hobie and the others take their opportunity. Karl lights a stick of dynamite, chucking it inside the room and then ducking down to cover his ears. Hobie doesn't waste time, leaving the safety of the cover, he twists to face the door, shooting at the flying TNT— effectively blowing it near Hicks while Hobie holds onto his hat so that it doesn't get blown away.

The explosion causes Hobie to stagger backwards, if not for Riri pulling him back to the side, he would've fallen off the railings. Sulfur fills the air as they cough, puffs of grey smoke clouds the entire office space.

His ears ring, a sharp high pitched sound that he's awfully familiar with. He gives Riri a thankful nod, which she replies with a smug smile and a raise of her eyebrow. Hobie takes the lead, flicking his eyes towards Karl, who gives him a thumbs up, and with his hair all messed up from the explosion. Satisfied that his group is alright, he enters the fray. Smoke giving way to him and his raised gun. Shards of glass crunch at his feet, singed papers lay burned on the floorboards as embers flicker out in the air.

As the smoke clears out and the hot air of the south enters through the broken windows— Hobie finds no one inside the room.

“Fuck!” As he yells into the emptiness, a horse neighs outside, hooves running frantically away while bullets fly and ricochet. He immediately looks down, finding Hicks half burnt and riding away. “Like a fuckin’ roach.” Without thinking ahead, Hobie vaults from the window, softening his fall with a roll. Landing, knees aching but intact, he whistles for Bucky.

“Hobie, what the fuck?!” Riri and Karl simultaneously scream out, but Hobie's already running while Bucky follows right behind him.

Once Buckeye trots next to him, Hobie grabs hold of the saddle's horn to swiftly lift himself up on the saddle with a quick pull. No one's going to stop him, Miguel already considers Hicks dead just from the look of determination behind those green eyes.

Hobie leaves everyone in the dust. Bucky neighs wildly, huffing and puffing as he tries to catch up. “Hicks!” Said man turns on his saddle a few ways ahead, arm raising to aim and to shoot his gun. Bullets whizz past, hot air passing by as Hicks misses every single bullet.

Hicks’ scalding flesh makes him keel over in pain as his blood drenches his horse. “Shit!” He kicks roughly, his horse whines before speeding off.

Bucky gains speed, catching up to Hicks whilst he reloads. But of course, his hired guns finally catch wind. A handful of them appear from the side, trudging from the muddy swamp with alligators lurking underneath, and riding towards the bumpy road where the main chase is happening.

The rival posse hollars and hoots, sneering smiles and guns aimed at Hobie. Riri and the others are still catching up to him, so he's left alone to defend himself and Bucky. With fury fuelling him, he has everything to lose so he'll shoot through all of them like a hot knife through butter.

While the mercenaries leave the line of trees, Hobie enters the thicket, swerving to the side, using the large and sturdy trees for cover. The ground may be soft and muddy, but Hobie and his loyal horse have been in dozens of situations like this. The swamp might've slowed them down but it doesn't stop them as splintered wood flicks and flies while his enemies continue to shoot at his swift horse.

A bullet comes too close to his head, piercing a hole in the brim of his hat. He clicks his tongue, annoyed at the damage. Patting Bucky, he takes his foot off one of the stirrups to bring it to the safer side where no bullets could come at him. With two legs on one side, hand holding on to the saddle horn and reins, Hobie rides sideways, hiding his body while peeking over and shooting with calculated aim as Bucky runs back towards the path. One by one, the mercenaries fall off their horses with his bullets pierced through their bodies. The road is coated with their blood, leaving trails of rubies for his posse to follow.

Miguel trots closer, shooting at what remains of Hicks' men. The gang hoots at the sight, adrenaline rushing through their veins, and blood heating up from the violence.

While Riri and Karl have their eyes on Hobie, who now sits upright on Bucky, they kick on their horses and off they go, riding side by side with Him. Hicks panics from the sheer volume of horses running after him, with his last bullets, he aims at Bucky's leg.

Hobie beats him to the punch, quickly thrashing his whip made out of jagged metal wires, tearing the skin off of Hicks' arm apart when Hobie pulls hard at it. Hicks screams in sheer agony, tumbling and falling off his horse into the moist ground, soil entering his burns and mouth. When the dust settles, he looks up to only see the end of Hobie's gun.

It's silent in the marsh as the sun shines on his gun; frogs hum in the distance, gators trill when they smell meat while Hicks' labored breathing quickens. Hobie has his gun digging into Hicks’ skull, skin red and angry from his burns. Half of his face has melted into a mess of meat and bones, left eye barely opening from his melted eyelid. A pungent smell permeates from his oozing wounds, clothes torn and burned to ash, and ankle twisted at an angle. Hicks’ hands are buried halfway into the ground as he sinks down to the muddy plains.

Everyone thinks he should be dead by now, even Hicks himself, but death won't grant him the sweet release just yet��� not until Hobie takes what he is owed.

“My, don't you look pretty, Hicks.” Hobie doesn't smile nor smirk at the sight of the man who buried him alive five years ago. A man who now kneels before him, disfigured beyond recognition, feeding the soil under him with his own suffering.

“F-fuck y-y-you.” Hicks' lips tremble from the unimaginable pain. “I w-will not b-beg.” He manages to curl half of his melted lips into one final sneer. “Not l-like how you did.”

“I don't want you to beg, Hicks.” Hobie digs the metal harshly, skin ripping and tearing like paper from under the gun. “I need to know where she is. You're dyin' anyway, your last words might as well be somethin' useful.”

Hobie's cold words makes the man scoff that quickly turns into a painful cough. “No. Didn't your old man tell you that revenge is a f-fool's game?”

“This isn't revenge, this is retribution.” Hobie tilts his head, looking behind Hicks where a pack of gators trill and show themselves under the green swamp. “If you tell me, I won't let the gators eat you alive.”

“Wha–?” Hicks' slowly turns his trembling head, skin painfully tugging with every movement. One of the gators snaps its maw, warning with its sharp teeth. The entire gang hears this grown man whimper from fear.

“They look mighty hungry, Hicks. Better hurry up.”

“You'd t-take me away from them?”

“No, I'd put you out of your misery before they get to you. Something you didn't give me back then.”

Hobie can practically see the rusty cogs in Hicks' head turning. “...alright, just don't let them eat m-me.” His burns flares up as he doubles in pain.

Hobie makes the man raise his head with the barrel pushing his chin up. “Sure.”

“She's at the big white house near Blackwater, just west of the r-road. You can't miss it.”

“You lyin’” Hobie doubts the information when he gave it to him too fast. Jaw tightening at the thought of you being so close yet so far from his reach.

“No, I'm not.” Hicks hears the unmistakable sound of the reptile crawling closer. “It's the truth.”

Riri flicks her eyes towards Hobie, leaning close, whispering lowly at his ear. “I know the place.” Hobie doesn't miss the hard look in her eyes. “He's not local, that place is well hidden, he wouldn't know that only the locals know about it.” She glares at the sniveling man, “It's ways away from the road he's talking about. Fucking far from it. Easily missed if you're not familiar with the place.”

Hicks figures out what she's whispering when Hobie's anger flares, hand tightening around his gun. “I'm telling the truth, Hobie. It's there and she's waiting for you! I promise! She's the one lying!” He points a crooked finger at Riri.

“Thought you wouldn't beg.” His fate is sealed with the gators. “Technically you did lie.” Hobie drops his arm, gun aimed away from Hicks. “Off you go with the gators, boss.”

“No, no, Hobie! Please, I'm sorry!” Hicks tries to grab at Hobie's leg, but Hobie kicks him down on the ground and on his back. He tilts his head back, meeting face to face with a ten foot alligator that seems to smile at him.

His screams echo around the marsh while Hobie and the others get on their horses. He watches the gator death roll the flailing Hicks on the muddied ground until the wailing stops completely.

Hobie leads the pack away while he leaves behind the sound of tearing skin and bones cracking under sharp teeth. And all he could think about is you, and how he could've had a good life with you.

—

Draped in chiffon and stab silk, iridescent blues and purples dance along the fabric as light hits it. Expensive fabric that hides all the aching blemishes on your flesh by the same men who claim that they are doing it for your sake, that it's the only way you would obey.

Your hands are tied behind your back with Cross' hand wrapped around your wrists in a sickening grip; preventing you from moving. You shine under the southern sun, all gold and frills but none of the happiness behind your sullen and dull eyes.

For a fleeting moment in those months you were with Hobie, you had peace. You'd stay there forever if you could, if only the world had granted it to you, instead of the pain that it brought down upon you.

You could've had a good life together.

It's been a whole month since the last time you saw Hobie alive. A whole month without hearing his voice, without his loving touch; and a whole month with the same family who has hurt you in every possible way they could. The image of Hobie buried under the rubble of your shared home spirals you over the edge once again. You've cried, wept and sobbed some more, but nothing has helped. You feel like you've died right next to him. You wish you had.

Meanwhile you have a wound that was never meant to be healed inside you. A wound that was momentarily healed, until you were brought back to the reality of your dreaded life.

You instinctively run your finger around the gold band around your finger, finding the unfamiliar diamond instead of the simple gold band that turns your face even more sour at the scalding heat that turns your heavy dress into an oven. You had the foresight to hide Hobie's ring the second you had a chance. It now lays underneath your floorboards waiting for you.

There's a heavy feeling in your chest, grief running along your heart, plunging your very being into darkness. It was like that day five years ago, you have no knowledge of him alive, no way of knowing if Hicks ended him. It's an awful case of déjà vu.

Both men stand beside you, as if they're meant to guard you. The estate stands behind you, its large shadow looming over you. All Its white marble and columns stand tall, doors that don't creak, windows pristine and gleaming— but you'd rather have the pile of ashes you once called home.

This place lacks a heartbeat.

You flick your tired eyes over to the well beside the estate, your body shivers from how cold it was inside, when you sank into it like stone the first time Hicks threw you inside. It's a miracle you didn't break your neck, in that moment, you wished it had.

A carriage arrives from a distance, horses galloping along the road towards the estate. Wispy cypress trees sit around the path, parting way for the dirt road leading to the house. Its soft leaves dance in the wind, leaves fluttering by as you watch the carriage get closer and closer.

“Remember to smile, we can't lose their money.” Hicks grabs the back of your dress, yanking your neck down for emphasis. “Don't be a bitch like last time or you'll get the well tonight. And I heard it'll be cold tonight.”

“I'll be in my best behavior, uncle.” Your glare towards the rich couple exiting the carriage says otherwise.

Hicks only gives you a stern look before letting you go. Cross loosens his grip for a moment and you immediately take your hands in front of you so he couldn't hold you again. You haven't spoken a word to the man you call husband since you arrived at the estate. Your defiance got your bedroom door locked from the outside for now but was taken apart for the first week of your stay. Showing you bare to the entire world, revealing to the world that you're his.

The woman clad in gold and gemstones huffs, flinging away a fly from her painted face. “God, I hate this humidity.”

“This better be good this time, Hicks.” Her husband takes his tophat off, wrinkling his nose at the scent of heat and damp marsh.

“You won't regret traveling for this, Mr. Burnell.” Hicks sucks up to the man. “My, don't you look lovely, Mrs. Burnell.”

She giggles, hiding the blush dusting her cheeks with a fan. “Oh don't be such a gentleman, Hicks.”

“Stop sucking up to my wife, Hicks.” Even though his smile tells you that it's a joke, his tone says that he's completely irked by your uncle. Perhaps this has happened before.

You roll your eyes subtly, Cross’ jaw tightens as he shakes hands with both guests. “It's a pleasure to have you both today.” He says flatly.

“An honour.” Your tone is tight, lips turned into a strained smile.

“I remember you,” the male Burnell smiles faintly at you. “And you too,” he points at Cross. “I was at your wedding, what a wonderful ceremony.” You clench your fists tightly around your lace gloves, almost tearing the fabric.

“Oh I also remember!” His wife claps, “your gown was lovely, and the deviled eggs were to die for!”

You laugh, a sound more akin to a scoff. “I should've had some back then.”

Mr. Burnell reaches for both of your hands, holding you gently as you make a face at him that doesn't quite reach the man's full understanding. “I'm sorry about your aunt, we sent flowers to the funeral. I hope it was to your liking.”

“I wouldn't know, I wasn't there.” You swallow thickly.

“Oh poor dear,” The woman touches your cheek, and you flinch away. She coos as if you're a child. “You couldn't even bear saying goodbye.”

“Sure,” you slide your hands away from the man's hold, and then you take her hand away from your skin. “That's why.”

Hicks inhales deeply, “why don't we go to the gazebo? Tea is being served there.” He takes their attention away from you.

“We came all this way and you don't even have lunch for us?” Mr. Burnell raises a thick brow, his wife agrees with a nod.

“We did.” Cross finally speaks through gritted teeth. “It got cold.” The couple flares their nostrils in annoyance.

“This place was hard to find.”

“You had us waiting for two hours. Hardly an excuse, Mr. Burnell.” Cross doesn't back down from the older man's stare.

“W-what my associate was trying to say was that— we didn't want to serve you all cold beef! No one likes cold beef, correct?” Hicks tries to save the day, but they don't respond. “There's deviled eggs in the gazebo.” That seemed to work as they followed Hicks towards the blue gazebo behind the house.

Cross yanks you back to his side before you could get far. Your chest tightens, threatening to stop your breathing as he whispers towards one of the estate workers to prepare a batch of deviled eggs immediately. The second they leave, you glare at Cross, refusing to touch him even though his fingers dig into your arm.

“Don’t run, Y/N.” He says for the umpteenth time. You would run, and you had a few times while you're with him. But you were only met with your cheeks burning into the shape of his palm, and his hired guns dragging you back inside the mansion with their lassos tied around your ankles.

“I can't even breathe in this dress, moreso run in it.” You try to take your arm back but he stops you with his nails dragging along your sleeves.

“Be good, be fucking obedient. Don't be impossible like you always were.” His green eyes remind you so much of Hobie that it taints his image in your mind. You refuse to let it fog his image.

“I am not a dog, Cross.” You fight back, why shouldn't you? You have nothing to lose now.

He comes close to your face, jade eyes reflecting the fear in your expression, breath wafting over your face. “Then don't act like one.” His eyes pass over your face, finding fear laced in between the creases of your expression. His tone softens, one that sends shivers down your spine. “Why don't you call me by my real name? Cross is our last name, Y/N. Can you call me—”

“No.” You yank yourself away even if it means that his fingers drag along your arm in a manner that makes your skin run cold.

The next thing you know you're sitting next to Mrs. Burnell, who swallows down deviled eggs like its water. The entire table is set all prettily, blue laces sitting under white porcelain, utensils draped in silver, and chairs soft whilst the gazebo with lilacs growing on the roof acts as your shade. A graveyard full of Cross’ ancestors lies just a few ways away from the gazebo. Withering gravestones left unattended, and overgrown grass drowning each of the carved names. It leaves a heavy presence in the back of your mind.

The fork in your hand shakes, silver shining in the sunlight bearing down behind you just as when a pair of red cardinals fly next to the gazebo. The murmurs of the marsh echoes around the estate, gators trilling a few ways away, birds chirping and cawing right next to croaking bullfrogs. You're surrounded by green with a dash of greed as Hicks continues to suck up to the rich prospective partners.

A hand cups your own, and for a flicker, you thought it was Hobie's calloused hand gently holding onto you until his nails jab into your palm. Cross gives you a hard look, gesturing for you to eat instead of staring blankly at the cakes in front of you. With a mocking smile, you take a glass of cold orange juice on your right, condensation drenching your ungloved hand. You don't break eye contact as you gulp down the entire glass, making the Burnells look at you with pinched brows. For the final touch, you exhale loudly as if you were thirsty beyond belief.

Hicks chuckles nervously, eyes darting from you to the rich couple. Cross is fuming silently, letting your hand go limp on the table. An employee comes to your side, refilling your glass as everyone at the table stays in awkward silence. You can't help but puff out your chest with pride. Hobie would've loved to see that. Their faces would be worth it for the wrath you're about to face.

Mr. Burnell clears his throat, “as I was saying, we can't give twenty thousand for only ten percent shares. It's daylight robbery, Hicks.”

“Oh come on, Quentin, you've known me for a long time!” Hicks plays the ‘old friend’ card, a trick you've seen one too many times. “You know I can be trusted, and that ten percent will go higher once we've had our foothold here in America.”

“I do know you, that's why you can't be trusted. Even her aunt knew better when she gave the company to her.” Burnell pauses, bespectacled eyes staring at you briefly. Your lips curl up into a smirk. You probably don't have to work too hard in sabotaging this one. “Besides, that was back when you were the leading manufacturer in the UK. There was a guarantee, now you're here in a country that is practically shitting bullets by the buckets.” He leans back in his seat, “face it, you old dog, there's no profit here for you.”

“He's right,” His wife enters the conversation, dabbing her mouth daintily with a handkerchief. “Why did you even move here in the first place? I heard the company was doing badly back home but not that bad, right?”

Hicks coughs, drinking from his glass, stalling from answering. Cross has had enough, he leans on the table, elbows right next to his untouched plate, white suit unblemished.

“Because I'm here.” He takes your hand, making a show of it for the Burnells. He's using the ‘I love my wife’ card. Surprisingly, it's only the second time he has used it on the rich and stupid. “And my wife deserves to be with her husband, yes?” The couple looks at each other, then returns their attention to you as you try incredibly hard not to vomit all over the table. “I've…ignored her for far too long while I'm always here tending to my own business.” He clasps the back of your hand with his free hand. “We were deeply saddened by her aunt's passing, but I saw a silver lining. Taking the tragedy and turning it into something better by bringing her and her family business here to my home so we could finally start having our own family here without the dark cloud looming over us.” He was right about one thing, your aunt was a dark cloud looming over everyone. Cross leaned close, pecking your hand chastely. “Right, love?”

