#gonna tag the others that have suffered the same fate as i

[confessionsdiaz]

me when YET ANOTHER SHOW I LIKE GETS CANcELLED

[residenthughes]

please, go easy

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.8k

tags/warning: fluff and angst, leon just needs a big ole hug :(

summary: leon's not been the same since spain. you're intent on finding out why.

notes: this came out of nowhere? was simply on tiktok and came across a post discussing all the events leon's been through and this is the result. don't have much to say except for capcom needs to give us AT LEAST a ten minute cutscene of leon being stupidly happy. it's what we all deserve.

i also posted this on ao3. if you wanted to check it out there, as well as my other fics, please feel free to do so.

the title was inspired by mac demarco's song 'go easy' that came on shuffle whilst writing this :)

enjoy! :)

It’s been a few days since Leon’s returned from his latest mission in Spain and customary to his awaited return, he’s glued himself to you. Any chance he gets - he’s skin to skin with you - head in your lap whilst you silently work away, delicate hands on your waist as you brush your teeth or prepare dinner, limbs tangled in yours as you slumber. Relentless in his aim to be consumed by you, the average joe would grow rather sick of the incessant touches that never seem to leave you. But, you’re not the average joe; you miss Leon’s touch just as much as he does yours and with the harrowing atrocities that plague his mind, you’re sure his touches translate to desperate grips of security in his mind.

You try not to worry. After all, it’s usually a matter of days before Leon has a pep in his step that washes your worries away. But it’s been a week now and nothing’s changed. It’s like he’s returned home every day, ruminating himself to ruins. You’re there for him, without a doubt, making sure to never pry but always serve a remainder to the refuge he might seek. There are some things that we just need to experience alone. You’re all too aware of that. If it was up to you, you’d eat all the monsters in his head for breakfast and kiss away the scars they leave. Alias, you do not hold such power, even if Leon looks at you like you create the constellations in the sky.

It’s a little bit past 10 now. A dull ache thumps in your feet from a long day of work and your attention span suffers too. Mindlessly staring at the TV screen before you, your fingers thread obliviously through the soft strands of Leon’s hair while he lays still in your lap. You think back to how not even an hour ago, the man approached you; figure looming over you as his stature entirely blocked your view. With how sunken in and purple-rimmed his beautiful eyes were, you could easily picture how menacing they were when his life was on the line. But, no. In the case of meeting one’s fate with a bullet to the head, Leon opts for an extension of his hand, hair brush in his grasp.

His hair could use a good brush. He could do with a good brush. So, you let him - legs lazily draped over his shoulders as he relaxes into you, fingertip treading ever so lightly against your skin as you begin to work.

“Think you missed a spot,” he chimes in when your movements come to a final halt. “My hair needs more work than that.”

In one swift motion, you circle your legs around his chest and bring them towards his throat with force. It happens so quickly but Leon still manages to get a hand in to prevent the tighter grip that would have been against his throat. “Don’t push it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You hear the smile in his voice and there’s a lightness in your chest you haven’t felt in a while. It’s good to hear how humoured Leon’s responses are. Makes you feel like you’re one step closer.

The phone rings and you’re back pedalling again. You know it’s the sound of Leon’s work phone. It wouldn’t be ringing this late if it wasn’t, right?

Except he doesn’t move, only nudges his head back. “You gonna get that?”

Oh.

It’s yours. How silly of you.

Perhaps, in the chaos of over-concerning yourself with Leon’s state of mind, you’ve managed to absorb yourself into the ugly anxiety it carries. The ring of your phone indicating so. You exhale at the top of your lungs and with the blink of your eyes, you make up your mind.

“Nah,” you smile without the burdens on your shoulder, fingers carding through dusty blond strands. “It’s probably not important.”

It’s almost as if Leon can hear the airness of your voice; the changed way you’re carrying yourself, to which he hums and closes his eyes as the brush bristles graze tenderly against his scalp.

At some point, you knock the back of the hairbrush softly against his scalp and unravel yourself from his grip. Having nodded into a shallow slumber, Leon’s head gives a quick shake before his arm reaches behind him, taking the object and standing to his feet. You expect him to return the hairbrush back to your shared room as he regularly does, but with a careless toss, the hairbrush clatters against the coffee table and he’s collapsing into your lap.

Your hands are thrown up, to express your surprise and slight frustration. “All my hardwork.”

With his curled up body facing the TV, the best face-to-face contact Leon can give you with his head in your lap is a side eye. You snicker at the sight. “It was gonna get messed up anyways.”

“Yeah, later,” you stress with the tug of his hair. Your longtime boyfriend can only laugh as you drag your firm hold. “Not when I’ve just finished brushing it.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” he mocks and you’re pulling at his hair again. At this point, you’re the one messing with his hair and it’s evident to Leon too, who simply laughs at your annoyance. “Thank you, though. It’s been a while since you’ve done this.”

Five weeks ago, you think. That was the last time Leon nestled himself into you, mumbling underneath his breath about how his latest mission required for his hair to be cut short enough that he couldn’t fully enjoy the drawn out brushes of the comb. You laughed, reassuring him that when he ambled through your doorway after a successful mission, his head of hair would be long enough to receive its five star treatment.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

With your chin burrowed into the palm of your hand, you watch the credits roll for the rerun episode you completely missed deep in your thoughts. You settle for another episode’s worth of television before heading to bed. Expecting the light snore of Leon’s slumber, you don’t move around too much but when your eyes cast down to admire your sleeping beauty, he lies awake. Eyes scarlet and forehead puckered. If not for how private the moment seemed, you would have ran your fingers over his forehead creases with the joke, “Don’t think too hard, handsome.”