You close your eyes to prevent yourself from heaving out what little you've eaten. “Right.” Tone small and disgusted, you have the sudden urge to stab his eyes out with a fork. For a second, your mind gives you that exact image. Seeing his blood spurt out from his sockets and spraying on the deviled eggs.

For some reason, even with the disgusted look on your face, the Burnells' hard exterior softens. The missus clutches the pearls on her chest as if she just heard the most romantic story, and the male Burnell nods along with a fond smile. “You two remind me of my first marriage.” His wife chuckles, you frown, eyebrows knitted together as Cross plays along to his concocted story.

They continue their negotiation with more enthusiasm. Hicks pats Cross gladly on the shoulder, already drafting up a contract on a piece of parchment. Thankfully, Cross has let you go. Free to wipe your hand on your dress. You replay the last minute in your mind, like you're stuck in the moment he touched you with his dry lips upon the same hand you used to cradle Hobie's face with.

The conversation fades into the background, a thought passes you by, one that you're too grief stricken to see until now. Why is Cross even helping Hicks? He has the money to fund whatever the factory needs, he doesn't even need to be in the conversation. He has nothing to gain from this. He already has you, so why does he seem so desperate to get this partnership?

Then it hits you, he's as bankrupt as Hicks. Hicks, who drove the company to the ground with his moronic decisions the second your great aunt was in the ground. And Cross, there was never a day in your short marriage with him that he wasn't out gambling his family fortune away, or going to exotic places you've only read in books. When he doesn't have his hands on you, he's at the nearest pub or the derby races, betting everything in his pockets. You always just thought he had that much money to lose. But you were wrong. And the only reason you're here is because of the money your parents have set aside for you, money that is tied up with the company or what is left of it— the company that you own and have the last say in. Until your name isn't written in that contract that Hicks shoves in your face every morning, they have nothing.

“You have nothing.” You blurt out, you don't regret it immediately.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Burnell says, offended.

“Not you, I know you have money.” You place your elbows on the table, chin propped up on your scarred palm. “I was talking about my dear uncle and beloved husband.” Your words drip with venom and sarcasm.

“What are you saying?” Mrs. Burnell asks, concerned, either for your well being with the two men or for the money she almost lost.

“Shut it, Y/N.” Hicks says through gritted teeth, eyes warning you.

“Don't tell a woman to shut up, Hicks.” Surprisingly, Mr. Burnell defends you. “Speak, girl.” And there goes your respect.

“They don't have anything.” Cross tries to yank your hand back but you quickly tug yourself away. “Hicks is lying, the company is losing money, not gaining it. Production has been down since they moved here, probably because Hicks doesn't know how to run a company.”

You continue your tirade without missing a beat. “He was a manager before marrying my aunt, but he was a shit manager. If not for Peter—” you inhale and clear your mind. “All I'm saying is, he's asking for a scapegoat for the debt collectors, not a business partner.” You flick your eyes mockingly towards the seething Hicks. Meanwhile, Cross sits quietly, you're afraid but you have to continue. “I retract my previous words.” Hicks inhales with relief. “It's not probably, it's definitely.” He stutters, trying to save face but you continue. “He's overworking the workers and because of that there's more mistakes. More mistakes means more bullets that come out a little crooked. That's good, if your targets swerve to the left.”

“She's lying!” Hicks laughs shakily, fists slamming down on the table. “You know how women are? She's hysterical because of her aunt's passing.”

You scoff. “You said it yourself, Mr. Burnell, you don't trust Hicks.” All eyes are on you. Your words fill you with pride, Hobie would be proud. “As for Cross, I wouldn't even trust him with my coin pouch.”

The Burnells seemingly believe you, heads turned slowly towards Cross and Hicks, eyes boring holes in their foreheads. “Looks like we wasted our time. You're right, honey, we should've gone for the Winchester instead of this clown show.”

“You believe me?” You ask, bewildered. “That quick?”

“We passed by the factory on our way here, that's why we were late.” Burnell answers back. Already taking his belongings to leave. “We saw the horrid conditions. We were naive to believe that it was like that because you're still getting used to the transition.” He helps his wife up as Hicks follows behind the couple. Cross stays behind silently while you stay with the Burnells in hopes that they'd take you with them. “Thank you, girl.”

“You're welcome, c-can I—” The couple gets in their carriage, eyes blinking at you. “Can I come with you?” You sound like a child, voice trembling in hope that they'll say yes. “Please.”

Hicks chuckles incredulously right next to them, but his eyes grow dark at your request, a warning. Cross appears behind you, green eyes hidden by the shadow of his hat, lips clamped into a fine line.

“What for, girl?” Mr. Burnell asks, “We don't need any more bootlicking. We're not giving you the money for the factory.”

You flex your fists on your sides, eyes darting in between Hicks and Cross. Heart thumping, you have to try. “I don't— it's not that. I don't need the money. I—”

“So you do have the money for the company then? Why bother asking us?” The older man cuts you off, scoffing while his wife rolls her eyes. “Kids these days, so greedy.” He gets in the carriage, following his wife.

“Wait! Please!” It's too late as they run off in the distance. In your desperation, you start to run after them. But before you could go far, Cross stops you with his arms embracing you from behind. “No! Please come back! They're hurting me here—!” Your flailing stops when Hicks steps in front of you with his gun raised.

“Do you have any idea what you've done?” He clicks the hammer down, finger right on the trigger. “You've doomed us.”

With tears in your eyes, Cross holds you against him tighter. Chest aching, breath stolen from you. “No, just you!” Yet, you continue to fight. You might've lost hope a long time ago if not for Hobie. Hope that you'll get out like last time, hope that Hobie will be there waiting for you. But there's a part of you that just wants to let go. Looking over your shoulder, you're met with familiar green eyes that used to fill you with calm. “And you.”

“I should shoot you right here.”

“Do it then. But you can't because without my signature you're fucking broke!” With a cackle, Hicks yanks the back of your head, taking you from Cross' arms, dragging you towards the well. Body scraping against soil, you try to scratch at his hands but it doesn't deter him as his anger fuels him.

“Fucking bitch, you keep ruining shit!” He yanks you to your feet, and then pressing your front to the mouth of the well while pushing you down harshly, making you look down at the depths.

You yelp, sharp rocks digging into your stomach, eyes forced to look down at the deep dark well. It's cold down there, you wonder if this is what it felt like for Hobie back at the farm. Staying quiet, your hands grip the sides to keep your balance, a bead of sweat falling down and leaving ripples as it hits the stagnant water.

“What, no begging or screaming and crying this time?” Hicks latches on your hair tightly, scalp burning from his hold.

“I've gotten used to the dark. You won't hear me begging ever again.” Your voice echoes down to the bottom. “You can't hurt me anymore, not in the way that matters.” Releasing your hold on the sides, you lean closer to the edge. Expecting the cold embrace and the familiar weightlessness, it doesn't come.

There's a scoff above before you're let go. “I have to correct your fuck up.” He seethes, giving your leg a swift kick as you lay your head on the stone. “Deal with her.”

“I'm not one of your employees, Hicks.” Cross challenges him.

“She's your fucking wife. You discipline her while I go to the factory. As for you,” he flicks the shell of your ear. “Your name better be on that contract when I get back.” You hear their continued bickering whilst you even out your breathing. Just like what Hobie would tell you.

After a rustle of clothing and dress shoes thumping on the ground, you fall on your knees, still clutching the well. Face hidden from Cross, he sighs, hand reaching towards you. Feeling the sickening familiarity of his hand wrapped around your arm, you instinctively flinch away.

“Why couldn't you just obey, just this once?”

You heave, furrows knitted in anger. Looking over your arm, your glare sends goosebumps up his arms. “I'm not one of your hounds.”

“Then why do you kneel like one?” The sun behind him engulfs his entire form, turning him into a breathing shadow.

“Go fuck yourself, Cross.” You shakily stand up while avoiding his gaze. Walking towards the house, you clench your fists until you feel your blunt nails leave pin pricks of crimson

“I'm trying here, Y/N. You're making it impossible.” He yanks you back, neck craned to the side to look at you. “I'm holding back but you're not making this easy.”

“You sound like this is all my fault.” You still avoid his eyes, forgoing to look at the tree behind him. “I'm not the one who gambled all your money away. And I didn't force you to marry me.” His fingers pull you closer.

“Look at me.”

“Fuck you—” you try to escape but he's stronger.

“Look at me just like how you look at him.” He forcefully turns your head with his hand burrowing into your chin.

With apprehension, you chuckle, a cracked dry laughter. Your eyes slowly move to the green eyes in front of you. “I'll never look at you like that. Nothing you do will make me look at you with the same love I give to him.”

Cross swallows thickly, jaw tightening. “Why him?”

“It felt right. We share the same heart.” It's the first truth you've said in a month, and for once you smile genuinely. “I'll always love him, remember that.”

He inhales, and you wait for the impact.

“Sir?” The housekeeper asks from the side, hands wringing in front of her. “Is everything alright?” Her brown hair shimmers in the sun like copper, lips turned into a fine line.

She reminds you of the former housekeeper that tried to help you by taking your letter addressed to Hobie. Cross found out about it, you haven't seen her since then.

“We're alright, Belinda.” Cross lets you go, leaving a mark on your arm. “Fetch me my hunting rifle.”

You leave with haste, hands shaking as you hitch your skirt up. You can feel his sickly green eyes on you, like a shadow that envelops you whole.

You've crossed the line, and you fear that this is the end for you.

—

Pacing around your room, you walk around and hold your breath. It's like waiting for the gallows, waiting for the bullet to hit you. Hobie's ring is back on your finger instead of what Cross gave you on your wedding day, which is the exact same one you left on the bedside table when you escaped. You twist it around your finger as the room shifts and twirls in your vision.

The room is finely decorated with daffodils painted on the walls, gold fixtures on the ceiling with painted deers trotting overhead on fields of green on the ceiling. The room looks like it used to be a child's room. A pale blue bed sits in the middle of the room, draped in a satin canopy. It's a stark contrast to the room back at the farm, all wood and none of the gilded walls. But you'd choose that a hundred times over if given the chance. Especially if Hobie's there waiting for you.

You feel like you're slowly disappearing into the walls.

Your eyes have been glued to the door as you chew your nails. You'd lock the doors from the inside if the locks weren't instead bolted from the outside. Tears brim at your eyes, but you refuse to let it go as you sniff. You miss your home, you miss the smell of dew in the morning. You miss Clover and how she cuddles on your side. You miss Cherry and Bucky and your afternoon rides with them. You miss him, you miss Hobie and how he holds you gently, how he talks to you about things. It's him talking so you'd listen and speak with him until the sun decides to sleep. You miss his voice telling you that everything will be alright.

You wonder if everything will still be alright when you hear heavy footsteps outside your door.

Cross doesn't knock, and you wait at the foot of your bed, standing straight, eyes forward and daunting despite your fear. If he shoots you through the door now, would Hobie be there to greet you on the other side as darkness engulfs you one last time?

This house will be a tomb. Your tomb.

The door doesn't creek as Cross opens it. “Hunt with me, just like old times.” He has a rifle strapped to his back, suit traded in for his haunting gear, still clad in white leather. Your eyes flick over to the two guns on his belt. If only you could take it from him. Or at least one.

“Giving me a gun? Do you think that's wise?” You cross your arms over your chest, clearing your throat so he doesn't notice the shaking of your voice.

“Why? You'd shoot me in the back?” He asks chidingly.

“In a heartbeat.” You say without even a hint of a joke. “What's even out there, Cross? What are we hunting down?”

“A deer.”

“I don't think there are any deer out here.” A dangerous silence hangs in the air, choking you as he stares deeply at you. You inhale, swallowing down your fear as best as you can. “If you give me a knife instead, I will stab your eye out. Killing other things won't keep us from killing each other.”

He clicks his tongue, hand on the gun like he's mocking you. “Take the dog instead.” Taking the leash off his belt he holds it out for you. “A dog for a hound. At least this one is loyal.”

“Which end of the leash is the hound?”

“What do you want, Y/N, hm?” Tossing the leash harshly, he stalks closer, and you flinch back. A doe caught in the coyote's eye. “I broke your heart, I get it. Do you want me to apologize to you?”

“My heart? That's the only thing you haven't broken yet.” He stops a few feet away from you, yet still too close to you. “You broke my body until I could barely recognize myself anymore. My arms bear the shape of your nails, my scalp remembers the sharp tugs of your hands.” You exhale as a tear falls down your cheek. “Hobie broke my heart, but he pieced it together, piece by tiny piece.” You point at him repeatedly. “You, you broke everything else.”

“If this is about your aunt—”

“Fuck you! This isn't about her.” If this is really your end, you don't want to leave without saying the words you've been meaning to say out loud. You tremble for a second before grinning with tears in your eyes. "I'm glad she's gone. Her hold on me is gone.” You chuckle breathlessly, sighing loudly. “There I said it. It's like a boulder has been lifted off my shoulders.”

“Y/N,” there it is, the patronizing tone he uses on you. He's about to guilt you into something you haven't had a hand in, or chastise you like a child.

“Stop being so fucking delusional, take the blinders off for one fucking minute.” The fire in you latches on you. “This is about you and how you hurt me the second you brought me home after the wedding. You knew that I never wanted to marry anyone else, and that my aunt and Hicks hurt me back home. And instead of helping me, taking me away from them, you joined them.”

“I got you out of there. I married you.”

You laugh without an ounce of humour, clapping wildly. “Well thank you very much, Cross!”

“I tried for a little while, Y/N. But I'm your husband, and you continued to disobey so I had to go to them, ask them for advice.” He walks closer, you stop him with a hand in front of you, as if it will shield you from him. You've tried that once, it didn't work.

“Nothing you do will make me forgive you. I hope you drown in your guilt if you even have an ounce of it. I hope you lay awake at night thinking of how much you hurt me. I'd rather die than forgive you.” Cross steps forward with an unreadable expression, and the back of your knees hits the bed as you try to get away. You eye the gun, you fear that you won't keep your promise to Hobie.

The world already ended for you when Hicks killed him.

Cross tries again. You think it'll be the last time he will the second he walks closer to you, so close that you can see yourself in his eyes. “Sign the papers, Y/N, and everything will be over.”

“You know the second I sign it, Hicks will kill me.” Your eyes wander towards his unlatched gun.

“I won't let that happen.”

You laugh in his face, “Sure, but you'll let him hurt me. Might as well sign my death warrant instead.” Standing back up, you inch towards him bravely despite your instincts telling you to shield yourself. You have to get that gun. “I–I tried to love you at first, and remained optimistic in this marriage.” His eyes are on your face, irises darting over your lips while you sneak your hand towards his gun belt slowly. “Even indulging my idiotic childish whims of what a marriage could be like. But I couldn't, not when you hurt me just like they did. Only because I didn't love you like how you thought I would.” Your hand finds the cold metal, fingers wrapping around the handle. “For a second there I thought you'd be my saviour, when in fact it was the opposite. You joined them instead. You were just as bad as them.”

You stand toe to toe with him. You hear a glass breaking downstairs, and then the smell of something familiar. Snatching the gun quickly, you aim it at his stomach, steel meeting flesh. You feel the same sensation against your chest.

“I love you.” Cross utters, finger right on the trigger.

“I've seen love, this isn't it.” With your cold words, you shoot.

Both guns go off.

Both hitting their targets.

—

The sun is just beginning to set, orange peeking from the horizon, hues of pink and orange blanketing the three men. Each inhale from the cigarette perched in each of their lips has grey smoke filtering through their lungs. They should be guarding the front door like they were hired to do, instead they chainsmoke their way out into an early grave while hiding behind the estate, facing the vast green marsh that hides their debauchery from the rest of the world.

“You hear any cryin’ last night?” The one with an auburn beard asks, his rifle leaning against the wall right next to him instead of in his hand like it was supposed to be in.

A dark haired man answers, belching out smoke while crouched on the ground, eyes narrowed at the whispering willows. “Yeah, i think the stable boy wasn't lying, there's a fuckin' ghost here.”

“You two think it's a fucking ghoul or some shit?” The third one replies with a scoff, blonde hair peeking out from his hat as he takes a swig of moonshine.

“Yeah,” The first two responds, spine tingling when a cold breeze passes through them.

“It's the boss’ wife, not a ghost, you morons.” As the yellowed haired man responds, a bright flicker of light appears in between the willow trees. “What the fuck?” The two men next to him follows his terrified gaze, cigarettes falling off their lips.

The light moves, as if it dances in the wind. It flickers, brightening up into an orange glow before turning yellow once again. The three outlaws move from the wall, eyes glued on the mesmerizing ball of light.

“Fuck, it's a swamp ghost—” the one with the red beard gasps, choking on his own blood, frantically trying to stop his neck from gushing out ichor with a knife stuck to his throat.

The other two only had a split second to react before a sharp knife slashes at their exposed necks. They mirror each other, shirts stained with red, palms coated in warmth and crimson while they frantically try to stop the bleeding. They croak and creak out, eyes managing to fall upon hazel eyes, and one with his face covered in soot. They both hold a glinting knife, blood still trickling down from the steel.

Miguel leaves from his hiding place in the thicket, eyes flicking briefly towards their twitching forms before returning his gaze at the ball of light. He nods to Riri and Karl, who stand above the corpses. And then he gestures with his gloved hand, giving the warm light a small nod.

The light comes closer, footsteps echoing as boots sink in moist soil— appearing behind the darkness of the trees and into the fading light of the sun. Hobie's face is revealed behind the light with a lit cigarette in between his lips, shadows dancing around the fury behind his green eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. He inhales before flicking the cigarette away, falling into a puddle. More appear behind him, trees and bushes parting before the dozen men and women following in his steps.

“Karl, light the oleander for me will you?” Hobie tosses the bag of pink flowers in Karl's waiting hands. And then he takes his knife back from the auburn haired corpse, wiping it on the grass before sheathing it back on his belt.

“D’you think that'll work? What if she gets caught in it?” Riri whispers, gesturing for the gang to crouch down and hide beside the wall where the trio were last seen smoking.

Hobie drags one of the bodies, hiding it behind the bushes while the rest of the gang help with the other two. He follows Riri, blood rushing in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins at how close you are from him. It's only a matter of time before you're back safe and sound.

“She knows the smell, she'll cover her nose.” His voice doesn't waver, but his insides are turning and twisting inside him. He can't fail. “As for everyone, cover your damn noses, and protect your eyes as much as you can.”

“This won't kill us right?” Karl weighs the bag in his hands.

Miguel checks his bullets beside him, giving Hobie and Riri a once over if their weapons are lacking. “At most it'll make us sick and itch. Right, Hobie?”

“Just don't inhale it directly.” Hobie yanks his bandana up to his nose, fitting it snugly. He notices his hands shaking, closing his fists tightly, he cannot fail. A month of tracking you down can't end with him failing to save you, he can't lose you. “You know what to do, Karl. Ri go with him.”

“Hobie,” she clasps the back of his fist. “Be careful, alright? If you get hurt, call Roberto, he'll treat you.” Inhaling sharply, she pats his cheek. “Get her back but don't die on us, alright?”

Hobie couldn't look directly at Riri, “She goes first, Ri.”

“I know, that's why we brought Roberto with us, remember? He's the doctor, he knows what to do and…what to expect, if need be.”

Hobie nods, staring at his family. “Thank you for backing me up, I owe you. All of you.”

“Don't die and we're even, Hobie.” Miguel pats Hobie's bicep before heading to his designated position.

“What he said,” Karl smiles brightly, fist connecting to Hobie's clenched one gently. “Also if I don't return from this, Robbie's gonna fucking kill you, man.”

Hobie cracks a smile. “Yeah, I know. Try to stay alive for the both of us then.” Karl makes his way towards the front while Riri staggers behind, still holding onto Hobie's hand. “Just like Valentine, right?” Riri smiles, hiding her trepidation behind her bandana. He fixes the cloth over her face carefully, tugging it over her nose and ears. “Keep that snug.” She could only nod, eyes brimming with tears. “Don't die on us too, Ri.” With a quick embrace, she leaves, following behind Karl who was waiting for her.

Hobie takes a second to breathe. He has done things like this a hundred times before, but never with you on the line. He can't leave without you like last time. He won't cower behind wooden walls like last time, he's not gonna stand here and tremble and rot and bleed. He's going to get you back. He knows he will.

There's a gunshot echoing inside the estate just as when a glass window breaks, signaling the beginning of the end.

—

The house falls and chaos reigns. They tried to stick to their plan of using stealth, but of course someone saw them and alerted everyone in their presence. Karl got the oleander thrown inside the halls, puffs of pinkish fumes swell out from the bag. Hobie sees the result of it as black smoke turns the estate into the pits of hell. Hobie's eyes waters but he continues to strike anyone who wasn't on his side. He throws his spiked whip towards someone who tried to shoot at Karl, the barbed whip rakes and breaks skin as he tugs and pulls until the man falls down next to his shredded flesh.

Screams echo around the estate, his posse lets go of the innocent unarmed employees while the others aren't so lucky the second they aim back.

They try to fight their way inside, finally thinning the outlaws outside as flames trickle from the burning bag towards the velvet curtains. Embers climb up until they hit the ceiling, fire licking at the once white walls, leaving burn marks in its wake.

A few of the hired guns surrender after recognising Miguel's gang, some were fools who tried to shoot them down but his allies were in greater numbers. More experienced, more bloodthirsty than the hired guns.

All the winning cards are in his hand, all he needs to do is play them right.

“Miguel!” Hobie yells while he and three others try to push through the main doors that refuse to budge open.

Miguel, who was currently brawling with a man taller than him, grunts when a fists harshly connects at his jaw. Hobie curses under his breath, without wasting a second, he aims and shoots. Gunpowder fills his lungs once more as the burly man falls on top of Miguel in a thud.

Hobie stalks towards Miguel, he shoots someone who was aiming at him on his left, his bullet doesn't miss even without him looking at the target. He grabs the body by its vest, yanking it off Miguel.

“Get up,” he reaches for the breathless gang leader, hazel eyes smiling at his old friend.

“I had that, Hobie!” Despite his broken nose, Miguel is back on his feet the moment he takes Hobie's helping hand. “Retirement, huh?”

Hobie shakes his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Fuckin' retirement.” Reloading his gun, he goes back to the locked doors with Miguel now in tow. “On three!” His shoulders meet with the oak, “one!” Miguel nods next to him, bracing himself on the door. “Two!” A few more join in, ready to push the moment he says, “three!”

The doors burst open, splintering wood scattering, smoke coming out into the fray. Hobie meets with Sheriff Lee's eyes before a bullet hits him directly on his shoulder.

“Fuck!” He falls on his knees, clutching his wound as blood seeps through his fingers.

“Should've left when you had the chance, Mr. Brown!” Lee taunts, reloading his hunting rifle, giving Miguel enough time to drag Hobie back outside and placed behind the wall. “Come back here, murderer!”

A few shots ring out, both parties exchanging bullets. Your face appears in front of him before it’s replaced by the doctor's face. He needs to get you out quickly before the oleander takes hold. Hands tie a bandana around his wound, Hobie stands up the second that the cloth is tightened.

“Keep that on!” Roberto yells above the booming gunfire. “I’ll fix you properly right after this!”

Hobie nods, blinking the haze away. Miguel shakes him awake while avoiding his injury. “Lee's down! We'll handle the rest down here, we heard that she's upstairs.”

“Okay,” Hobie inhales and exhales, I'm almost there, love.

When the bullets stop flying inside the now bullet ridden manor, he steps foot inside. Glass crunches at his feet, eyes darting and alert from any surprises. He sees bodies littered on the marble floors, both from his side and Lee's. The sheriff lays under a pile of broken vase, eyes wide open, fingers still enclosed around his gun. The smoke thickens, and he hears blasts reverberating around the house.

Miguel's posse storms the place, pocketing whatever shines inside the house. A few more bullets are shot from deep inside the walls, but it's clear who's the winner. Hobie just wants you back.

Just as when he's about to climb the winding stairs with his throbbing shoulder, he sees a man stagger out from a room. “Is that—?” The bloodied man in the hunting gear trips and falls off the railing, plunging down right next to where Hobie's standing.

Cross lays on his own puddle of rubies, a gaping hole in his stomach instead of his insides. “H-help me,” Begging, he looks at Hobie with his bloodshot eyes, reaching towards Hobie's leg with his broken hand. “She's upstairs. Y-you can have her.”

“Is that him?” Miguel asks, and Riri appears from the side. Eyes watching the wounded man. Hobie nods, eyes never leaving Cross.

Hobie aims at Cross' head, seething. “She is not a thing to be had.” His aim stays true, but he shakes his head, lowering his gun down. “Nah, I'll let her bullet kill you.”

Miguel smirks, while Riri and him have a silent communication. “Don't worry, Hobie, we got rich boy.” He takes out his lasso from his waist, crossing the distance towards the dying Cross.

Riri gestures for Hobie to continue up the stairs. “Go! We'll be waiting.”

With a grateful nod, Hobie runs up the stairs towards his fire and his light. His heavy footsteps echo, breathing staggered as he thinks of you. What if he finds you in the same condition as Cross? What would he do if he sees you bleeding out? So he runs despite his own injuries, to see you again, to hold you again.

He follows the blood trail once he gets close enough, instead of your smiling face greeting him back, he stares at your body covered in crimson. Soft blue bed sheets stained with dark rubies. Arms spread on the bed as you lay on the soft mattress with your eyes unblinking towards the ceiling.

Hobie calls for you, air sucked from his lungs with every step he takes. He reaches for you, tears turning you into a watercolor painting in his vision. Red and blues blending into a watery picture.

You feel like you're in the bottom of a well, staring up at your aunt's sneering face. Your breathing is labored while the bullet is stuck in your chest, right below your ribcage. There's no pain, no feeling in your fingers as you see Hobie's face appear from above. Head perfectly lined up with the deer antlers painted on the ceiling.

“Found the deer, Cross.” You murmur, eyes hazy, lips barely opening.

“Stay awake, love.” Hobie's hand trembles as he rips his bandana off to stave off the bleeding by plugging the wound. You cry from the sudden pain, hands flying towards his wrists. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” His tears flow down your cheek. “This'll be over, I need to carry you.”

“Hobie?” Your eyes focus on his face, meeting with his viridescent eyes. “Are you real?” Nails dig into his flesh, you sob, fingers shaking whilst you reach for his face. The pads of your fingers brush along his jaw, stubble returning you back to reality. “I'm so s-sorry, I should've told you.”

“None of that.” He holds onto the back of your hand, letting your palm rest on his cheek, lips brushing along your wrist. The matching rings reflect the growing fire ebbing towards the room.

“It h-hurts, Hobie.”

Sniffing, burning wood enters his lungs, sobs threatening to pull him down to you. “I know, I know.” He wipes the tears and the sweat off your forehead. “But we need to move, love, there's a fire and I need to carry you down.”

You gaze at his green eyes, sorrow and grief twisting and turning behind them. They remind you of home, of Clover, of Cherry and Bucky. And you remember your promise to him, an impossible promise that you will try to keep. But if it means that it's his end too, you have to break it. For his sake.

You grip his shoulders, Hobie notices how weak your hold on him is. “Okay, okay, carry m-me down.” There's a taste of copper in your mouth, lips coated in the bitter taste.

He nods, wiping his tears with his sleeves before sliding his hand behind your back, finding your warm blood sticking to the bedsheets. “I got you.” Whispering against your crown, he lifts you up mere inches away from the bed before you scream in agony. “‘m sorry!” He cries into your hair, your grip weakening even more.

“W-we can try again.” You slide your palm to his nape, “try again, Hobie.”

Hobie flicks his eyes towards you, the light behind your eyes is starting to dim. “Help!” He yells in desperation at the door, in hopes that someone comes bounding up the stairs. “Riri! Miguel! Anyone!”

Your heart breaks, “Hobie, Hobs.” Patting his chest, it's getting harder to breathe. “L-leave. Leave me here.” Hobie's already shaking his head. You smile softly at him, the best you could do despite your body dying. “You have to, you can't die here.”

“And you do?” He cups your face, “we still have forever to go, remember?”

He doesn't want you to come back as a dream anymore, or a shadow embracing him from behind; or a pain in his chest when he hears your name in his mind. He doesn't want your ghostly kiss to taste like ashes on his lips.

He doesn't want you to go.

“I'm sorry, I can't keep my promise. B-but you still can.” You weakly push down at his nape to feel his forehead against yours one last time. Your eyes are starting to close. “Live for me, would you?”

“No, please.” His palm slides right above your heart, feeling your heartbeat slow down. One last time, he yells for help. His throat burns as the ceiling above is engulfed in flames. No one comes to help. “I have to break my promise too, love.”

“Don't, please.”

“A life lived without you isn't a life well lived, remember?”

You accept death in his warm embrace. “I'll see you in a bit then.”

Flames engulf the room in its fiery destruction. Paint melting off the walls, wood and glass cracking under the pressure. And yet, he still holds on to you, lips pressed on your cold lips in a fleeting goodbye.

“Hobie!”

—

In the middle of nowhere sits the remnants of a farm with clovers growing all around it. Vines snaking along what remains of the farm house, and in those vines, pink hydrangeas grow and thrive amidst the cinders. And behind those darkened wood sits two graves with clovers growing on top of the soil. Two names are etched on simple limestone graves, they bear the same last name and same date of death.

Many travelers pass through the place without ever knowing the story behind the two graves. Seasons come and go, flowers bloom and wither. But only a few ever knew what used to stand on the emerald farm. What used to grow, what colour the house was, and who used to live in it. Stories were whispered and told but only a few truly knew the story behind it, few who came and visited and placed flowers on each of the graves.

And in those few, only three of them know that the once abundant farm where two graves were dug right under an oak tree, are empty.

The stories and the graves were enough to fool anyone left that wants to hurt either one of you to turn back and lament.

The true story lies behind the northern border, where pine trees grow up to the skies. Where snow and ice envelops the whole place. Where the two names etched on the gravestones in the empty farm now live.

“Stop bullyin’ your brother.” The dappled foal yelps, trotting away from his much bigger older brother. The dark horse with white splotches turns his bright blue eyes towards Hobie, huffing and puffing like an annoyed teenager. “Don't huff at me,” great, now he's the one talking to horses. “Go tell your dad not to have any more kids. Not my problem, junior.” The young horse rears, running towards the barn where Buckeye and Cherry sleeps.

Hobie leans on the fence, watching the sunrise on his expansive land. Horses and foals run around freely, feeling the cold gust of wind in their manes. A few sheep roam the grounds, while a pair of cows chew their way towards the fences. Snow-capped mountains rise up high in the background, white snow dusted along the rocks like sugar. While the trees dotted along the mountainside makes for the perfect scenic view. He pulls at his jacket closer to himself, fur tickling his nose as he breathes out puffs of smoke from the cold temperature. Winter’s coming, he can feel it in his joints as another breeze rolls in. He smiles in contentment when the air carries the sound of ducks quacking from their coop, and the smell of morning dew passing by. No more does the smell of fiery gunpowder graze his senses, and no sounds of bullets firing ringing in his ears.

He keeps his hat snug on his head, Clover runs by with her litter of puppies tugging along. And he feels you before you arrive by his side. A smile tugs on his lips, hand already reaching for your waist.

“What are you thinking about, cowboy?” You flutter your eyelashes, chin placed in his shoulder.

“That I have it good, too good.”

You give him a tender smile, leaning to kiss his jaw. “None of that. This isn't too good for you, you deserve all of this.”

“Too early to wallow, huh?” Hobie wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer, and then he twists around to face you fully, back leaning on the fence, admiring you in the bitter blue of dawn.

You find penchants on his sternum, nose nuzzling his scar. “So fucking early.” He laughs, music to your ears.

“Hard to get used to, huh?”

“Kind of, it's a good feeling though, waking up.”

“You feel okay, right?” His palm pats your chest gently where a scar lies. “No breathlessness? Nothin'?”

You sniff at the cool wind, “nothing, I'm fine, Hobie.” You cup his cheek, jaw rounded at the edges, scruff tickling you, he looks as if time hasn't passed. “Nothing to worry about.” He leans towards your touch, fingers bracelet around your wrist gently, lips meeting your skin. “You okay?”

“Never better, love.” His green eyes twinkle, free arm pulling you impossibly closer. “Especially today.”

You tilt your head playfully. “What's today exactly?”

“Cheeky,” he pokes your side. “You know what day it is.”

You feign realization. “Ah! I remember now, Riri and the gang are coming over.”

“Yes, and?” He grins, biting his lower lip, jade eyes crinkling at the corners. Seeing the matching rings on your finger and his own makes him smile wider.

You suck in your teeth, acting like you're thinking. “It's Bucky's birthday?” Hobie rolls his eyes with a chuckle, and you finally relent. “I know what day it is.” You lean away, taking out a letter addressed to Hobie from your pocket. It's filled with affectionate words, loving thoughts and everything in between. It's a love letter just for him. “Happy anniversary, Hobs.”

Hobie's chest fills with a sense of belonging, heart full with his love for you. He keeps the letter in his coat pocket, right above his heart. “Happy anniversary, lovie.” He pulls you back, you giggle as your palm hits his chest, fingers snaking up to his nape to guide him towards your waiting lips.

“Forgot something, cowboy?” You say against his lips, and he nudges your nose with his own.

You feel something grazing against your chin, and when you flick your eyes down, you see a letter written in his hand, addressed to you. You tamp down your excitement, snatching the envelope, giving it a peck and tucking it inside your jean pocket.

“Never, read it together like always?” He pecks your warm lips once, then twice before indulging himself in your warmth.

“Yes,” you utter, breathlessly. “But inside, your tea, and the girls are waiting.”

Hobie chortles, kissing you again before reluctantly pulling away. “They're awake?”

“They smelt breakfast.” You inhale, letting his sandalwood and mint scent waft over you with ease. “If you hurry, there might still be some left for you.” You begin to walk away, hand grasping his palm.

“Alright, just one more then we'll go.” He pulls you back to his chest gently as you giggle atop his lips. He kisses you like he did all those years ago.

In the middle of nowhere, his story begins. And in the middle of nowhere, his story ends with you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking around this long! Our beloved cowboy is finally happy and at peace 🥺 If you loved reading OPIN please consider reblogging ❤️

[icyg4l]

Pick-A-Girl Group: What Purpose Do the Women In Your Life Serve?