As you decided earlier, if Leon was open to discussing what had been bothering him, you would be all ears. However, you were not going to overextend yourself to an area you didn’t belong. It wouldn’t be fair to you nor Leon. So, without much to worry, you rest your hand against Leon’s warm shoulder and begin to watch whatever 90s show was playing before you.

It isn’t long - give or take -  ten minutes into the show, during the ad break where Leon finally breaks his silence.

“Do you,” he croaks, body unmoving except for the desperate fingernails that grapple at the material of your trousers. You hold your breath. “Do you think I’ve changed?”

The question is so innocent in nature, but it carries a storm as treacherous as a hornet’s nest. If things were different, if Leon hadn’t boarded that plane to rural Spain, maybe you wouldn’t have to think as hard about your answer. A moment’s glance at his face would lead you to your answer, still quite casual but definitely making sure to let it be known that Leon’s change was evident. Given everything he’s been through and what’s to come, you’re surprised he hasn’t completely shapeshifted into a brand new person. You don’t talk about it much, but that night in Raccoon City changed a lot of things for him and you’re unsure whether it's something he wants to hear. Even now, after pondering the fact on days he was away, you’re still in doubt. The silence is loud and you can’t see his face. It’s truly up to you and you alone to come to your own conclusion.

“In some ways, yes,” you test the syllables that leave your lips, unsure if they bring peace of mind to Leon who quietly listens.

The moment is so delicate, like a basket of eggs. One wrong word, the wrong tone; even an exhale could shatter the dozen, leaving Leon’s vulnerability damaged forever. You want to say everything that’ll keep him here. Long enough, at least, to know where his refuge lies.

“I’d say for as long as we’ve been together, there are some differences in you. And, in me too,”

“But, I think what’s good to keep in mind is that it’s ok to not change and to not feel any shame in that regard.”

Your hands that found a home in the dusty blond locks of his hair move towards his jawline, the bone highlighted by the singular tear that cascades down the ivory of his skin. A quick brush of the thumb and you’re talking again, knowing the additional attention would have him gone with the wind. “No matter what the circumstances, or how many years have gone by, the way I see things is that it’s ok to still care, to still be soft or to even be scared. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of those characteristics if they make you who you are or shape your experiences.”

You say no more, content with the sentiment your words carry. With the entirety of your heart, you hope in the maze of your words, Leon’s found the treasure he’s looking for; the treasure that soothes his wounds and ease his burdens. He’s been through so much, you think to yourself. So, the least you can do is remind him of the man he is, jaded by the terrors of the world but still so full of love, of care and kindness.

There’s a sniffle and it breaks your heart. In the warmth of your lap, your long-time boyfriend moves subtly, staring up at you with dazzling eyes of blue that pool with his heartache. The sight imposes a hefty anguish burn in your chest, but it does not compare to the relief you see settle into Leon’s features. Everything is so easy now; everything goes.

You give a small comforting smile, thumb grazing against the light stubble across Leon’s cheek.

“You should come with a warning sign, you know,” he jokes, all smiles and laughter as he wipes away the remainder of his tears. “Making a man cry over here.”

You press a soft kiss against Leon’s forehead and he instantly leans into your touch. He’s just the sweetest thing, deserves nothing but the utmost of love and affection. “Boo hoo.”

He gives a pointed look and as you pepper the surface of his skin with indulgent kisses, you and him both know it’s easy going from here.

[empresskadia]

Not Everyone Survives [Blue Team| Red Team| Naomi-010]

Prompt: You didn't survive This is my treat for you all, I said, we're gonna be sad together~ I got some Red Team content for you @jackpot-library

Maybe after Cortana, it should've been easier but that was a delusional hope, John doesn't stop, John cannot stop. It's mission after mission for him, with or without Blue team. He gives himself no time to collect himself, John doesn't want to think because if he does, he'd have to accept you're gone. And if he doesn't stop, maybe somewhere, something will stop him and he might get to see his beloved partner again. There isn't a day where he doesn't hold your dog tags and run his thumb across your name or service number and he's so gently with them like it's the last piece of you he has.

For all the battles Kelly's been through, she thought she could handle this death well, especially after losing Sam and the other Spartans, but this was so different. Whenever someone says your name, she'll shuts down, and leave the room without another glance. It doesn't matter if there is an outranking officer on deck, Fred and Linda do their best to cover for her. Kelly's never fully able to let go and always makes it a point to visit your grave often, maybe if she was fast enough this would have never happened.

In his mind, it's his fault, and Fred continuously blames himself, he apologizes again and again while cradling your body until Kelly places a hand on his shoulder. Even then, Fred still feels like you're there with him. Sometimes he'll say something to you and when there's no response, he looks around for a moment before realization sinks in and he apologizes to you again, if only he would've been fast, more prepared and it's a constant cycle that claws at whatever humanity he has left.

It took hours for Linda to move as she sat with your body for a very long, letting the cloth wrap you up, that maybe, you were just asleep under the sheet. For once in her life, she doesn't have the courage, she had held you while you died and it took all her strength. Linda was quiet before but now she only spoke when necessary, and even then, using hand signals more often than not. She always keeps a reminder of you with her, not that she could ever forget, she never would do you the dishonor. It's just a way to keep your memory alive and every shot she makes from then on out is for her partner.

There is a single threat that snapped in Jerome's mind when he witnessed the life drain out of his partner. He held you till the end while you bled out, unable to stop the inevitable no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't enough, he wasn't enough to stop this. And the only answer that's clear in his head is revenge. He will not rest until everyone involved is dealt with and suffers the same fate as his beloved. His partner was the most precious thing to him, and now you were gone, so why shouldn't there be repercussions? Why shouldn't someone pay?