Continuing on with my Women’s History Month series, I am going to do a reading on how the women in your life feel about you and the effect of these feelings. I am going to be using the True Heart Tarot Deck and the Archetype Oracle Deck. These readings are supposed to uplift, relate to and inspire women so I hope they serve their purpose. I Without further ado, please pick your pile. 🫶

***Disclaimer: Regardless of your gender identity, the women that are in your life deserve to be celebrated as long as they have pure intentions. Much love. 🩷

Left-to-Right (1-4):

Pile One: If you resonate with the image of FLO, then you deserve the whole fucking world. Pile One, the women in your life absolutely adore you. You probably resonate with the song’s theme: recognizing beauty in yourself when everyone is against you, specifically as a black woman. You have come such a long way. The women that are currently in your life have seen you make mistakes and allowed you to do so. They recognize your evolution. A lot of you have a best friend who you’ve been friends with for a long time and she is so proud of you. She is proud of the person that you have become. This pile has some cheerleaders around them. I feel like the women in your life are meant to take inspiration from what you are going through right now. I think that you may be going through your redemption arc.You’re forgiving yourself for a lot of things that you’ve done in the past. The women in your life see that and are following suit. After all, living life does mean not being a robot. These women who are around you are all ears, very receptive to what it is that you are doing with your life. You’re like their Oprah, lol. If you have a story to tell, share it with her. She may need to hear it. I channeled the show: Beyond Scared Straight; specifically the parts where the prisoners talk to the kids about their life stories and the reasoning for why they should not end up in jail. I feel like you could be someone’s mentor, whether they’re younger or the same age as you, perhaps even older. You are someone’s Reesa Teesa too, lol. I get the feeling that you need to be talking about yourself, Pile One. There is an audience full of women who are willing to hear you out and listen. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

God: Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others/Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people 

Mother: Nurturance, patience, unconditional love. Joy in giving birth to life/Smothering or abandoning children. Instilling guilt in children for becoming independent.

Poet: Expresses soul insights in symbolic language/Turns a lyric gift to negative or destructive effect. 

Cards Used: 2 of Swords, 4 of Discs, 9 of Cups, Prince of Wands (RX), King of Discs, Four of Cups, Temperance.

Pile Two: If you resonate with the photo of Destiny’s Child, you got some ride or dies around you for real. I think that you’ve been through hell and back with the women in your life and they do not play about you. I think the women in your life want you to know that you are so worth it. I’m not going to lie Pile Two, it sounds like you’re in a toxic love situation and your girls want you out of it. Your friends, cousin or little sister could have told you that you need to exit stage left multiple times. They absolutely believe you deserve better. Hypothetically speaking, If y’all fell out today and an emergency happened tomorrow, they would be on the way to the hospital. I feel like family is so important to you. They feel like you’ve forgot about them but I don’t think that you have. Circumstances make it difficult for you all to see eye-to-eye. The women in your life want you to know that you are not alone. They will forever be there for you no matter what, even if you have lost your damn mind. These challenging times will make the bond between you and these women stronger. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

Artist: Expressing a dimension of life that is beyond the five senses. Inspiring others to see life symbolically / Using talent as an excuse to mistreat others. Posing as the Starving Artist to elicit pity.

God:  Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others / Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people 

Goddess: The feminine expressed through wisdom. Nature, life force, and sensuality / Exploitation of the female nature and form 

Cards Used: Ace of Discs, 9 of Swords, Princess of Cups (RX), Prince of Discs, The Hierophant, Princess of Discs, 4 of Cups (RX), The Devil (RX), 10 of Cups.

Pile Three: If you resonate with the photo of TWICE, you got the grandmother spirit around you. Did you grow up in the church? Or at least with a god-fearing grandmother? I feel like the women in your life hate to see you unhappy and this is what you’re feeling right now. I think that you may be uninspired/unfulfilled with what life is giving you right now. It’s not an uncommon feeling. But smiling can make all the difference. The women in your life want to see you smile, make you smile and laugh. They want to be there for you like how your grandmother was. No one will ever replace Granny but her presence is always there. You may be questioning God/your higher powers because of something that deeply affected you. But the women around you want you to not feel ashamed or want you to feel like they are judging you. They have been in the same predicament. They only want to see you get better. They hate to see you like this. It may be hard to do this but look at the glass half full, rather than half empty. They want you to get back to yourself, the version of you that isn’t defeated. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

Child: Nature: Friendships with animals. Communication with nature spirits / Tendency to abuse animals, people and the environment. 

Destroyer: Releasing what is potentially destructive. Preparing for new life / Intoxication with destructive power. Destroying others’ dreams or potential.

Child: Magical: Seeing the potential for sacred beauty in all things. The belief that everything is possible / Pessimism, depression and disbelief in miracles. Believing that energy and action are not required for growth.

Cards Used: The Devil, Princess of Cups, The Star, Judgment, The Moon, Temperance, Seven of Swords.

Pile Four: And lastly, if you resonated with the photo of the Spice Girls, you seem very sensual. Are you a SWer? Do you attend pole dancing classes for fun? Do you know someone who does either of these things? I feel like the women in your life appreciate how physical you are. You’re probably an artist and you're sensitive about your shit too. The women in your life feel as though you have a lot of talents. You’re very multifaceted and they love to brag about it, especially the older women. You could been the cousin who had to show off the latest dance move. So as a result, you became the leader of the pack. You can be naturally nurturing but it can drain you. The women around you feel like you need to put up some boundaries so that you can still worry about you. They respect your quality of being a giver, but do you even respect yours-[GUNSHOT]. There is a woman that you are close to that admires a quality that you hate. She compliments it any chance she can get because she wants to uplift you. I feel like people always try to touch you, whether it’s your hair, your arms, or even your butt. The women around you could immediately shut it down or call them out or defend it. They want to protect your innocence. Even though you are grown, you have that ingenue within you. They know how you can get (especially while under the influence) so they refuse to let you get that way. When I pulled from my oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

Servant: Delight in serving others with a free and loving heart / Using the lack of money as an excuse not to move forward with life 

Bully: Highlights your tendency to intimidate others. Helps you confront the inner fears that bully you / Conceals deep fears behind verbal or physical abuse.

Hedonist: Inspires creative energy to embrace the good things in life. Celebrates the beauty in yourself / Pursues pleasure to the detriment of health. Indulges at the expense of others.

Cards Used: The Star, The Lovers, Judgment, The Emperor, 7 of Cups, 10 of Swords, Ace of Cups, The Moon, 8 of Cups (RX).

[sft-chrry]

where’s our kid?

pairings: y. tsugikuni, m. kanroji, s. shinazugawa, k. tanjiro x fem!reader (separately)

contains: reader got burn (yoriichi), baby got sunburned (sanemi)

a/n: i made this at 1 am so if there are mistakes forgive me huhu. i also used a wheel to decide which character should i use lol

y. tsugikuni

• he was so tired of slaying demons that he didn't hear you say “can you watch over (c/n)?”

• as he went drift to sleep he felt you getting close to him

• he was expecting a “hello my love lets sleep together” but he got a “yoriichi where’s our child?!”

• he got up so quick that his back cracked

• he looked at you and asked why were you asking him and you said that he was supposed to watch over since you were cooking something and (c/n) was not behaving

• you were panicking because you didn’t know what to do

• you’re still cooking and if you went to look for (c/n) your lunch might get burnt so you left that job to yoriichi

• now you're panicking and cooking which is not a great combo for you! so you ended up burning yourself once

• good thing he found his child before you kill him with chopsticks

m. kanroji

• you two were sleeping together with your child in between the both of you

• when you shifted your body towards mitsuri you knew there was something missing

• so you woke up and saw mitsuri literally next to you

• you really thought you had squished your baby with your body causing you to scream

• and causing mitsuri to scream

• and causing the baby to cry

• you instantly go get to pick your baby which is near mitsuri’s closet leaving a confused mitsuri on your futon

• as you calmed down your child you looked at your partner and she was looking at you confused

• you explained to her that you thought that you squished you baby and that's why you screamed

• you two ended up cuddling

• that's when you both decided that the baby starts sleeping on its designated bed

s. shinazugawa

• you were grocery shopping and sanemis home with your child

• he was watching (c/n) play with its toys so he just let them do its thing

• then he remembered that he needed to clean his katana because he's a clean freak sometimes

• so he kinda forgot that he had a child to look after

• when you went home you saw sanemi with wet hair so you assumed he took a bath with your child

• but then you didn't saw (c/n) anywhere so you asked your husband “wheres (c/n)?”

• his eyes widened and you knew he didn’t know

• he tried laughing it off and then sanemi ran outside where your child was

• when you catched up to him, you saw your child

• who just got sunburnt

• it was very obvious that it got sunburnt

• so when you tried to pick them up they cried

• you cut some aloe vera since you also have sensitive skin and rubbed it at your child

• when your child drifted to sleep, you began scolding your husband

k. tanjiro (aged up)

• it was a daddy daughter/son date for the two of them

• of course you were fine with it since your 4 year old child didn’t get to spend time with their father

• so when they got home they saw you sleeping

• they didn’t want to disturb you so they showered quietly and slept next to you

•when you woke up in the middle of the night you saw tanjiro but you didn’t see your child

• you had to say tanjiro 7 times for him to wake up he did not woke up to you saying tanjiro, he woke up because you covered his nose

• he was confused and said that she was besides you

• when you told him that they were not there he got up and looked for them

• it didn’t take long since tanjiro has a keen sense of smell but that didn’t stop him from overthinking that a demon got his child

• when he got back he told you that they were just sleepwalking and went back to sleep

🍒 reblogs and notes are appreciated !

🍒 sft-chrry 2023

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 11)

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

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: honestly dedicated to @thehighladywrites because we love High Lord Eris in this house 😏😌🫶🏻

also, i feel like this timeline ca be confusing because i honestly dont know what im doing lol so just so you all are aware, this part is supposed to be based on the time just before feyre has fled the night court 😉

(Not edited as i am going to slee, sorry! ignore any mistakes ❣️)

•○🌑○•

The curtains were parted to let in a gentle autumn breeze which toyed with the ends of Y/n's hair, and she huffed gently when she felt someone watching her.

She finished adjusting the covers around the sleeping Fin, taking her time to smooth out the creases before she straightened, turning to find Eris leaning against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes trained on the softly snoring boy on the bed.

And he was shirtless.

Y/n told herself it was not that big of a deal, that she had seen plenty of men naked, but seeing that pale expanse of skin covering those hard earned muscles, something shifted in her belly.

He glanced at her, blinking when she stepped forward. He straightened when Y/n continued walking forward, and his arms fell at his sides when she passed by him.

Her brows furrowed as she glanced at him and found a blush covering his face.

"Eris? Are you alright? Is your magic malfunctioning or something?"

He shook his head, still standing in the doorway. She paused to turn an watch him.

"You look a little red, you know. Are you sure you don't have a fever?"

He shook his head again, glancing back at Fin once before he inclined his head towards the corridor leading away from the boy's room.

To say Y/n was concerned and confused would be an understatement.

Eris closed the door to Fin's room gently, then grasped Y/n's hand, hesitantly, tugging her towards a large window nearby.

Y/n whirled towards him the moment he stopped walking. "Eris? What is going on?"

He didn't say anything, simply pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket of the pants that hung dangerously low on his hips.

Y/n's frustrations finally got the best of her. "Are we playing charades, Eris? Or did someone cut off your tongue?"

He sighed. "I did not want to be the bearer of bad news, but I guess I still am as I brought you the letter. It's from Feyre. Forgive me for reading it, but it was open when it fell onto my desk."

Y/n's heart slowed down in fright. It... It could also be something good, right? It didn't have to be about her leaving Rhysand. It could be about him getting better and apologizing...

Y/n knew how stupid it was, really, to hope for that.

And even if that hope had really come true, Feyre was responsible enough to not send the letter practically in the middle of the night.

Y/n opened the folded piece of paper, her eyes moving frantically as she read it and searched for words that would soothe her worries.

It was all in vain.

Y/n, I can't live here anymore. I will soon be winnowing to autumn with Nyx. I hope you don't mind.

Y/n suppressed the rage that reared its head in her chest, taking a deep breath as her eyes rose to meet Eris's.

His eyes held the same sadness she felt and was sure were displayed in her own eyes.

"I have weakened the wards enough for both of them to come through without any harm coming to them, and have already ordered the servants to prepare quarters for them to live in. You don't have to worry about much."

Grateful, Y/n moved without realising what she was doing. One moment, she was standing facing him, the cool autumn air curling around her, and the next, she was surrounded by warmth, her face buried in his shoulder, her arms thrown around her neck. He stiffened, but moments later, he relaxed with a heavy sigh, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Thank you." She mumbled onto his welcoming skin, tightening her hold, knowing she shouldn't.

She felt him nod, and she pulled back to glance at him.

If there was any chance Y/n had been mistaken before about him blushing, she wasn't now.

He definitely was blushing, as red as the colour of the leaves in the court he ruled.

"It- it's nothing."

Despite the heavy news that they had received, Y/n felt her lips curl. "Are you blushing, Vanserra?"

He huffed. "Of course not. Why would I blush?"

"You know," Y/n began as se stopped leaning on him and straightened, though his hands tightened on her waist, as if unwilling to let go. Y/n chose to remain silent on the matter. "It is not nice to lie. Did your mother not teach you?"

He leaned his head closer, a smirk forming on his lips. "She might have, but she also focused more on how to treat the female you love the right way. Must've forgotten about the lying lessons."

Y/n blinked, her face going hot. But before she could say anything, she felt Eris stiffen under her arms. He pulled away instantly, tearing his hands through his hair.

"She's here."

Y/n nodded, her hands falling heavily to her sides.

"Let's go welcome them."

•○🌑○•

Part 12

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God  (Part 5)

Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Ch Summary: Elain tries to hold on to whatever relationship she and Azriel have left. Will he submit to her desires? Or seek you out instead?

Or

You accidentally discover what the inside of a cell looks like. 

word count: 4.3k

Ch warnings: SA (groping, not graphic and no p in v), thoughts of murder, drugging, cheating (don't worry), slight pregnancy talk. 

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT,  mentions of SA, angst, hurt/comfort, war, murder including injuries, fighting, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, soft Az with a little temper, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I had something totally different planned but decided to take this little detour. Lol. I believe after this chapter we will see more of Azriel and reader interactions. I think. Idk. maybe. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

The following day Lucien had gotten into a fight with Eris, what was at first a screaming match turned physical, as fists flew left and right. Both males stubborn in their decision, Lucien adamant that he already had planned to run away with you to the Spring Court and Eris tried to explain that a life on the run was no life at all. He promised Lucien you’d be well taken care of and that you’d be a wonderful High Lady when the time came. “No! I’d rather die than watch her marry you.” Lucien roared, angering his brother even more. “We will leave in two days' time and you will not seek us out.” Two days. Eris had two days to figure out how to make you stay.  

If Eris was to be the next High Lord he’d have to do dishonorable things to get what he wanted. This was the first of many. “Gods forgive me for what I'm about to do,” he whispered to himself as he mixed the sex pollen into the cake batter. He placed the round tins in the oven, just like his mother had shown him many times before. Once the cake was frosted and decorated he hand delivered it to an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long while. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again Azriel watched as you walked away, a lone shadow ordered to follow and keep you  safe trailing behind you. Shame filled his guilty heart. He had never acted this way before, not with Mor or Elain or any other female he had in his bed. It was foolish to judge you when he’s had more than enough partners in the 500 plus years he’s been alive.   

Was he going to apologize by fetching you contraceptive tea from The Night Court, so you could sleep with someone else, while he pinned after you? 

Yes. Yes he was, and he certainly wasn't thrilled about it. 

The following morning you stumbled upon a small box on the front steps of your cottage; adorned in navy wrapping paper and secured with a golden bow. A small note was attached along with a violet flower, its stem carrying bulb-like flower buds waiting to bloom and berries as black as the midnight sky. You recognized the plant as Nightshade. 

My Queen of Death,

 I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive my ignorance. I'm ashamed that I've allowed my jealousy to transpire into hurtful words. Words that no female should ever hear and I truly apologize for judging your actions when my own are not very admirable. I realize that actions speak louder than words and I aim to show you just how sorry I am.  

Yours, Azriel

A small smile pulled at your lips as you unraveled the bow and looked inside the box. Three jars of finely crushed herbs, each labeled individually accompanied by a beautifully crafted infuser were neatly placed within the box. Along with healing salves for your wounds, and seeds to grow your own Nightshade. 

“What is that Fawn?” you didn’t hear as Eris winnowed to the cottage, his glare immediately finding the gift box in your hands. You had two options: lie and say it's just tea from a merchant or tell the truth and enrage the future heir. You were no coward, “It’s contraceptive tea from The Night Court,” you declared with not a hint of hesitation. Eris clenched his hands in a fist, taming the lingering flame that threatened to burst free in his rage. His nostrils flared in distaste for your actions. You knew the plan was to pretend to marry Eris and produce an heir, granting his fathers wishes. Somewhere along the way those pretend lies blurred into truth, at least for Eris. 

“Who did you get the tea from?” he asked, deeply inhaling the air around him, scenting for another male. Thank the Gods you had glamoured your scent, “My friend gifted it to me.” 

“You don’t have friends, I need a name now!” He seethed, clenching his jaw in anger.

You scowled at him, turning your back to him with the gift in your hands, heading back into the cottage. When he suddenly reached over, snatching the note from your hand. 

“Hey!” 