It's hard for Douglas to go on without you, every time he sees someone that even remotely resembles his partner or an object that remembers him of you, his heart stops for a second. He'll visit your grave often with flowers he personally collected and sits there for a long time before telling you about recent missions. He doesn't want his partner to feel lonely, so if no one needs him, that's where the other Spartans can find him. Douglas often tells himself he can handle this, that he has to for your sake because you would be so upset with him if he didn't.

To everyone's surprise, Alice refuses to accept it for the longest time, she saves a seat for you everywhere, even making comments about how she'll tell you about this mission later. No one dares correct her, she wouldn't forgive them. Any weapons her partner may have owned are cared for because she wants them to be perfect for your next use and no one else is allowed to use it. She can't process her grief, this wasn't a challenge, and this wasn't something she could fix, sooner than later her grief turns into anger and Alice can only take it out on the field, littering the ground with her enemies.

Missing her partner hurts like hell; Naomi finally understands the phrase 'a broken heart', it's a wound that will never heal, it's a hole in her chest that will never be content again. And she can only circle back to her thoughts of how lonely you must've felt, that she hadn't been there to die with you or even hold you against her while the light faded from your eyes. Naomi had always been surrounded by death but never believed it could take her partner till she saw your body and could never bring herself to quite look at the stars the same way again. Her star in the sky was no longer there. There is no amount of cheering up that BB or Mal or Vaz can do to bring her back, but she tries to find her partner in the little things, in the breeze kissing her face, in the water dancing against her skin but Naomi misses you and wants her partner back.

[rose-of-oz]

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗦

The time has finally come for me to share my Ever After High plot bunnies with you guys!! I really did mean to post this shortly after I talked about my Monster High babies, but some things happened and I never got around to it. However, I’m here now!! Feel free to also check out my Ever After High fancast if you want to better picture these plot bunnies with their friends and ships!

(Also gonna tag my beloveds @ginevrastilinski-ocs and @manyfandomocs since they’re the ones who inspired me to share these, and also my beloved @auxiliarydetective!!)

Tempest Witch, daughter of the Sea Witch, poly Dexter/Raven ship, China Anne McClain FC. Hidden away in the sea and homeschooled for most of her life because her mother wanted to protect her from having to sign the Storybook of Legends and suffering the same fate she did, but starts attending Ever After High after the Storybook is officially abolished. Kind of in awe of Raven and has a bit of a hero worship crush on her at first since she’s the one who changed everything, but eventually that turns into real feelings as they get to know each other better and those feelings extend to Dexter as well. A total sweetheart who absolutely doesn’t want to be evil and believes in goodness and helping people, but also intensely awkward and a bit naïve after being hidden away from the world for so long. Can transform into an octopus hybrid form whenever she gets into water, and also has hydrokinesis and is actually one of the strongest magic-using students at school since she was with her mother for so long and didn’t have a lot to do but practice. Obviously a Rebel, since she absolutely doesn’t want to become evil and hurt people, and her roommate is Lilly Bo-Peep.

Helena Müller Jr., daughter of “Thousandfurs,” Duchess ship, Paris Berelc FC. Named after her mother’s real name, but call her Junior and she’ll stomp on your toes in heels. One of the most fashionable students at Ever After High, and has definitely collaborated with Poppy on designs before. Happy to be a princess and looks forward to ruling her kingdom some day, but also wants to be able to design and sell her creations and is way too much of a social butterfly to be content being in disguise and unknown for years, so she certainly isn’t upset when Milton finally gets rid of the Storybook of Legends. A bright, cheeeful, and energetic person, always the life of the party, but also tends to be a bit insecure that people only like her because of her looks (a leftover from what happened to her mother). Develops a crush on Duchess despite the vast differences in their personalities, and though Duchess initially resents her like she resents all students with happy endings she eventually comes around and they get together. Some kind of a mix between a Royal and a Rebel (she likes her happy ending but doesn’t want to go through everything leading up to it and anyway believes that people should get to choose their destinies), and her roommate is Clara Lear.

Faerena Upland, daughter of Glinda the Good Witch, poly OC ship, Maisie Peters FC. Basically for the longest time this girl is Apple’s pre-Legacy Day beliefs combined with Glinda’s personality before she became friends with Elphaba - Faerena is a master at becoming exactly what the person she’s talking to wants to see and hear so she can keep boosting her social status, but she’s also pretty self-absorbed and doesn’t care about much but becoming Oz’s beloved Good Witch someday. Doesn’t care for the Rebels at all, can’t understand why they won’t just suck it up and stop making things hard for the people who do want their happy endings, and is constantly rude to all of the Rebels and Ness in particular, since he is supposed to be her future “enemy”. Eventually does realize the error of her ways and strives to become better and make amends, though, especially after she falls in love with Ness and Em - she doesn’t quite ever lose the vanity or the instinct to put on an act, though. Like her mother, has the ability to do magic but isn’t super good at it, which frustrates her to no end. Initially a hardcore Royal but transitions into becoming a Rebel, and her roommate is Emerald “Em” Gale (and they were roommates!).

Ness Thropp, son of Elphaba Thropp a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the West, poly OC ship (Faerena and Em’s boyfriend), Finn Wolfhard FC. Named after his late aunt Nessarose, which he isn’t exactly sure how to feel about. Most people at Ever After High tend to forget that he’s actually a student there, because he’s incredibly quiet and tries his best not to make his presence known. A good bit more skilled in magic than his mom since he has more opportunities to actually practice and learn about it, but mostly just practices so he can keep it in control because he’d much rather be drawing or painting than doing any magic. A dedicated artist who’s terrified of becoming Oz’s misunderstood pariah and is honestly kind of afraid of Faerena before he comes to realize just how constantly she puts on an act. The days Raven refused to sign the Storybook of Legends and when it was officially destroyed were the two best days of his life because it meant he didn’t have to be afraid anymore, but he also does have pretty bad social anxiety and has to learn to accept support from the people who care about him to overcome his worries and insecurities. He and Em start dating at first (he’s been hopelessly pining after her for literal years and she finally asks him out shortly after the Royals and Rebels start to make peace), and even though it takes him a bit longer than Em to forgive Faerena and start dating her - even though he’s also had a crush on her for a while despite everything - he fully supports Em entering into a relationship with her first and is the sweetest most attentive boyfriend to both his girlfriends when they all get together. Definitely a Rebel considering how much he’s always feared his destiny, and his roommate is Tucker.

Emerald “Em” Gale, daughter of Dorothy Gale, poly OC ship (Faerena and Ness’s girlfriend), Halle Bailey FC. Has always been excited for her destiny, since she can’t wait to visit Oz, but has also always thought Ness was sweet and doesn’t really want to go up against him, so she’s happy when the Storybook of Legends gets abolished because it means she won’t have to. Also doesn’t like Faerena much at first, since as her roommate she really sees how self-absorbed and image-obsessed she is, but eventually she sees how much the other girl puts on a constant mask and doesn’t really know who she is without her destiny and offers to help her make amends (essentially taking up the role of Faerena’s Elphaba rather than Ness doing it), and eventually winds up falling in love with her and dating her while also still dating Ness. Very happy when Ness and Faerena fall in love because she loves love and now the two people she loves love each other too! Definitely a lot like her mother, curious and adventurous and a bit quick-tempered, but also a sweetheart who would do anything for the people she cares about. Probably would describe herself as a Roybel (likes the idea of her destiny despite the fact that she completely flouts it, and does believe that people should be allowed to choose what they want to do), and her roommate is Faerena Upland (again, and they were roommates!).

Kieran Dancer, child of the eleventh Dancing Princess, Hopper ship, Keiynan Lonsdale FC. Justine’s cousin, but in her year at Ever After High since their mom didn’t have them until later in life. An absolutely terrible dancer despite the fact that their parents and aunts have had them and all their cousins in lessons since they were able to walk, so they’ve always been dreading their destiny and they’re intensely relieved when Milton finally gets rid of the Storybook of Legends. A very talented actor, though, and they get involved with Ever After High’s theatre department once Raven doesn’t sign and the Rebels are more free to pursue their actual passions. Kind of a class clown, super quick-witted and funny, but also has a big heart and knows how to be serious when it’s needed. Besties with Dexter since they both thought for a while that Dexter might be the prince in Kieran and Justine’s story, even though Kieran knew he was in love with Raven and was totally cool with it since they basically just see Dexter as a brother. Has had a crush on Hopper for years but never tried to make a move before Raven doesn’t sign the Storybook, but doesn’t hesitate to ask him out once the Royals and Rebels make peace. A Rebel who does also support those who like their destiny and want to go through with it, and their roommate (unfortunately) is Gus Crumb.

Molly Marian, daughter of Maid Marian, Darling ship, Ella Purnell FC. Has always hated the idea of her destiny, both because she hates that she doesn’t get to do anything important and because she thinks Sparrow is annoying and doesn’t want to get married to him at all (never mind the fact that she doesn’t even like guys). One of the biggest troublemakers at Ever After High because of this, because she is determined to make Milton’s life as miserable as possible before she has to sign the Storybook. The very first one, besides Maddie of course, to be on Raven’s side after Legacy Day, and is eternally grateful to the other girl for what she sees as saving her from the life she didn’t want. An absolute spitfire, fierce and defiant and never afraid to call out bullshit when she sees it, but also has a big heart and loves deeply. Has been pining for Darling from afar since they were kids, but doesn’t make a move until after the Wonderland adventure when she learns the other girl’s White Knight secret - they’re an absolute power couple when they do get together, though. Kind of becomes besties with Raven and Maddie after Legacy Day. Basically the original Rebel, and her roommate is Kitty Cheshire (which can be stressful sometimes, but most of the time she likes it).

Now, I don’t actually intend to properly introduce these guys or do much with them, but if you still want to ask any questions about them, feel free!! Hope you guys enjoy these babies!! <3

[avelera]

June 28, 2023 - The Sandman S2 Set Leaks

Tagging @orionsangel86

So I've been wondering since the "Calliope" episode whether Dream and Calliope's canonical son, Orpheus, was going to be alive, dead, or suffering his Sandman comic-accurate fate in the Netflix show version of the story.

I went into greater detail on my speculation here.

But, as of today, we have some set photos of what looks like a scene between Dream and Orpheus, and I've been asked for my speculation, so here goes.

Everything below the cut is gonna be heavy in both comic and set leak spoilers, y'all. Be warned.

Let's start off with the relevant images!

We've got Dream and Orpheus on a beach. We've got one scene where Dream is hidden behind a whole big stage piece too. What could it all mean??

In no particular order, my thoughts:

This is probably the scene in the comics where Orpheus disowns his father. In the comic, they do it at Dream's palace, but that's probably expensive AND they could poetically be going for that farewell also taking place in the same location that Dream finds Orpheus's severed head later. I wouldn't blame them if they went that route.

Which would make it this scene. One of the shots if of Orpheus walking away from Dream, so that would make sense.

Lines up pretty nicely.