“My Queen?” He questions, reading over the note in a mocking tone and a furrowed brow, “your Azriel?” Eris smugly chuckles, "My Gods he really does know how to work the females doesn’t he? He doesn’t want to be your friend Fawn, he just wants to fuck you. I bet that's the reason he got jealous wasn't it?” He states, crumbling the note in his fist and setting it on fire with his magic. When he opens his fist again a small amount of ash floats to the ground. 

Eris had done what he always does. Place doubt in your mind that no one would ever want you more than a fuck buddy and no one has ever been friends with a Death God. The others were locked away in the prison, the weavers cottage, and the lake. Soon enough the other High Lords would come to know of you and your powers and lock you away like the rest. 

“You're right, but I still want the tea.” 

Eris stalks closer, taking the gift from your hands, “I’ll get you some new tea. This one probably has sex pollen in it. You can never trust the males of The Night Court. I’ve already told you, they share their females. And you're too precious to share.” 

Eris throws the box over this shoulder, setting it aflame before it even hits the ground. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, walking you inside the cottage, “Mother requests you at the Forest House. She wants you to wear a dress to Helion's celebration.”

~~~~

Azriel thought about your last words to him and it hurt him to admit you were right. No one had ever loved him. At least not as deeply as your love for Lucien. He wondered what your love would feel like. Would it be as fierce as you were, with power surging through your veins? Were you a hopeless romantic where you’d hold his hand and kiss him in the middle of the street on the rainiest day of the year? With how he was acting, that idea seemed so far off. So far each encounter with you was met with his illyrian ways of being a territorial, possessive, jealous male. He was man enough to admit he was jealous, Lucien had a piece of your heart, if not now then before. He had no right to be jealous, he was sleeping with Elain afterall. A situation he needed to end once and for all.

His curiosity was heavy enough to seek out the male and question the depths of the relationship. Not long after he landed back in Velaris, he found himself knocking on Lucien's apartment door, hoping to catch up. 

Lucien opened the door and he immediately regretted it. He wasn’t exactly fond of the illyrian who had been sleeping with his mate. Knowing very well Azriel’s appetite for beautiful females. He’d figure once he grew bored of Elain he’d find another female to bed and another and another, leaving those poor females a shell of their former selves. Lucien had no patience for small talk and he wasn't exactly interested in what the shadowsinger had to say, “whatever it is, I don’t care.” Lucien moved to close the door in Azriel’s face, unamused with the sudden visit.

“Wait!” Azriel pleaded, hand splayed over the door that was about to close on him. “I’m not here to talk about Elain, I’m ending it with her today. I’m here to talk about Khaos.” Lucien sighed, letting the shadowsinger enter his apartment. “Is she safe?” Lucien's worried eyes scanned Azriel for any hint of deception. “Yeah, she's safe, I just wanted to know how she was with you and now Eris. More importantly, what happened between you two? ”

Azriel walked over to Lucien's couch, Mid bend to make himself comfortable, “don’t sit. I don’t plan to entertain you,” Lucien spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel let the weight of his body plop down on the couch, arms stretched wide across the back cushion. His unwavering stare indicating he would get the answers to his questions. Lucien gritted his teeth in annoyance, “ I’m not telling you shit. What happened between us, remains between us.” 

Azriel nodded, understanding his hesitancy to give any details regarding a former lover, “It’s just that I’d like to get to know her bett-”

“Haven’t you had your fill?" Lucien interrupted with a scowl, “must you take every female that I love?” He scoffed. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.” 

There it was, his opening. Exactly what he was hoping for. Azriel didn’t hesitate in prodding further. 

“If you loved her, why did you leave?” 

Lucien shook his head, running his hand through his long locks, “No, not past tense. I still do. I’ll always…” Lucien swallowed, he couldn’t finish that sentence, it hurt too much. Azriel narrowed his eyes, Gods, he still loved you he thought to himself. He knew his next words would reopen a healed wound, but he needed more.  “You love her so much you let Eris fuck her too.” Azriel internally flinched at how tasteless the statement was. 

Lucien winced at the Shadowsingers clear attempt to rile him up, those crude words grating against his heart, “Get out!” 

Azriel smirked and threw his mud covered boots on top of the coffee table, rattling the few cups that lingered. Crossing his legs at the ankle, “the faster you tell me what I want to know, the faster I'll leave.” 

Lucien rubbed the space between his brows and let out an annoyed groan. His gaze fixed on a burgundy cloak that was thrown over an armchair. A cloak that once belonged to you, after all these years he still held onto it. Lucien's eyes glazed over in sadness as he recalled the reason he left, “after my father wished for Eris to court her, I tried to take her away to The Spring Court so we could be together. I went to our friend Jesminda's house to say my goodbyes. She invited me in for cake and tea, one thing led to another and I made the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn't tell her, so I left for Spring alone. ”

“You cheated on her?” Azriel asked. 

Lucien nodded, clearing his throat from the knot of emotion that threatened to break free. 

“You’re a fucking coward,” Azriel glared as he stalked towards the door, “she thinks the world of you and you couldn’t even tell her of your betrayal.” 

He opened the door to the apartment, leaving Lucien to sulk in misery,

“You said I don't deserve her, but it’s you who doesn't deserve a place in her heart. I’ll make sure she knows of your cowardice and infidelity.” 

Azriel slammed the door behind him and as he walked away he heard the cries of a wounded fox, shattered to pieces by a guilty conscience.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in front of a full length mirror, its reflection one you didn't recognize. Your eyes lacked the stars that once circled your pupils, your once moon like orb was no longer crisp and bright. No longer did you look like a God that brought blood and gore to those who deserved a painful death. How did the Goddess of Life succumb to a female with nowhere to go but beside her betrothed. To obey his every wish with a smile on your face. Only speak when spoken to and never voice the thoughts that lingered beyond those of dresses and motherhood.

Was your life to be on your back while Eris spilled his seed inside you, producing heir after heir until your very womb decayed. “Aos? Which color would you like the dress?” you shook your head, riding yourself from your detached thoughts. You met the eyes of Auren through the mirror, a seamstress tasked with measuring you for Helion’s Celebration. “Blue would look lovely, Thank you Auren.” 

“The Prince is wearing a deep cadmium red, it be wise to match with the future heir.” Auren explained as she struggled to wrap the measuring tape around your waist, placing her finger against your body, noting the inch at which her finger fit snugly against your skin. “Make it a royal blue Auren, it reminds me of home.” 

Her heavy breathing took you out of your thoughts and your eyes widened at her swollen belly, the reason for her struggle to reach around you. “Oh Auren, I didn’t realize. It’s not polite to comment-” 

“It’s alright really, just got harder to bend and move,” she laughed, rubbing her round stomach soothingly. You beamed as she cradled the life that was growing inside her. A warmth so familiar bloomed inside you. You knew all too well the reason pregnancy was difficult in the fae lands, ever since you fell from the sky procreation had severely diminished. Not forgotten or misplaced just pointless in a cruel world. You couldn't say you had nothing to do with it, you had everything to do with creation. So it was quite a shock to see Auren pregnant, “a miracle really. Congratulations Auren, you make a wonderful mother.” 

“It’s always been a dream of mine. Thank the Gods for this fertility tea.” She took a sip from her cup and as she set it down you glanced inside, “whole nuts?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Mhmm, it tastes gritty when they’re crushed down to a powder.” She grimaced as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Gritty?”

Weekly dinners with the Vanserras, you were served tea.

It couldn’t be. 

It was.

You paled. 

~~~~~~~

At dinner everyone moved around you carrying their conversations like you weren’t slowly dying inside. Like you were invisible. You sat unmoving, hands clasped within your lap as you burned a hole into the mug that accompanied your dessert. How long had you been drinking that tea? How long were you going to pretend to be Eris' lover? How long were you going to put on this mask of compliance and docility, when in reality you could rip the flesh from their bones with a blink of an eye. Slaughter each and every member of the Vanserras without a single ounce of remorse.

The more you dwelled on it the more plausible it seemed. Yes, you’d remove them all at once with the snap of your finger. Each death exactly the same as the next, painful in the way they’ve caused pain to others. No, tortuous. Starting with the slow removal of each fingernail, pulled directly from the nailbed followed by severing each finger until nothing remained of their hands but a bloody useless paw. You wouldn't stop there. Next you’d remove their feet below the ankles, better yet, below the knee, so that to move they'd need to drag their meat sack of bones across all the painful textures of the land. Each and every pull against the earth would reopen thin healed skin, leaving trails of crimson blood mixed with pus and torn flesh.

The cries of a once feared family would bring their citizens out only to shriek, and gasp in horror at the sight of the disfigured thing. As a mercy you’d allow them to keep their eyes and ears so they’d hear each vulgar degradation aimed at how mutilated and disgusting they looked, visualize the moment they made someone so ill all that could be done was vomit the contents of their stomach. No one would pin it on Eris if he was among the deformed. Though you weren’t so cruel, they did help you somewhat. Provide you with shelter, food, all the means that you’ve needed to survive thus far. Asphyxiation would be painless, you smirked.

Eris placed a panicked hand to the base of his throat, glancing around the table at his family; he noticed their glossy widened eyes. Their mouths hung open in a silent scream, opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for a breath of air. Utensils clattered to the ground as Lord Beron attempted to stand only to stumble clenching the table cloth for fear of falling. Eris’ amber gaze landed on your morbid stare. Eyes cloudy and pale with the promise of death in their unfocused glare.

The room spun round and round although he remained seated, knuckles white from gripping the wooden table. He felt himself slowly losing consciousness, the lack of oxygen to his brain pulling him under, a swipe across his nose made him nearly pass out as he felt blood drip down, coating his lips. Eris chanced one last look into the soul of beautiful death and found your lifeless eyes already claiming his beating heart. 

With a last ditch effort to reclaim his soul he struggled through the pounding inside his head. Placing a trembling hand against your thigh, conjuring the remaining power he had into a lick of flame. Burning against your thigh brought your thoughts back to dinner. Those heterochromia eyes morphed into the vibrant colors of the galaxy with a single blink. The sharp inhale of air surrounded the table as your mind released them from the claws of death's grip. “Must be the tea,” you challenged, voice dripping with insolence as your cold eyes met those of Lord Beron. “We’ve been poisoned!” Eris's younger brother Janus reported, pouring out his cup of tea showcasing the darkened goop that splattered to the ground. Eris’ gaze traveled from the cup to you and back again. A look of shock and hurt in the way he studied your indifference. Once everyone cleared the dinner table, Lord Beron ordered the guards to sweep the halls for a breach and check the tea imports for tampering. 

~~~~~

You made your way to your bed chambers when a rough hand tightly gripped your arm; shoving you against the stone walls with enough force to knock the sense out of you. Lord Beron lowered his mouth to your ear so no one else could hear his vile words. “If I have to chain your legs apart and force him on you, so be it! But you will let Eris fuck a babe into your pathetic cunt!” He snarled, voice dripping with the rot that plagued his evil soul. You stared at the grip he had on your arm, a bruise in the shape of fingertips already forming around your bicep. 

“Threaten me all you want-"

The back of Lord Berons palm landed across your cheek with an audible slap, whipping your face so hard you stumbled to the floor. Your fingertips sparked with electric current, adrenaline running through you, tempting you to act, to destroy everyone that got in your way. And Lord Beron would be the first to witness your fury. Defiantly, you stood to meet his stare, chin held high with pride, “I bow to no High Lord.” 

Lord Beron didn’t bother to strike you as he signaled for a guard to escort you below. Where they kept their murderers, thieves, and those that needed a reminder of who their High Lord was. Lord Beron didn’t know how powerful you were since you kept most of your magic to yourself and those close to you, so it came as a shock when a stainless steel collar dipped in faebane was locked around your neck, made to look like a simple necklace with the only key belonging to High Lord Beron. 

You were dragged down the cold halls farther than you knew existed, down a spiral of stone steps, passed the cells that housed the criminals of Autumn and last through a hidden wall disguised as an unassuming bookcase. Your heart rate spiked as you realized this area was one you had never seen before and it worried you that maybe that was the point. You tried to summon your magic despite the collar releasing its poison onto your skin, but with nowhere to release the rage, the opposite happened. Your power turned to its host and acted like a sedative, pulling you into a sleep-like state. 

In your near-unconsciousness you didn’t feel the rough hands of a guard help himself to the curves of your body, groping your breasts and grabbing your ass before he kneeled at your feet, shackling your legs apart just as Lord Beron promised. The guards were instructed to not penetrate you but that didn’t stop them from standing around your cell to gawk and fist their needy cocks to the sight of your spread pussy. 

~~~~~~~~~

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as he entered his room. A welcoming comfort no one could grant him, except perhaps you. 

He neared his four poster bed, large enough for his wings and a lover or two. Just as he was about to throw himself onto its pillowy top a sweet scent engulfed him. Too sweet for his liking and definitely not your scent.  As he looked to the illuminated light escaping the bottom of the  bathing room; Elain emerged from a cloud of steam, casting her in a hazy glow. Azriels eyes trailed the length of her nude body, drops of water tracking down her thin legs.

Azriel couldn't deny what a beautiful female she was, both inside and out. He was lucky to have been with her no matter how short their fling was about to be. What Elain assumed was lust in Azriels eyes was actually reflection. Seeing her bare before him reminded him of what she offered time and time again. Her physical body. He knew that's not all she had to offer, deep down she had goals to be met and hobbies that he didn't understand, but physical intimacy is what she offered to him.

Azriel couldn't believe he had gotten to the point where sex was no longer enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all. He wanted that body, mind and spirit love. A soul connection so deep not even death would be able to pry his heart away. He felt it in his bones that that connection was not with Elain, so he’d decided now was as good a time as any, to let her go. 

Without another glance Azriel walked to his closet, which held an assortment of her clothes. He pulled out her favorite pink robe, and draped it over her shoulders. Elain took the hint and tied the robe around her body at the waist, covering her completely. The act alone brought her to tears as his rejection flooded her with shame and embarrassment. 

“Who is she?” Elain muttered, crossing her arms over her stomach in an attempt to hold herself together. Azriel shook his head, a soft sigh leaving his lips. 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

“No. I wouldn't do that to her - to you,” he shook his head, “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Do you want to sleep with her?” Elain asked with a wobble in her throat, not sure if she could handle his answer. 

Azriel turned his back on Elain and placed his hands on his hips. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he hung his head. Yes, he did want to bed you, but more than anything he wanted to hear the sound of your soft breathing as you slept nestled against his chest. He wanted to trace the beauty marks along your back and see how many constellations adorned your soft skin. 

“Azriel!” 

“Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear? He snapped.

“NO! I want to hear that you love me, not that you want to fuck someone else!” Elain sobbed, her tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “It’s her isn't it? The one you’ve been looking for all these years? The female you said I shouldn't worry about?” Elain continued to wipe away her tears. 

“I never meant to hurt you, and for that I’m sorry. If there's a chance that she’s who's destined for me then I have to explore that. You know how much I want what my brothers have, that special someone made for me!” Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his wavy hair. 

“I thought I was made for you Az?” 

A scoff leaves Azriels lips, “you were made for Lucien, he's your mate Elain, not me.” 

Elains stunned silent. The truth of his words piercing her fragile heart, “but I chose you.” 

“And I’m choosing her.” 

“Azriel, she's a Death God,” she pleads, kneeling in front of him with her hands on his knees, “she’s threatened Velaris and Rhys hates her. You met her one time as a child. You don’t know her!” she yelled, hurt laced in her words as she tried to make sense of his actions.

“I want to get to know her!” Azriel yelled back, standing abruptly from his position on the bed, making Elain stumble slightly, catching herself with her palms on the floor. 

“I’m sorry, this thing between us. It was never –”

Azriels shadows interrupt him as they swarm the room, darting erratically from side to side in alarm. Goosebumps form along his arms as they whisper in his ear, ‘In trouble, hurry.’ Azriel didn't need to ask who was in trouble. Somehow he could feel your despair in the pit of his stomach. You needed him and he would go to you. However far you were, he would walk miles to reach you, fly through the toughest storms to be by your side. Risk his own life if it meant you’d survive to see another day. Without another word he raced out of the house, leaving a broken hearted Elain to pick up the pieces of her fractured heart. He couldn’t be there for her any longer, not when his heart was calling out for you. 

A/n:  I’ve had a crazy week with my daughter being sick and planning her birthday party. I expect the next ch to take me some time. As always thank you so much for reading and for your sweet comments.  

Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit @dr4g0ngirl @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @julesofvolterra @scooobies @thisblogisaboutabook @lilah-asteria @glitterypirateduck @acourtofbatboydreams @5onedirection5

[moistvonlipwig]

reverse unpopular opinion: xander harris

lol i literally sent someone else this very question today!! great minds think alike...

first of all i must remark upon this boy's fashion sense. it is unparalleled. i unironically love his fits. my 2 faves are his "earshot" fit with the christmas-colored shirt and his "i <3 dirt" shirt which is simply excellent beyond measure.

secondly i will say that, while xander can certainly be a jerk, he also does demonstrate growth and the ability to recognize his behavior and try to do better and make up for his mistakes. in "prophecy girl" he reaches out to angel for help to save buffy even though he's still in the midst of a jealous snit about buffy liking angel more. in "amends" he shows up to help buffy and giles figure out what's wrong with angel because he acknowledges he's been unfair to buffy about angel. in "the prom" he buys cordelia's dress for her (which is not a minor thing given his financial situation) without expectation that she will dance with him or go to prom with him because he is able to overcome his bitterness about her not forgiving him to see that she's a human person who has been hurting for some time. in "seeing red" he acknowledges that buffy had good reasons to not come to him about spike and says that he wants to be a better friend to her. and in s7 he is actually very non-judgmental about spike & her relationship with him, and in general is very supportive. granted in s7 he does not get much screentime lol. but still.

thirdly, although the theme of this ask meme is 'reverse unpopular opinions', i am going to take an unpopular stance and defend the Lie. i certainly understand why people take umbrage with xander, a boy who has repeatedly made sexist comments and shown jealousy over buffy preferring angel to him, deciding that buffy cannot be trusted with the knowledge that willow is trying to return angel's soul to him and telling her that willow simply told her to kick his ass instead. i don't think it's the best or most selfless or most morally correct decision ever, and there is an undertone of sexism and possessiveness in the decision to withhold this information from her.

HOWEVER. if buffy DOES falter in her fight against angel. and i cannot stress this enough. literally the entire world goes to hell. and honestly, as much as we the audience sympathize with buffy's emotional struggle to kill angel, the reality is that she has not yet demonstrated that she can. for all that xander's Lie comes across to many as paternalistic and condescending in its assumption that she would hold back and endanger the world if she knew willow was trying to save him, the truth is that xander has good reasons, based in experience and buffy's past actions, to make this assumption. i also just frankly think that the Lie did not change the outcome of the buffy/angel fight for the worse; it either did not change the outcome at all, or xander was right and it helped buffy cement her decision to fight angel as hard as she could.

now that said i do think the Lie made it much harder for buffy emotionally to kill angel since she was not prepared for his soul to return, and i do think it probably contributed to her leaving town because she felt like her friends were all pro-killing angel and wouldn't sympathize with her. and also just in general it's not super kosher to lie to your friends about what your other friends said! so i'm not saying it was a good or heroic thing. but i do think it's not nearly as bad as people make it out to be. and the writers bringing it up in 7x05 (a full 4 years later) to make xander look worse in an argument where he is 100% correct was pure ridiculous nonsense.

fourthly i think his struggle with his abusive father, and particularly his fear of becoming his abusive father, is very sad and poignant. his dream in "restless" is maybe my favorite; the way he keeps ending up back in his parents' basement no matter where he turns, with his father at the top of the stairs looming threateningly over him, is so. raaaagh. can we get him out of there!!! and i think of all his missteps, his choice in "hell's bells" is by far the most sympathetic, because they do a really fantastic job of showing us just how deep-seated his fear of turning into his father is. (and unfortunately, "entropy" demonstrates that this fear is not entirely baseless.) the fact that he ends up hurting anya so profoundly anyway in his quest to not hurt her is also deeply sad and speaks to the cycle he's trapped in and how difficult it is for him to get out of it.

fifthly he is extremely brave. he challenges angel to his face in "killed by death." he plays a game of chicken with a zombie who wants to blow up the school in "the zeppo" and he wins. he stands in between willow and the statue she needs to destroy the world and fully invites her to kill him, just to show her he's there for her. xander claims in s1 that he "laugh[s] in the face of danger" and then "hide[s] until it goes away" but in actuality he is one of the consistently bravest characters in the buffyverse.

sixthly he did NOT mooch off buffy in s6. that man was EMPLOYED and he did his best to help her, with getting discounts for her through his connections to plumbers, etc. the same cannot be said for everyone that season !

lastly i admire his commitment to being a hater. like in that one episode where he's at the bronze complaining about angel like "angel, angel, angel! why is everyone always talking about that FREAK who i HATE" and then angel shows up behind his shoulder and clearly heard him and xander says, completely confidently, "hey man :)" with absolutely no shame. i love angel but one must respect a committed hater and xander's haterism is unparalleled. just like his love of dirt <3

[hunieday]

Isumi Haruka Rabbitube Mini - Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Isumi Haruka: Thanks for your hard work. do you have free time rn? (1)

Isumi Haruka: Right now*?

Momo: I do have time rn

Momo: Right now*! ;P

Izumi Mitsuki: Same, I’m free rn

Izumi Mitsuki: Right now*! 😆

Isumi Haruka: Sorry, I accidentally sent the predicted text...

Momo: Don't worry about it at all! I thought maybe Harukacchi felt comfortable with us, so I was actually happy 🥺

Izumi Mitsuki: Me too! I felt like I was talking to Tamaki, feel free to be casual! 😆👍

Isumi Haruka: As if I were talking to Yotsuba!? lol

Isumi Haruka: No, that would be dangerous,  we always talk about who's gonna treat the other 💦

Momo: Sounds fun~~~~~~ I wanna go back to high school and play rock-paper-scissors to decide who buys juice at the store ‼‼😭.

Izumi Mitsuki: I know right! Then go buy sweet red-bean soup and play tricks on each other! 🤩

Isumi Haruka: Sounds like you guys were really enjoying your time

Isumi Haruka: Um, onto the main question! Please let me conduct a survey on what would be good for next week's Rabbimini after-party!

Isumi Haruka:

1. visiting a ramen shop 

2. Panda-man taste testing

3- Divination

4- All-you-can-eat dim sum brunch

Izumi Mitsuki: Ooh~~!!

Izumi Mitsuki: You really thought this through! Thanks 😭 well, we still haven’t decided on anything yet!

Momo: Let's go to aaaall of them!! your big brother here will treat you guys to everything 😭‼

Isumi Haruka: Nah if we go to all of them our stomachs will be too bloated lol

Isumi Haruka: I wanted to do something for you two since you guys took me out for yakiniku after the shoot

Momo:Isn’t he so admirable? ol’ friend Mitsuki-san…

Izumi Mitsuki: What a lovable boy, ol’ friend Momo-san… (2)

Isumi Haruka: You're becoming grandpas lol

Momo:

Izumi Mitsuki: 

Izumi Mitsuki: Alright then, do you have any recommendations among these choices?

Isumi Haruka: Erm...

Isumi Haruka: Panda-man. They look cute and I think it’d be fun

Isumi Haruka: I know it’s somewhat childish but...

Momo: It’s fine, I wanna chomp chomp it!! It's cute like Momo-chan, right!? 😍💕

Izumi Mitsuki: I might have seen it featured on TV! 😆 They have different panda faces on them right?

Isumi Haruka: 😉🥺😤

Isumi Haruka: ↑ Yeah! Like these

Isumi Haruka: People take pics of themselves making the same face as Panda man as a trend

Momo: Oh no we totally have to do a photoshoot too 🫰

Izumi Mitsuki: Now you sound like a gyaru lol

Momo: But it's been a while, so teach us how to take photos 🥺 waaggghhh

Isumi Haruka: I'll definitely teach you everything 🫰

Izumi Mitsuki: By the way, there's a photo of the three of you in our fridge! The one you, Iori and Tamaki took together 😆.

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? The fridge!?

Isumi Haruka: At the IDOLiSH7 dorm!?

Izumi Mitsuki: That's right! lolol you took it to commemorate getting a large king pudding stuffed plushie right?

Momo: Wait a minute!! You’re telling me you can see that incredibly cute picture if you go to the IDOLiSH7 dorm ⁉

Izumi Mitsuki: You sure can 👍

Momo: We'll bring a hot pot set and come visit you.

Izumi Mitsuki: We'll be waiting 👍

Isumi Haruka: Please stop, it's embarrassing lololol

Isumi Haruka: But I wonder if Izumi got mad when you stuck it there?

Isumi Haruka: Ah, I mean the little brother! Iori-kun

Izumi Mitsuki: It's confusing since we're both Izumi! 😂 

Izumi Mitsuki: He was a bit nervous about it, but Tamaki told us that you three worked really hard together to get that stuffed plushie, so he was really happy and wanted to stick it everywhere!

Izumi Mitsuki: He couldn't help but forgive him when he heard that ✨

Momo: That's so precious... I'll bring beer in bulk on top of that hot pot set.

Izumi Mitsuki: Thank you!? lololol

Isumi Haruka:

Isumi Haruka: 

Momo: Haruka sounds embarrassed! so cute (*σ･ω･｡)σ

Izumi Mitsuki: This is youth :pudding cheer:

Isumi Haruka: I'm not embarrassed!!!

Momo: What other poses do you usually strike? (*σ･ω･｡)σ

Isumi Haruka: Well, since Izumi doesn't pose so much, Yotsuba and I go extra to make it more exciting, or something...?

Izumi Mitsuki: more exciting lolol thank you!!

Iori smiles when he looks at the picture in the fridge, so I’m truly happy!

Isumi Haruka: Is that so

Isumi Haruka: Yotsuba said he's gonna be fine, but there were times when I wondered if I was pushing him too hard. I'm glad!

Momo: Mitsuki,,,,, I think I'm going to cry,,,,,,

Izumi Mitsuki: Me too,,,,, the big bro in me is so happy,,,,,

Isumi Haruka: p-please don't cry!!

Momo: 

Isumi Haruka: I wanna take a picture with a pose that only three people can pull off! What do you think 😳

Izumi Mitsuki: Sounds good! I think we should pose like we did in Rabbimini, right?

Isumi Haruka: Maybe we could clasp our hands together in front of our chests and strike a kung fu pose? Like what we did at the start of Rabbimini! 🙏

Izumi Mitsuki: That's a good idea! I practiced a lot while watching videos! 😆

Momo: You could doodle something cute like ramen, that’d be adorable!! 😆💕

Isumi Haruka: I'll draw a panda too 🐼

Momo: That's the best!! What will you draw, Mitsuki!?

Izumi Mitsuki: Uh, something related to Rabbimini !? let me think

Izumi Mitsuki: A colander,,,?

Momo: a colander lololololololololol

Isumi Haruka: lolololololol

Izumi Mitsuki: I'll practice drawing it lololol

Momo: looking forward to seeing the result of your practice lolol

Momo: Momo-chan and Mitsuki are gonna drive and pick you up from school on the day of the shoot! ✨

Izumi Mitsuki: I’ll rabbitchat you when we get there! 😆

Isumi Haruka: You were serious about that?!?!

Isumi Haruka: I'm happy, but I think Izumi and Yotsuba will get jealous lol 🫣 🫣

Momo: I was serious about it, Harukacchi…!!

Izumi Mitsuki: They’ll definitely be jealous, so I’m gonna spoil them by making their favorite things before and after the outing 🥹 I'm sure both of them will understand that it’s to celebrate your hard work at the shooting!

Isumi Harukai: Um, just to be clear, please be careful not to stand out! Yotsuba told me that when Momo-san came the other day, the whole school was talking about it!

Momo: no way...!! I'm gonna park a little further away from the school so I won’t bother anyone.

Izumi Mitsuki: Let's put on a disguise so that we don't stand out!

Momo: 

Izumi Mitsuki: 

Isumi Haruka: I'm getting really excited for some reason..!

Momo: I'm glad! After the shoot, let's go to the arcade together when we’re less busy >u< I like that one game! The one where you kill zombies!

Isumi Haruka: Isn’t it great?

Isumi Haruka: I compete with Yotsuba in the high score board, so I'm good at it!

Momo: Huh that’s cool!! Haruka can really do anything >u<

Isumi Haruka: Hehehe

Mitsuki-san, is there something you’d like to do if we go together?

Izumi Mitsuki: Ah! Then, the crane game! I know a guy who’s gonna be over the moon if he gets a Kokona-chan or something 😆 you'll have to teach me all the tricks!

Isumi Haruka: Yes!! I'll take care of it 🙌

Momo: Then Mitsuki, give me tips on how to draw a colander ;P✨

Izumi Mitsuki: I don’t think there are any tricks to that lololol i’ll think about it lolol

Isumi Haruka: lolololol

In the original text, Haruka sends a casual text to the group chat, then corrects his tone by adding “ですか” (desu ka) in a separate message. Momo and mitsuki tease him about it by sending casual messages then following it up with “ですか”. This kind of polite speech doesn’t exist in English, so this was the closest way to convey the OG conversation’s tone

This is another joke that can’t be properly conveyed in English without further context, Momo and Mitsuki start adding “や” (ya) at the end of their messages which is a form of speech under a style called “yakuwarigo”, used in manga/anime (amongst other forms of media) to indicate age. The “ya” in this case is added to elderly characters’ speech, hence why I chose to add the “ol’ man” so that Haruka’s comment makes sense.

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] Hari Easter 4* Card Story

do I need to put a cw for necrophilia implications?? LOL (note: Team C’s show is based on the nursery rhyme ‘Who Killed Cock Robin?’ by Mother Goose but it has been changed to be a story about humans, Hari’s role ‘Kaito’ is the kite, ‘Mei’ is the heroine/audience and she is the cock robin, ‘Sienna’ is who kills her.)

chapter 1 -break room-

hari: ……… (deep in thought)

hari: …No, doing it this way is still no good.

saki: (Maybe I shouldn’t bother him.)

hari: Oh, Saki-san. Sorry for standing in the way, would you like to use the vending machine? 

saki: Ah! No, that’s not… I’m sorry for interrupting you.

hari: Interrupting me? In what way?

saki: Um, it looked like you were really thinking something over, that’s all.

hari: Oh, I’m sorry it appears I’ve caused a misunderstanding. Was I wearing a troubled expression? If so, don’t worry as that’s not the case. Our rehearsal just ended so I was cooling off and rearranging my thoughts.

It’s the funeral scene in particular that I’m stuck on. No matter what I do I can’t seem to make it flow well… After I carry Mei’s coffin to her grave site, how am I supposed to monologue about my feelings to the audience? Wouldn’t I just be forcing my own interpretation onto those watching?

saki: What do you think would improve the flow of the dialogue, Hari-san?

hari: I want to express my feelings towards Mei in the scene before the one where I carry her coffin. I want to reveal my feelings to Mei and Mei alone. Whilst no one else can overhear.

saki: I see, it is a very personal moment after all.

hari: After I proposed to make the scene this way the team fell into a bit of a heated discussion… Rehearsal ended without us coming to a resolution and so I’ve been left to think it over myself. My suggestion aside, it wasn’t productive to stop the run through of the show in that way. Getting all worked up like this isn’t like me, it’s not a mistake I usually make.

saki: I can tell that you’d just like to make the show the best it can be though.

hari: …Thank you. The reason I came to this store is because I wanted to experience all sorts of new things. I thought that they would become a good foundation for my improvement. However, now I simply enjoy facing the shows head on.

saki: I think that’s wonderful.

hari: I agree. I feel as though I’ve discovered a new side to myself. However there’s no point in having ones emotions take the forefront when the direction and expression of the scene aren’t there to back up the moment. I need to grasp this opportunity and make it my own. That way I can show it to you on the stage.

-

chapter 2 -starless stage-

hari: “The funeral proceedings are over, I shall carry her coffin to the cemetery.”

saki: (Kaito is going to carry Mei’s coffin… It’s the scene that Hari-san was talking about the other day.)

hari: “I wanted to see you one last time, as you sleep soundlessly inside your coffin. Mei… Do you really forgive Sienna? Was it really your wish to die by his hand? Even if you do forgive him, I simply cannot. I wanted you to live on, in whatever form that may have been. So please take your answer with you high into the sky, into the heavens above…”

“Let us go now, Mei. I’ll be the only one who lays a finger on your coffin. —Ah, my dear Mei. Like this we’re finally alone together, aren’t we? Just the the two of us.”

-time pass, after show, backstage-

hari: You came to watch the show, Saki-san. As you saw I did end up changing the order of the scenes a little. If the bird that carries the coffin is a black kite, then I think this direction fits perfectly.

saki: What do you mean?

hari: It’s because black kite’s are known to be scavengers. Mei had a mysterious illness which caused her body to decay and rot away over time, and even after death her corpse will continue to do so. This time, after the funeral Kaito accepts Mei’s coffin and carries it whilst being ‘alone together’ with her. It poses the question, was Mei still inside that coffin by the time he delivered it to the cemetery?

saki: That’s…

hari: Of course, its fine to imagine that she is still there peacefully sleeping in her coffin too. Throughout the run of the show my interpretation of the anger that I feel towards Sienna gradually changed too.

To be honest, at first I never imagined I’d be able to come up with an idea like this. Perhaps its because of the experience I’ve gained performing so many shows here at Starless, or perhaps… These sorts of feelings had already been residing deep within my heart. The feeling of not wanting to hand the person that you love over to anyone else. That’s the emotion I had been trying to grasp.

—end

[27goldensun]

My thoughts on AOTV (Part 1 - Babygate)

I am dividing my thoughts on the film otherwise the post would be to long and confusing

I think that most people have now watched or heard about the scenes with Freddie so I will avoid describing them and will give my opinions

1. Putting shoes and jacket

The first time Freddie appears in the doc starts with Louis helping him put on his jacket and shoes.

That to me was super funny actually because my experience with the young kids in my family is that they absolutely hate getting help when getting dressed, they always want to be independent LOL

Freddie didn’t seem exactly comfortable in this part, and Louis’ apartment didn’t look like he spend too much time there nor that a kid lived there for some time

2. Walking the same way with stuff swinging

As they leave the building Freddie is carrying his Switch and sort of swinging it. Louis, who was previously not carrying anything, gets some sort of plastic bag, looks at Freddie and literally mirrors his pose

This had everyone swooning in the theater because “they look just the same” (it was so forced I laughed and had to cough to cover it up LOL)

3. The beach scene

This has been discussed in detail, but I just though it was funny how Oli was there the entire time (in the flat also) and how Freddie kept looking at the camera

They actually play rock paper scissors out of the blue?! I told my dad that and he laughed so much, it just isn’t something we’d ever do and my goddaughter would laugh at me if I suggested this game

4. The LA show scenes

Again, this scenes have been discussed by everyone, so I’m just adding my two cents.