However, it does reverse things a bit. Instead of Orpheus coming to Dream for help, it implies that Dream goes looking for Orpheus while he's mourning on the beach.

The other alternative is that this is after Orpheus tried and failed to save Eurydice. And in the narrow possibility that that's the case, this could be a replacement for the scene where Calliope urges Orpheus to run because the Maenads are bearing down on him.

I kind of hope not. If they replace the scene of Orpheus mourning his failure and his mother coming to warn him about the Maenads and Orpheus ignoring that advice, in favor of having Dream have that scene with Orpheus, it in my mind lends to the possibility that Calliope thinks Orpheus died in the Underworld or some other sequence of it events that culminates in her not knowing her son is a living severed head.

I really, really hope we're not heading to a TV show AU where Orpheus is the living severed head like in the comics, but Calliope doesn't know about it. Because while Calliope in the comics also, like in the show, says that their son is dead the comic also has her visiting Orpheus's severed head throughout his thousands of years of hellish living-death.

Personally, just speaking for myself, I find the entire living-severed-head plotline deeply uncomfortable. I've said before I think it accidentally smacks of ableism to hear over and over again Dream's insistence that Orpheus is "dead" even though he's clearly conscious and able to sleep and dream and talk and have desires about the world, but just isn't able to move on his own anymore. That's not death, that's being a paraplegic. The comic makes it further ambiguous because it seems like Dream is lying to himself when he says his son died long ago. It's also confusing because Calliope, on the whole, seems kinda chill about her son being dead all the times we see her. She and Dream seem like very distant parents if they can bear the pain of their sons literal active torment for thousands of years.

The thought of Dream in the show denying Orpheus even the comfort of his mother is actually completely irredeemably worse in my mind. And the way Calliope discusses mourning their son and Dream's silence in the face of that makes me deeply fear that possibility.

Which is one reason I hope there's no severed head plotline at all. However,

The fact that we've already had Dream reference, in 1.06, that Lady Johanna completed a task for him which, in the comics, was rescuing Orpheus's living severed head, makes me very worried we're sticking to comic canon.

2. The fact that in these set leaks, we see a sort of mini-sound stage where conceivably, Dream could be finding Orpheus's severed head, thus making the disownment scene and the discovery of his head scene take place on the same beach (which would make a ton of sense from a poetic and from a production economy standpoint) make a lot of sense.

Maybe we'll get a variation where Dream finds Orpheus's totally dead severed head on that beach. Maybe Lady Johanna will only be rescuing the skull or the body of Orpheus and they'll make it much, much clearer that Orpheus is just sort of haunting the head, like he can be summoned to it but he's not living in a hellish state of undeath the whole time...?

I could see Dream, by the way, giving that little smirk he does in 1889 about having Lady Johanna do a task for him and succeeding admirably if she was sent to rescue his son's very dead remains and not his actual living severed head. Dream's impishness does not jive at all for me in that scene with the seriousness of the task Johanna does for him in the comic of rescuing Orpheus's helpless severed head. It's very jarring if that's what they go with. It makes me think this plotline is going to be altered somehow. Like having the severed head be dead but just being like a summoning point for Orpheus's oracular powers, perhaps?

In any case, lots of questions raised and answered by these set photos. After all, we still don't have confirmed:

That the severed head plot will be there at all

That we're not just getting a flashback to Orpheus's total perma-death, not the beginning of his severed-head living death

That this is more than just a brief flashback or the introduction of who Orpheus is and we're getting a totally different storyline, like for example that Orpheus is dead on this day, but the severed head can be used to speak to his ghost (infinitely preferable, in my mind, but there's no evidence in any which way for this except Vibes)

We really just don't know yet.

Though, I will say, I hope they get Orpheus some robes where the top and the bottom match, and Dream some shoes that aren't modern dress shoes (oh, and find his ruby??) before any of that happens ;P

[daydreamingfuel]

Freak Like Me

Chapter 3

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

AO3 // previous // next

Y/N has just moved to Hawkins from England with her parents and is starting at the high school in the final term of her senior year. Eddie immediately takes a liking to her and they become fast friends, deciding to take her under his wing and falling to her charms. This is Hawkins however and things are never quite as they seem...

WHOLE FIC TAGS & WARNINGS: gratuitous use of Y/N (I'm not sorry), friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, eventual smut, semi-fix-it-fic, angst, injury, canon dialogue and events used, canon graphic violence, no main character death :)

Chapter Tags & Warnings: a hell of a lot of angst, Chrissy gets vecna'd, hurt some comfort, intense flirting with little payoff, daddy issues get worse??

Chapter Word Count: 7.8k

A/N - I apologise in advance, this hurt me to write too so don't yell at me

The days that passed were much the same, the days quickly turned to weeks, and over the month and weeks that they knew each other and grew closer, they had developed a smooth routine. Eddie picking her up for school; lunch with Hellfire; sneaking off to the table in the woods for a smoke and gratuitous but harmless flirting; studying, D&D prep and dinner at either the Y/L/N house or the trailer. On the days Eddie worked and Y/N had a shift at the bakery she managed to land a part-time job at, she would take a coffee and a pastry to him at the record shop so they could have lunch together, quickly learning he forgets to eat between customers and is grumpy the morning after. But Friday night, Hellfire night, was the best. It wasn’t at first, however. The older boys in the group had their grievances, of course, Y/N walking in on them voicing their distaste to Eddie before her first session with the group.

“C’mon, man! She’s gonna ruin it for the rest of us.” Jeff groaned in annoyance, sinking into his seat at the table and glaring at his Dungeon Master.

Gareth harumphed in agreement and spouted his own disapproval, “She’s never played before, this is gonna be shit! This is supposed to be your big final campaign before finals! Just because you’ve got a stupid crush on her doesn’t mean that we have to-”

Eddie's hands slam down on the table. “Enough!” The boys shrunk back in their seats at his sudden raised voice, before his furious gaze locked onto his best friends, “Unless either of you wants your perfectly crafted characters to suffer a fate worse than death in the most horrific ways I can possibly think of I will not have another bad word said about Y/N joining the party. Am I understood?”

“Understood.” They both said, in slight fear at Eddie's rage.

“Understood,” Y/N echoed from the doorway having overheard the whole thing, sparing the boys a glare of her own before sending Eddie a wink and taking her place at the table.

Y/N, despite having a truly horrible first attempt at playing, fell in love with the game, especially once she was the only one who could save them at the end of their first session and won the boys around. She quickly got into the swing of things, returning home from sessions buzzing with anticipation of the next session. Try as she might to get even a small clue about the progression of the story he was crafting, she couldn’t get a word out of Eddie. Not when she brought him freshly baked cookies and let him ramble for hours on end about future campaign ideas. Or when she would excitedly go over her notes in the van on the way back home after a session, hoping that he would let something slip but he never did.

He saw through her every time, “Sorry darlin’ you ain’t getting shit from me.”

“But Eds…” she would whine and close her notebook in a huff, making him laugh, “just something little, basically insignificant. Please, Eddie?”

She made him weak, but not weak enough, “Nice try sweetheart.”

The man took his role as Dungeon Master seriously, and it definitely paid off. Eddie truly came to life when he was DM’ing, and the sessions allowed for an escape Y/N had never had. Not to mention that it was amazing to watch the intense combination of pure joy Eddie clearly got from the game and the stern concentration on running the campaign. Playing ‘God’ for a few hours brought out a rarely seen confident aura. He was enigmatic, and Y/N could feel herself fall for him more and more with every week that passed.

Relationships blossomed in other areas of her life, outside of Eddie, as well. Chrissy had become a hesitant but fierce friend and confidant, and despite the conflicting emotions that came with it, they loved spending time together away from their respective boys. Mostly their conversations stemmed from their joined interest in classic romantic literature, but over time they started to tell each other anything and everything. It felt good to have a feminine best friend again. Someone to have mini spa sessions and self-care days with. To talk about makeup, and romcoms, and go shopping with. To gush about undying crushes and frustrations. Plus, the friendship came with the bonus that it thoroughly pissed off Jason. Of course, Eddie wasn’t sure at first, either. He didn’t trust that it wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass if Jason were to ever overhear their conversations, but as soon as he learned that Jason hated that the girls were fast friends, he was all for it. Even going as far as to pick them up from shopping trips in the van after work when he could.

Chrissy brought out a side of Y/N that she thought was abandoned in England with her old life. A strange part of her felt like she was leading a double life, and worse was that she kept getting horrific déjà vu from seemingly innocent moments with Chrissy. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own for not being honest about her past. But she had such a good thing going she didn’t want to ruin it. But the walls were starting to crack, for both of them. Chrissy could tell that Y/N was hiding something from her, but she couldn’t quite place what, mentally noting all the times that she would vaguely stare off into space then shake it off with a smile and go on as if nothing happened. And Y/N would notice all the skipped meals and times when Chrissy would disappear for a good few minutes after any meals they did have together and come back smelling strongly of perfume, brushing it off just as easily. All they needed was a little push for the walls to come crashing down around them.

Spring Break, something Y/N had never experienced, was coming up fast. Lucas was taking his basketball duties more seriously; the final session of Eddie’s most complex campaign for Hellfire was approaching and they had no idea how it was going to end; college application deadlines creeping up on them - it was all coming to an abrupt end, all too fast. Y/N never thought she would say it, but she wasn’t ready for school to end just yet. Before she had time to fully process anything happening in her life, which was starting to feel more like the beginning of a romcom than reality, the final week of term rolled around. And it flew by. Waking up on Friday, and donning her custom Hellfire shirt which was slightly tailored and re-hemmed to fit her waist and neck better, her mind was flooded with ideas of all the things that she could do during her time off. Most of them including Eddie, she had a big surprise planned for him and couldn’t wait to tell him that night. And Chrissy, they had so many dates planned Y/N had to start writing them down to keep track. And Dustin and Lucas, who had promised to introduce her to some of their other friends in Y/N’s year whilst Mike went to California to visit the Byers.

But her morning didn’t start the way she had wanted. As she mindlessly wandered into the kitchen, she slammed straight into her dad walking towards her room.

“Oop!” Y/N wobbled and he caught her slightly, “Sorry dad, I didn’t realise you were still here.”

“That’s actually why I was coming to wake you. Why are you awake so early?” The man straightened himself out as he talked.

“Pep rally before classes start.” He nodded sharply at Y/N’s answer before turning on his heel and leading Y/N to the kitchen table where Mrs Y/L/N was already sitting, tissue in hand.

“Mum?” Y/N immediately took a seat as close to her mother as she could and gripped her hand, staring at her father incredulously, “Dad, what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving for a few months. Work trip, completely unavoidable.” His eyes flick to the suitcases piled by the door, “I leave for Nevada at noon.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N blinked at the man in front of her, rage consuming her, her breathing becoming more laboured as she processed what her father had said. “You’re just leaving? With no other warning?”

“I received the call this morning, Y/N, there was no further warning.” Mr Y/L/N tried to explain as calmly as possible, but his frustration was evident. His whole body was tensed, hands flexing by his sides, and veins straining on his neck with every word.