Freddie doesn’t initiate any contact with Louis, the one part he seems excited is when he describes jumping with his sign and when he is playing with Jackson (Harry’s godson)

Louis is very tactile with Freddie and appears to treat him like “one of the lads”, just generally roughhousing the kid (like, he actually poked Freddie’s eyes) which didn’t really align with what Louis’ sisters described him as (very protective and all) but could be just how I perceive (although if we compare it to say, Louis with baby Lux, it just very different)

He doesn’t leave with Freddie and tells him to be good on his way home

Louis gets emotional when seeing Freddie in the audience and drops some line of “there where 6k people but I only had eyes for you”

A part that I think was really funny was when he pointed at F, because if you watched the live for this show you’ll remember he pointed once, talked to Charlie and probably realized the video wasn’t good than pointed again to make sure it was filmed (very organic)

Not once does Freddie call him dad, but “his” sign says “go dad”

They did record Freddie singing Two of Us and he kept checking the camera during it

5. The grandfather

Louis grandpa talks about how they are “literal copies of each other”

This part was professionally filmed and during the same day they talk about Jay and how hard her loss impacted louis

During the sections that seem to be home videos, Freddie isn’t really mentioned

6. My general thoughts

They once more reinforced the “carbon copy” narrative, which is really funny when knowing how much like Bret the kid looks

I realized that, while they tried to make it clear that while Louis does see the kid, he doesn’t have any type of custody (talking about F going home and the apartment not looking very child-inhabited)

Do I think that Freddie knows louis or spends more time with him than we know of? Not actually, he seemed to know who Louis is, obviously, but didn’t have any greater familiarity like you’d expect, and seemed to lean away from Louis at times

Not once were Louis and Freddie alone (even just them and the cameras), so Oli is as much a father to him as Louis

The bbg parts really do feel like an attempt at gaslighting the fandom, so I wasn’t happy about them, but let me know what you all thought of it please (also please forgive any mistakes, I’m still a bit sleepy LOL)

I’m finishing up a timeline regarding louis bs of spending “3 weeks or a month” with the kid, since he would have had to mastered the ability to be in two places at once (you don’t really get to lie about where you have been when not only your location but the child’s has been plastered all over the internet daily)

[lungfuls]

made the mistake of reading replies on drake's twitter. the video where he kisses the 17 y/o and comments on her breasts he was 22 and people are saying that's the same maturity level, the age of consent in canada is 16, the age of consent in colorado (where it happened) is 17, etc. i hate how incapable of nuance people are when talking about this. i have to rant because i'm upset lol

look back on when you were 17. would you or would you not have been flattered if a 22 or 23 y/o was attracted to you? i actually was in a relationship with that exact gap at that age. i do not think i ever would have entered that relationship if i had not been flattered by his attention.

our maturity gap was definitely way less significant than with the 32 y/o i started seeing at age 19, not least of all because i, personally, hadn't attended school since age 15 and had generally been through some more "adult" experiences while he had only slept with one other person before. that didn't change the fact that at 22/23, he had lived in the largest city in america, sans parental support, for 4 years and had a wealth of experiences that equipped him for life in a way that, looking back, i see i couldn't even comprehend. this was generally one of my healthier relationships, but i can see in the rearview mirror that when the relationship was unhealthy, it was due to the maturity gap. (and it was not a "healthy" relationship.)

if you're 22/23 or older, envision a 17 y/o. maybe you have worked with a teenager in food service or retail, maybe you live near a high school and see teens around often. envision those people! did or do you genuinely see them as on equal footing with you physically and mentally? can you imagine being attracted to them? i hope not. i take back the shit i said about never being certain about anything bc i am certain that no 17 y/o actually carries themselves in a way so as to present like an adult

age of consent laws don't reflect this/the actual morality of the situation and are generally designed to be relatively forgiving (of offending adults). our society doesn't value the wellness of minors. shocking! you shouldn't base personal ethics on national or state laws. shocking!

it's true that from a biological and psychological perspective, both a 17 y/o and 22 or 23 y/o are "young adults." i think i recently saw a post saying that the "your brain isn't fully developed until 25" thing is a myth, which is incorrect. your prefrontal cortex finishes developing around age 25, ending "adolescence." but biopsychological markers aren't the only relevant factors here :)

our society (the u.s.) is constructed in such a way that very different activities and preferences are expected of and inherent to someone in their late teens vs. someone in their early 20s. said constructs include but aren't limited to the age of majority (18), college (usually 18–22, with a distinctive shift toward more complex studies around age 21), the drinking age (21), etc. these constructs aren't identical across all western cultures (the only ones i feel entitled to make conclusive statements about) but do mostly culminate in a separation of ppl in their late teens and early 20s.

also, it's not like you enter adolescence with your prefrontal cortex at one stage of development and it stays like that until it magically matures at age 25. it's a process, and someone in their 20s is more mature than someone in their teens. period.

actually, it's shown that "adult" experiences during adolescence impede development/maturation, not speed it up. this is relevant because people in their 20s who are interested in teens often point out that those teens are more mature than others due to their experiences with sex, drug use, etc. in fact, they are less capable of sound decision-making than other teens. huh!

it's fucking weird for a person in their 20s, especially someone whose social circle is on the other side of college and other definitive early 20s experiences, to be into teenagers! period. sorry.

re: the drake incident in particular, he was also in a position of power over the girl, being that she was a fan of his very, very popular music. like, to say it wasn't super fucking odd of him is just creepy! he, himself, says in the video that he would "get in trouble" for it or something like that. he obviously doesn't gaf about not only consent laws, but the maturity and power differentials that contemporary/progressive thought bases distaste for relationships between adults and minors on.

ppl bring up that the girl, now 31, has brushed the incident off. duh! she was 17 and a famous rapper was attracted to her. it was a passing moment between two strangers, she's not a "victim." people are using the video to point out that drake has been into teens this whole time. we don't know if he has victims. also, the # of people who think victimhood is defined by whether or not someone identifies with it is extremely concerning.

in general, i really wish people would think more critically about this topic. i'm lucky in that i had experiences that sort of enlightened me as to why this sort of thing is wrong/harmful to developing young people, but it really fucking sucks that i have to constantly read ppl who don't have the first idea of what going through a relationship with a power/maturity differential, or this particular power differential, is like talk about it like ppl who are against it are being dramatic. it is legitimately hurtful to me. psychic damage. i don't imagine i'm the only one. like. can y'all shut the fuck up? 😭

[pleasantspark]

Strictly Business - Chapter Two (Clarity) King Cold x Sayian! OC Genre: Romance Tropes: Part of The Strictly Business Series Warnings: Did not proof read so mistakes were made, most mistakes because I didn't sleep at the time of writing it, I literally am rushing through this because I was inspired, Hey getting inspired at 4AM does something, im gonna go to bed dnd is on see you in the morning lol. AUs Utilized: Overhaul Frieza Race Overhaul Doc Used! Please check for it here: x

The arrival of Frieza was enough to make Orion's head spin, she's been caught up with King Cold doing business that she didn't expect for Frieza to come. She looked at King Cold and bowed.

"Should I-"

"He thinks your busy my Dear, why would I ask my servant to tell him that your busy, just for you to come out?"

Orion bit her lip and looked away. The obvious class and height difference making for some awkward sexual tension. Despite what had taken place prior. She fumbled with her fingers.

"I can just tell, Lord Frieza we ONLY just wrapped up the meeting and it would be rather stupid of me to go over the time limit wouldn't you think?"

King Cold sighed, and leaned back in his throne. "Very well then. But don't expect me to be this forgiving. I'd expect you to at least visit me once and awhile, fufill that little favor every once and awhile."

Orion sighed, and nodded. "Yes King Cold."

The walk of shame down the halls of King Cold's ship was tough, especially when she bumped into Cooler...

More accurately, the run of shame. She was running out the room like she saw something she shouldn't have. Which she kind of did, but not really. Banging your boss' father isn't a tough feat to just shake off.

Granted, it wasn't banging... But eh? As she bumped into King Cold's eldest. She gasped and helped him up.

"I apologize, Sir!" She apologized profusely. Cooler chuckled.

"Ah, it is okay. Nothing's damaged, why were you running from my fathers room. If you mind me asking?" Cooler asked.

"Ah, nothing important. Just had to run to an errand." Orion attempted to lie. Cooler hummed as if to accept the lie before shaking his head.

"Oh, is that so? Why is it, I smell my father on you, hm?" Cooler probed. At that question Orion's face flushed.

"It's none of your business. I just got too close when discussing the plans with him." She defends, albeit poorly.

"Mhm, you know. You don't have to lie to me." Cooler said.

"I am NOT lying! I... I wouldn't have a reason to! We took too long for a meeting and now I went over the... allotted time, and if you excuse me, I have to see Lord Frieza." Orion said, pushing past Cooler who just chuckled and watched her ran off.

"I'm sure you do, Little Saiyan... I'm sure there was nothing between father and you, and when I find out I'm going to tell Frieza."

Frieza was impatiently tapping his foot on the floor waiting for that stupid Monkey to arrive already. He was just recently notified by his father's servant on Orion being busy. He found it completely odd how she was busy even though the meeting should be short.

He sighed at the docking bays of the ship he once called home, before hearing the footsteps of Orion, he tried to place on a mask of happiness to hide the fact he was annoyed but ultimately failed.

"You... were awfully late." He managed to get out. Orion shook her head.

"Apologies my lord, the meeting ran over it's time..." Orion apologized. Frieza scoffed.

"Your lucky I didn't kill you myself for making me wait." Frieza said coldly. Orion placed her head down in shame.

"I am sorry My Lord, it won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't. It was oddly suspicious how father had you back there for too long on a meeting that should only be around 4-5 minutes long. It wasn't even that important." Frieza thought.

It was no secret Frieza had a crush-

Or it was a secret.

Frieza had hated Saiyans for as long as he lived, and nothing would ever change that. But for some odd reason he couldn't explain he fell for a Saiyan.

He at first tried to explain it away as his hatred for them being mistaken as love. But it gradually became reality to him once he figured out he hated other men with or near her.

Even sending her to his father was enough to make the male acrosian angered. Perhaps it's the real reason why he was annoyed and slightly angered by her lateness.

"Whatever. Let's go back." Frieza would just say in response to Orion, leading her to their own pods as they drove off.

<Last Chapter >Next Chapter

[harmoniesandhijinks]

"Hey, look at this weird kid I found!"

-- one of the twins, probably Heya! Welcome to whatever this is, lol If you know me, then you're either someone who checked puyo tumblr a lot during 2018-2023, or one of my followers/friends on my main [in which case, hii!! hello!!! The voices won.] In any case, welcome one, welcome all! I'm Phione, aka the person running this blog, aka a clinically insane professional dummy, aka one of the few HarmoKnight fans that exist, aka--ok you get the jist. I have roleplayed on Tumblr before, but that was a LONG while ago, so i might be a little rusty on this! [im more used to discord tupperbox roleplays,,,] So apologies if I make any mistakes! If you're interested in interacting, check out the read more below!

In any cases, here's the rules! 1. No NSFW interactions or ANYTHING of the sort. While I may be 18 now, the Twins and Tempo are minors. Plus, that sort of stuff creeps me out and makes me VERY uncomfortable! So please refrain from doing that! 2. No fetish interactions. I'm not someone who you can push your weird fantasies upon. Plus, I had to cut ties with someone earlier in the year who would do just that, so stuff like that will make me uncomfortable. 2.5. However, I WILL allow magic anons, as those tend to be fairly harmless. Just not too many at once! [or back to back] 3. Please don't send any kind of slurs! I'm sure both Puyo fandom and HarmoKnight fandom are smart enough to not do that, but I'm putting that out there! 4. I have the right to say no to what's going on. If I ask you to stop, I mean it! And if I say no to an ask or rp, PLEASE don't push me to do it! 5. More rules will be added when I think of em. So be sure to check back here regularly! 6. Any violation of these rules will result in a block if taken too far. [However, violating rules 1 and 2 will result in an instant block.] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Some Misc. stuff: Please don't be nervous to send an ask or RP invite into my dms! As long as you use common sense, you'll be fine :D I tend to be a little silly sometimes, so do expect some laughs and giggles here and there! I also tend to get nervous really easy however, so if you want to do something with me, please come to me and ask about it! I'm TOTALLY fine with mutliverse RPs! I mean, that was kinda obvious since this is literally an RP/Ask blog with two different games, lol. So long as the source material isn't anything bad [COUGH COUGH coaall COUGH COGUH] we should be fine! I am aware that there is another puyo ask/rp blog that technically also as the twins, and to that I don't mind! Unless it makes the op of that blog very upset in which case I'm really sorry. I don't mind doubles, but if it makes the OP of the other blog upset then I'll stop. Totally fine with AU roleplays though! As long as the origin of the AU isn't from a problematic source, then it's a-okay!

Socials!!! @phioneplatinum - Main, check it out if you wanna see what I do on a regular basis! @melodiafunfacts - A HarmoKnight fun facts blog I run! Check it out if you wanna see what obscure facts I can dig up from an even obscurer game! phioneplatinum - Discord tag if you wanna be friendos! [Or see my full power with Tupper Rps, lol] I'm not quite caught up on the more recent internet stuff [ex: pronouns, fictionkins, stuff like that], so PLEASE forgive me if I make a mistake!! Speaking of pronouns, I go with She/Her pronouns! I see Elle with She/Her pronouns, but if you want to go with They/Them, be my guest! I see Jay with He/Him pronouns, but if you want to go with They/Them like Elle, go ahead! Tempo goes with He/Him pronouns, for those unaware about HarmoKnight! [and also thought he was a girl] Annnd I think that's it! I hope to see you around! Stay safe! :D [I'll probably make a caard with character bios and rp info, so be on the lookout for that!! :D]

[note, i tend to shorten harmoknight as rhhk [Rhythm Hunter: HarmoKnight] as to not confuse it with HK/Hollow Knight, so if you see those four letters, assume i'm talking about HarmoKnight!! :D]

[valeriianz]

10 fandoms / 10 characters / 10 tags

tagged by @virgo-dream and @seiya-starsniper, thank you! this took me a while... the way my hyperfixations work is, i'll completely devote myself to a piece of media for a time... then once i find something else i move on almost entirely lol. i of course still have a very soft spot for the shows/video games listed here (as well as my blorbos, such as they are) but the only fandom im currently active in is, of course, Sandman.

1: Levi Ackerman - Attack on Titan

I am in a love/hate relationship with AoT lmao (and some day i WILL finish the final season) but nothing, not even fandom war, will ever change my love for Levi. I'm obsessed with his backstory, how he came into the Survey Corps, and how it all sheds light on the decisions he makes and the tragedies he suffered through. I was fascinated by him since S1 and after the No Regrets manga came out, I was done for. He has been through so much and despite how cruel and unforgiving he seems, he actually has the biggest heart and-- guh I just love him. He deserves the world ;^;

2: Zuko - Avatar the Last Airbender

Truly was torn between Zuko or Katara... but I have always had mad respect for Zuko's redemption arc and how brilliantly it was written. I love how it takes a full season and a half for him to have this war within himself, that he makes the right decision but then regresses... before literally becoming sick with indecision and change. And then he finally proves his worth and becomes the most loyal friend and a perfect leader to rebuild a broken society. I'm a sucker for good character stories, and Zuko's arc in ATLA is my hands down favorite ever.

3: Roxas - Kingdom Hearts

God I just love tragic male characters, huh? lmao. This one is a no brainer to me. Roxas is the OG blorbo. I fell in love with him at the tender age of 17 and have never looked back. He is kind and loyal but also a feral gremlin. He is so goofy but sad and god dammit, I love his voice and his baby blue eyes. Also this line, "This could have been the other way around." *shakes fist* MY BOY!

4: Faye Valentine - Cowboy Bebop

We love complex characters in this house! Faye has all the traits of a character I usually wouldn't vibe with: she's arrogant (without much to back it up lol), lazy, and is susceptible to addictions. But oooh do I love a character who uses negative traits to hide how emotionally vulnerable they are. Faye appears strong, mean, and confident to a fault, but inside she craves companionship and is incredibly lonely (despite her lone wolf tendencies). Rewatching the show as an adult, I found Faye and I have a lot in common lol. She needs a hug.

5: Hob Gadling - The Sandman

Do I really need to say anything? lol I love that Hob is the fandom's plaything; molding and shaping him and writing him in all sorts of different ways... but I do adore his canon character. He is brash, stubborn, at times cruel and violent... but then immeasurably kind, loyal, and forgiving. He takes on immortality in unexpected ways. he thrives, he suffers, he works, he regresses, he makes mistakes, he learns from them, he changes... he is THE human experience.

6: Daenerys Targaryen - Game of Thrones

Robbed. Robbed. Absolutely robbed. The writers did Daenerys so dirty, I refuse to accept the final 3 seasons of GOT as canon lmao. (and here's another thing: I would totally accept her spiral into "madness" if it had been handled seriously. If the writers didn't just pull this out of their ass and instead thoughtfully worked in justifiable reasoning for her to go crazy). I'm 100% a stan and there's actually nothing you can say that will change my mind :)

7: Cal Kestis - Star Wars, Jedi: Fallen Order

My SON. My BOY! I have the adoption papers ready.

8: Tifa Lockhart - Final Fantasy VII

Another OG blorbo lmao. She's been with me since I was a teenager (also I always shipped her with Cloud, not Aerith. I do however ship Aerith and Zack... the latter whom almost made this list. Anyway-). Tifa is the badass motherfucker with a heart of gold. She is insanely loyal and truly the wisest of the bunch.

9: Mickey Milkovich - Shameless

ANOTHER BROKEN CHARACTER WHO GOES THROUGH EXTREME DEVELOPMENT? Can anyone sense a pattern?? This motherfuckerrrr *shakes Mikey and slaps him in the face and sobs* God I love it when a seemingly irredeemable character goes THROUGH IT and comes out shining a new, yet somehow the same old, sarcastic bitch.

(Also please note that Lip Gallagher almost made this list. Another shining example of the writers doing his character the WORST injustice just to keep him on the show. He should have stayed in college. He almost GOT OUT. He almost broke the chain. What he did was not in line with his character and I will stay mad about it).

10: Cesare Borgia - The Borgias

THIS. GUY! AURGH!! Arrogant, violent, sexy bastard. You piece of shit. Cesare actually did everything wrong, he doesn't want to be redeemed. But he is so fucking charismatic and I love that he uses it to his advantage. He's so fucking smart and quick on his feet. He's SUCH an asset on the battlefield. And he LOVES his family! He will kill a bitch with his bare hands if they dare insult his mother or sister. I love that he grumbles when given advice from literally anyone that isn't his most trusted friend, bodyguard, and assassin, Micheletto. Doesn't even flinch when he discovers Micheletto is gay, actually teases him for being a momma's boy, and genuinely grieves for his loss when he flees. He says out loud how he misses him and actually begins to doubt himself without Micheletto there to counsel him. Cesare is everything to me, actually.

tagging, no pressure!: @rainy-days-and-nights @the-cloudy-dreamer @kemurai6-dominion-of-dust @ferelden-loser @teejaystumbles @tj-dragonblade @hardly-an-escape @sutoribenda @quillingwords @mathomhouse-e

[saltandfire-blog]

Lucerys Velaryon x Aemond Targaryen

Salt and Fire

When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in - blood and salt.

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon belongs to both sea and sky. His whole life he has tried to prove his blood runs thick with not just fire but salt, despite the scandalous accusations that have haunted him and his brothers. Aemond Targaryen is nothing but fire, and before their families tore them asunder, his nephew was one of the few people he did not scorch. History books would have you believe the green and black children of House Targaryen grew up enemies, but before eyes and loyalties were slashed, there was once devotion between the two second sons. As boys grow into men, it is easier to repay an injury, because forgiveness is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

Notes: I’m SO sorry this chapter took much longer to put out than expected! Last chapter I put out way too soon, posting it around 4 in the morning, so the next day when I read through it I was horrified to see just how many mistakes there were! So if you read the chapter 10 when it was freshly posted, I strongly encourage to reread lol. I’m sure there’s still stuff array considering I’m a terrible proof reader, but it’s not humiliating at least. So with this, I admit I did take extra time updating to make sure it was ready. Anyone a beta reader out there?

I also did receive a comment last chapter about Jace’s character development, and I wanted to wave frantically and assure them it was coming! And here it is! Lots of brother moments in this chapter that I’m particularly fond of and really enjoyed writing Jace and Luke. Entirely different brother dynamics than Aemond and Aegons that’s for sure. I know I have also focused a lot on Luke and Laenor’s relationship, but I felt like Rhaenyra needed to be paid her dues, especially after that new trailer (!!) so here is my tribute to her character development through this story as well.

The poem Lucerys reads is not actually from Nymeria or the asoiaf universe, but from the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley. It’s a favorite one of mine that I thought could sound easily Dornish. Florys the Fox also isn’t mine and belongs to G.R.R., though I did embellish and added more to the original story that I hope you guys might have found interesting with this back and forth story exchange between Aemond and Luke.

I really tried my best to go back and read over crumbs about Dragonstone from Davos POV chapters and inserts from F&B, so I hope you enjoyed them!

Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos, & bookmarks! I cannot express how thankful I am for every bit of feedback!

Oh, and issa embar zaldrīzes translation is my sea dragon 😊

Chapter Eleven

disenchanted.

Waves lapped at Luke's feet where he sat along the beach of Dragonstone, his boots having been discarded a while ago where he buried his naked feet beneath the sand and sat with a light booklet in his hand. Three rods had been set up, but it was only Luke looking after them. He glanced up from his reading every few paragraphs to check if any lines were being tugged at, but despite them having casted them quite a while ago there was still nothing. Luke determined something must be amiss and debated pulling them back in to the check the bait. Dragonstone's castellan Ser Alfred Broome had told them how harvester and hunter shrimps were common to catch in the warmer waters around the volcanic island, so yesterday their father made a day of rowing out past the dead coral beds that surrounded Dragonstone and set a net to catch the shrimp they meant to use for larger fish today. They were supposed to meet Laenor after they broke their fasts that morning, but his attendant had informed them their father was running rather late. Recalling how he had indulged more than his usual the day before while at dinner, Luke sighed and determined to go on ahead while he waited for his father to compose himself, taking Ser Lorent with him down to the beach to appease his mother. Even though his brother wasn’t usually interested in fishing, Jace had also come to join him, but Luke suspected he had only come as it was something to do on their off day without any lessons and had brought his bow with a small satchel of arrows to practice with on the beach.

He and Jace were still on tentative terms, but they were each other's only company it could sometimes feel like on the island. Their port was not a busy one like it’s neighboring island and lacked a market of any foreign merchants, nor was it teeming with relatives like on High Tide or the Red Keep. It was only them who resided in the previously vacant castle, and the servants on the island mostly came from the fishing village on the eastern side of the island. His mother told them it had not been properly lived in for over a decade, and remarked with a small smirk it's last resident had been her uncle, Prince Daemon who had left King's Landing with his mother’s brother's egg and a paramour. Though that was all before his marriage to Laena, his father interjected in defense of his sister's honor.

Luke found Dragonstone a very peaceful retreat when one warmed up to its gaudy castle and rather enjoyed life away from court with his family. Life was much more relaxed here. They spent the whole first week they came to the island practically living along the surrounding Blackwater. The sands were soft and the beach was long, and Luke taught Joffrey how to jump over waves and to pick his feet up higher as he ran through the water. Despite Jace and their father's complaints, he even enjoyed the smell of smoke and brimstone in the island's salt air that was particularly distinctive on Dragonstone, especially the closer your traveled towards the Dragonmont that emitted the thick grey smoke. Even his mother and father’s drawn faces had softened after a time and begun to relax in their household away from the capital, and before long, he actually heard his mother confess favoring their decision to move more than anyone. After all her refusals, it seemed Rhaenyra felt life was much easier away from the Red Keep as well.

Though while Luke and his mother wondered why they had never left King’s Landing sooner, it was his brother and father who were struggling. Jace had become uncharacteristically quiet even before they had moved here and it seemed even more prominent now. Back in King's Landing, if Luke felt betrayed by what had happened about the incident in the Dragonpit, it seemed his brother felt just as much, if not more so. Aegon's blatant denial of showing them the tunnels had appeared to have struck Jace rather hard, and as the ever dutiful son, whatever relationship he had held with their eldest uncle seemed to dissipate when he agreed with their mother that he was to create distance between her half-brothers. Jace mentioned Aegon apologized not long after the whole affair and tried to steer his brother back into their old antics, but Luke had found his brother lingering in their apartments and spending much more time with their mother and Joffrey than he ever would have before. That had included Ser Harwin especially.

Jace was not discreet in seeking out whatever attention it was he wanted from Lord Strong, and it had become a problem. So much so, that when Ser Criston was able to mistreat his brother in front of the other knight, it had been enough to provoke a beating so severe it had him disbanded from the City Watch. After returning all three of them back to the Keep, Luke remembered how he had stood in his defense against the Queen before his parents had shown up, and if he hadn't already began to endear himself to Luke, he had earned Luke's admiration after that night. Most of his life he had spent either trying to ignore or hate the man everyone whispered was his true father. Now that he was forced away, he felt unexpectedly dejected to see him go. Enough so that when Ser Harwin implored he should make up with his brother before leaving, he did his best. The two had never been so distant from each other and he could tell Jace was still sour about the slug he had thrown at his shoulder when he tried to pull Luke away from going after Aemond.

Though once the training yard incident happened, it appeared to have been the last straw for his parents.

“Father's not coming,” Jace called out, shooting another arrow into the distance to land in the sand further from his last.

Luke noted he was wearing his new bracers Laenor had made for him out of brand new leather that matched a sheath for the dagger Ser Harwin had given Jace that was now a permanent fixture on his belt these days. Before saying goodbye, Lord Strong had claimed it was a nameday present for Jace since it was approaching, though it did not look newly forged and had three small stones of blue, red, and green imbedded into the hilt. No one commented it seemed a much more sentimental gift than just for his brother's nameday. In fact, his mother had even looked away when Ser Harwin pressed it into Jace's hand, and their father handled it for a few moments before he gave it back to his son, only to gift him a sheath to place it in a few weeks later.

“He's just running late.”

Jace shrugged, loosing another arrow before traipsing off to go collect the rest from the beach.

Surprisingly, it was their father who had been the most publicly upset after the training yard fight. Ser Harwin gave his account of it all and told them how he had felt Ser Criston had handled Jace roughly and had only reacted to slander being thrown at his and their mother's honor. When the Queen called for Ser Harwin to be disbanded from his position, it was Laenor who pushed back rather abrasively about the decision.

“It was Ser Harwin that laid hands on my son, Ser Laenor. And we have already established years ago that Ser Joffrey provoked such an attack on himself when he threatened your own wife.”

“Your Kingsguard is a mad dog!” he exclaimed, angrier than Luke could say he had ever seen him, reminding him that his father was Velaryon but also half dragon. “First he’s shown clemency for killing Ser Joffrey Lonmouth at our wedding, and now he dares lay hands on my son!”

“Disguise it how you wish, I will no longer turn the other way and live beside this man who dishonors my family, your Grace. How much longer will you turn your eyes from the crimes this man continues to commit while in his position? When will consequences finally be sought?”

Viserys, who had been his own witness to it all, faced Luke's father and everyone was silent while the King hesitated to answer Laenor's calls. Though the Queen swept ahead and turned her chin up at the heir of Driftmark's challenge.

“Ser Laenor, have no doubts that I would gladly wish to see the day decency and duty are conducted about this castle, and consequences dulled out indeed.”

There were no words of threat, Luke had thought, but the way his father straightened and his heated breathing quieted, his mouth setting tightly against his teeth as he and Rhaenyra glared at Alicent, it definitely seemed perceived as one. Like the Queen had just drawn steel against them.

[actofgrxce]

So, OFMD is my all time favorite show and I am in love with every single character and have been wanting to try and join the fandom as Stede Bonnet, but I am SO nervous. Only because you, and several others, are just so incredible and I am intimidated but ahhh, I want to do badly write as my pirate princess. Any advice? Or just go for it? I’ve been writing for years, but graphics/theme making are not my forte.

Hey, friend!! Thanks for the kind words!!

I would just GO for it, with the understanding that there's a learning curve to the "rp etiquette" of Tumblr (and some users, as is the way with social media, will be more forgiving and flexible with "mistakes" than others). I would introduce yourself, as you have done here, to people who seem fun and chill, and express your interest in interacting with them IC. 1) Tell them you would be writing Stede. 2) Read their rules page (usually there is a pinned post at the top of a writer's blog offering a mobile-friendly link to their rules, which is basically how they prefer to interact with other writers, how often, in what format, what the writer's or "mun's" triggers are, etc) and tell them that you have: this seems to be a real sign of good faith around here. 3) Collect a small list of people (maybe 4 or 5) to start with, and follow them. If your rp blog is a "sideblog" to a main account, also let them know that, so that when a non-rp blog (you) follows them, they know who the heck it is! I cannot underscore enough how important it is to find people with whom you jive ooc, as yourselves. It simply will not be fun if you don't. So take your time with this part! 4) Make your blog. Customize your theme as much or little as you like, but a good rule of thumb is to at least make an "About the Muse" page (muse's story), a "Rules" (do's and don't's of interacting with you) page, and a "Verses" (discrete story timelines, usually grouped by how much you adhere to canon or by romantic "ships") page. Your muse is a "canon" muse: that is, a muse that already exists in the official fandom universe. 5) If you don't have it already, GET XKIT REWRITTEN (a browser extension that lets you alter Tumblr's increasingly perplexing and user-unfriendly interface, lol. There are versions for both Chrome and Firefox. 6) Start writing. You rp on Tumblr by reblogging a person's IC (in-character) post to your blog, and adding a text reply. They then reblog you. And so on and so forth. Here is where you consult their rules page to know things like: are they okay if I trim posts? Are they okay with me dm'ing them to ask for replies? What's the most courteous way to use tags in order to easily find past writing or filter my blog? How explicit can writing with this partner get re violence or s*xual themes? Etc. Everyone is different.

Re making your blog fancy: You do NOT need to be well-versed in Photoshop, themes and coding in order to run a blog. A lot of people now rp on Tumblr Mobile, where theme graphics don't show up anyway. Those who still use graphics vary, but most of us really don't care if our writing partners use them as long as we can continue to do so.

However, if you're still anxious, I've got a couple graphics and rpg sources right off the bat that can help you tremendously:

@poohsources (your one stop shop for EVERYTHING theme, icon, rp etiquette, formatting, etc related. A very kind soul) @octomoosey (best free blog theme coder on Tumblr!)

and if you're willing to pay for codes and graphics, I can also recommend a few good friends.

Also, if you have further questions, come to me. My anonynous ask option is usually on. <3

(Anyone reading this, feel free to add on your suggestions!)

[throwaway-yandere]

Happy new year everyone!!! Admittedly I suck at expressing myself so you'll have to forgive me if this comes across as a raw and chaotic mess lol. I'm not tagging the names either cause I'm a coward

It was incredibly fun running this blog!!! I never thought it last this long– and if probably wouldn't have it weren't for leftdestiny-post/shiro commenting on a fic haha (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠). Then I met some wonderful people, starting with like crying anon and their beloved elf darling, poptartthings, thatanonthatabsolutelyroastedtighnari, 😋 anon, veni, 🐠 anon, my mom exiled and hoo my brain is seriously a mess rn i can't type properly but i swear yall mean everything to me it's just that my aunts and uncles are all using the karaoke rn I can't hear my own thoughts but I need to write these all down before i pass out hAHAHHA (⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠) they're singing victims of love rn, idk if it's my heartbeat or the speaker anymore send help–

each of yall make me always look forward to waking up the next morning! Ranging from Assistant ✾ & esther anon trying to survive, brosch and their wonderful designs (i often imagine brosch and capitano just drawing designs in silent honestly, couple goals), bakery wondering how to calm dottore, 🐠 and mochi's drawings– you're all wonderful people!! Seriously still can't believe I got noticed my romanticaa and zhongrin what. I still get so nervous when interacting with both help hAHAHAH.

2022 did not feel real for many reasons, pretty sure I'm already dead and Faceless!Ayato buried me somewhere. Y'all are fun af. 🌠 anon idk how you're doing, but shoutout to you too for somehow reading my first diluc fic and going "yeah might as well see where this writer's career will lead". I wonder how many of yall are in the same position as them cause wtf man how are tall tolerating my idiotic writings hAHAHAHHA

((Just wanna shoutout poptart again cause mom idk what I'm gonna do with that 4 dollar tip 😭))

🐠, exiled and veni were my real highlight for OCMC. The alhaitham slanders– the betrayal– lmao i was just cackling like the gremlin that i am when I read exiled's ask after the last chapter I uploaded lmao. And signora-fanboy's reblog tags were funny too lol

It was fun cooping with exiled!!! It was fun reblogging jokes with zhongrin (and making me brainrot mafia!dain dhshdjwj)!!! I was so happy T^T!!!

And this december i get to talk to riabef and watatsumii too and they're both wholesome and lowkey/highkey chaotic i love you both! Where the heck am I even going with this message my braincells are not working BUT yeah my point is that it's so awesome that even as the year's about to end I still end up meeting new blessings in life 😭😭😭

I'll just shorten this part: I used to be a major loner. It's just that since my elementary days I've just come to expect a pattern that I'm friends with someone for a year until they move out of the country. It's like I was cursed with that happening every time until I just always expect people to have an expiration date lmao. Hence, I just wanna thank my irl friends Purple and Orange Friend/a-dose-of-phitre for being my longest best friends. They gave me confidence and no I'm not crying rn shut up. Idk why yall stuck with me. Wait no I do know the answer it's cause you both want someone to bully 😭 but to bully me for 6 and now going 7 years??? Aren't you both tired???

With that in mind– i SERIOUSLY DON'T KNOW WHY YOU GUYS ARE SO NICE TO ME 😭😭😭I PROBABLY MENTIONED THAT A LOT BUT WHY ARE YOU GUYS NICE??? I DON'T DESERVE THAT WHEN I'M WRITING YOU ANONS TO SUFFER– IDK HOW TO PAY THOSE KINDNESS BACK YALL DON'T MAKE ANOTHER "gatorade milo rice discourse" SCENARIO 😭

Man i need to stop typing my body's last hurrah is fast approaching. Can't wait to read this tomorrow and go "there are so many grammar mistakes here not even grammarly would make an attempt to understand this mess" hAHAHAHAH

Okay, okay, yeahhh

Happy new year everyone!!! I'm gonna wait like 21 more minutes and wait till the world does a factory reset for 2023. Hope yall have a wonderful year!!! Enjoy the fireworks!!! Yoimiya worked hard for those 😤