“We knew this might happen dear,” Mrs Y/L/N sniffled from beside her, “if his work needs him-”

“Then that’s his main priority, I know.” Y/N finished, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice, making her father sigh and groan in annoyance.

“You’re not making this any easier, do you really believe I want to just leave you and your mother like this?” Mr Y/L/N finally breaks, storming towards and towering over Y/N.

“Well, I haven’t properly seen you in months anyway. So, what difference does it make?” Y/N sunk into her seat, fiddling with her hands in her lap, avoiding eye contact, voice flat.

Silence fell, the room tense. Only broken when Eddie honked from outside.

“I’ve got to go, don’t want to be late for school. I’ll be back late mum, but I’ll be home I promise.” She kisses her mum on the temple and she pats Y/N’s hands in understanding. “Dad…”

“If you get into any trouble, you call me.” Mr Y/L/N says sternly, but his eyes were red from holding back tears. “Don’t get into trouble.”

“I’ll try,” Y/N forced a small smile onto her face before suddenly she was engulfed by her dads' arms. Her heart ached, and she found herself tightening her fists around the fabric of his shirt. The once-familiar scent of his aftershave flooded her senses and soothed a small part of her soul. As she pulled away, she felt a small kiss land on her hairline and she shuddered, holding back her own tears. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. Not now, not ever.

Of course, Eddie immediately noticed something was wrong and a strange feeling of déjà vu washed over them. Her smile at him was forced and his grip on the steering wheel was tight, the bats flying on his forearm once again. He didn’t want to push, and she didn’t speak, slumped against the window, watching the trees and houses go by. Y/N didn’t realise her knee was bouncing until she felt his warm hand fall onto it and squeeze gently to tell her he was there. After a few more minutes of silence, he swallowed his nerves and finally spoke up.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” His voice was soft and worried, he hadn’t seen her this shut off before and it scared him. He heard her sniffle and clear her throat before sitting up straighter and threading her fingers through his hand on her knee.

“I know, Eds, just not right now.” He nodded and squeezed her hand once more, and she squeezed back composing herself a little as they came up to the school, “I need to go meet Chrissy before the pep rally, so quick detour? Then breakfast?”

He responded by pulling into the school car park at the last second and parking up near the gates. He jumped out of the car and rounded the front to open her door, before finally saying, “Yeah, you go have your little gossip session, I’ll be here waiting for you. Don’t be too long or I’ll go eat without you.”

She chuckled slightly and a smile pulled onto his face at the sound, holding onto it as he shut the door to the van and watched her walk away, shouting over her shoulder, “You wouldn’t dare, Munson. I’ll be quick!”

Chrissy all but ran to catch up with Y/N as they entered the building, her ponytail swaying as she looped her arm through Y/N’s. Her smile was as sweet as ever but Y/N saw straight through it. Late the previous night, Y/N had received a phone call from a panicking Chrissy who had just woken up from a horrible nightmare. Y/N had managed to calm her down enough to go back to sleep but the girl was restless. It was obvious to Y/N that her best friend had barely slept a wink after they hung up the phone. To anyone else, she was as bright and bubbly as normal. They walked the familiar path through the school towards the back of the gym, Chrissy gripping Y/N’s arm. Once they reached the door, the blonde turned towards Y/N and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“I can’t do this,” Chrissy whispered, voice small.

Y/N ran a soothing hand up and down her friend's back, “Yes, you can.”

“It just keeps getting worse, Y/N…but I feel paralysed, I just feel like I’m going insane.” Chrissy rambles into Y/N’s shoulder before pulling away and looking her in the eye. “I can’t keep doing this, I’m going to break.”

“Hey, you know I’m always here for you…you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to but I have noticed that you’re not well, Chris,” Y/N says gently, not wanting Chrissy to push her away but she just sighs and slumps back against the wall, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“These nightmares…they feel too real…like I’m actually living them again,” Chrissy admits to Y/N, who nods in understanding, being plagued by nightmares herself, and allowing her the space to talk. “They’re mostly of my mother, of the things she tells me about myself…my body.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, connecting the dots. Chrissy’s weird behaviour around food and the frequent bathroom visits all started to make sense, and made Y/N so angry at herself for not picking up the signs earlier. “How long have you been…?”

“A couple months,” Chrissy’s arms wrapped around her body, hiding, “but she started restricting my diet years ago when I first became a cheerleader, it got worse when I became captain…and that’s when I started to…”

“Yeah.” Y/N closed her eyes and flexed her hands a little before reaching out and placing a hand on top of Chrissy’s “I’m so sorry.”

Chrissy opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself when she saw the rest of the cheerleaders walking towards them, “We’ll continue this later, don’t think I haven’t noticed you either, no more secrets.” Chrissy’s eyes were wide, searching Y/N’s for any hesitance or doubt but she only found surrender and concern, “For either of us.”

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Chrissy back in for another hug, when a thought popped into her head, whispering the idea to her friend, “Feel free to shoot me down, I know it sounds insane but go meet Eddie by the table in the woods during free period, he might be able to give you something to help relax you enough to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Really? He’d do that?” Chrissy asked with a forced smile, being able to see her squad over Y/N’s shoulder and upon feeling Y/N nod, she thought for a second before replying, “I’ll think about it, I’ve got another session with Ms Kelly later, anyway…it might help.”

When Y/N left Chrissy to her other friends, Y/N headed straight back to the van, Eddie back in the driver’s seat, rocking out by himself to the Iron Maiden song blasting through his speakers. His predictability soothed her. They had planned to blow off the pep rally entirely, and go have breakfast at a little diner not too far away before school, and after Chrissy’s confession, Y/N wanted nothing more than a bit of comfort. Pulling open the door and sliding into the passenger seat, she greeted Eddie - “told you I’d be fast” – before settling into the drive to the familiar diner. Breakfast with Eddie was easy, calming despite his hyperactive nature, exactly what she needed after the hell of a morning she was already having. All they could talk about was the impending final session of the campaign that night, Y/N bugging him for any kind of reprieve. Which only made him laugh. The sound had become one of her favourite things and she made it her personal mission to hear it as much as possible.

The rest of her morning ran smoothly after breakfast. She didn’t bump into Chrissy again but the whole school was buzzing after the pep rally, so she assumed everything went well and she managed to perform without cracking. By the time lunch rolled around, Y/N had mostly managed to force the morning from her mind. And Eddie would only push it further away. He had found a copy of a magazine with a scathing article about his beloved game and was animatedly reading it aloud for the group to hear.

“‘The Devil has come to America.’” His voice was deep and lilting, mimicking that of an infomercial voiceover, right as Dustin and Mike take their seats at the table next to Y/N, “‘Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned.’” Y/N rolled her eyes, picking at her food as she listened to Eddie, his voice becoming more and more him with every sentence, “‘Studies have linked violent behaviour to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even” He slams the magazine down onto the table “’…murder.’”

The table chuckled at the ridiculous article, and at Eddie, Y/N scoffing before commenting, “Society has to blame something. We're an easy target.”

“Exactly.” Eddie brushes Y/N’s chin with his thumb, lifting it slightly with his index finger, winking before starting to rant, “We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But-” he rises from his seat and gets up to stand on the table, walking down the middle, “as long as you're into band or science…” he addresses the cliques as he mentions them, voice getting louder, “…or parties,” he mocks the group dressed like they just got back from a rager, who flipped him off, before he directed his attention to his true targets, “or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

“Loser!” Someone shouts, but Eddie doesn’t care, as he stares down Jason Carver who is glaring right back.

“You want something, freak?” Jason calls him out, and Eddie being Eddie, only mocks further – placing his fingers to his head like devils’ horns as a feral sound falls from his lips, smirking afterwards at Jason's disgusted face, “Prick” Jason mutters to himself as Eddie turns away.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's…” He jumps off the table and scares an innocent bystander, making a further spectacle of himself “…killing the kids!” The group chuckles at his antics but he bows back and holds out a gentlemanly arm to allow two cheerleaders to pass without incident before settling back into his seat, “That's the real monster.” He finishes his rant, one hand picking at his food, the other falling onto Y/N’s knee, her hand immediately covering it with her own, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle into her skin through her jeans.

“So, uh, speaking of monsters,” Dustin pipes up, he’s grinning his usual adorable smile but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, which are slightly scared, “uh, Lucas has to do his, uh, balls-in-laundry-baskets game. So…he's not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight.” Dustin giggles as he speaks but Eddie just stares blankly back at him, “And I know there's no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike, we were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that maybe we might…” Dustin is stammering, trying to break the question to Eddie gently but Mike, who was growing increasingly more frustrated cuts in.

“Postpone.” Mike finally says, causing the boys at the table to erupt into complaints.

“Postpone? You can't just drop this on us!” Gareth and Jeff are outraged by the mere notion but not as much as Grant who states a firm “Over my dead body.”

Y/N shakes her head at the childish behaviour, sure she loved the game, but wasn’t supporting their friend just as important?

“Shut up!” Eddie finally snaps and silence falls across the table, “You saying Sinclair's been taken in by the dark side?”

“Uh, something like that.” Mike hesitantly agrees but only gets a bit of food thrown at him.

“Something like that?” Eddie echoes, pulling a small ‘Jesus Christ’ from Dustin in response. Eddie just continues, “And rather than find a sub for him, you want…” his eye twitches, “you want to postpone "The Cult of Vecna"?” Eddie finishes incredulously, burning a hole through Mike’s skull with his eyes.

“I…I don't want to postpone it. We don't want to postpone it.” Mike gestures to Dustin who nods emphatically, but Eddie isn’t hearing any of it, standing up from the table, Y/N’s hand gripping his to try and keep him calm, his knuckles turning pink with the force of his grip, “It's just that, you know, most of the subs will be at the championship game.”

“Oh, it's the championship game?” Eddie finally turns back to look at Mike.

Mike seems confused “Yeah?”

“Can I level with you?” He drops Y/N’s hand, and she sighs deeply muttering a small ‘here we go...’ under her breath, knowing that Eddie isn’t going to just let this go and there would be no reasoning with him. “Jeff graduates this year. Gareth's got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, and I know I won’t thanks to Y/N,” He smiles at her and she winks back, the tutoring had been working, his grades were up and it looked like was finally going to graduate, “I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here.”

The group once again laughs at Eddie's dramatics, Y/N unable to stop the grin on her face that he was so excited about graduating. But of course, his friends had to humble him a little.

“Didn't you say that last year?” Commented Gareth, smiling smugly but with affection, Jeff added in the same manner, “And the year before?”

“Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit.” Eddie agrees but continues, his deep brown eyes were wide and hopeful, “This year's different. This year is my year. I can feel it. '86, baby.” He grins, eyes locking onto Y/N’s, a small blush creeping up onto his cheeks but he brushes it off and continues addressing the freshmen who look up at him with admiration, “You know what that means?” the boys shake their heads “It means you boys are the future of Hellfire.” Eddie rounds the table to crouch behind Dustin and Mike, arms draped across their shoulders “I knew it the moment I saw you. You sat on that table right over there, looking like…looking like two little lost sheep. You were wearing a Weird Al T-shirt, which I thought was brave.”

“Thank you.” Dustin nods but is unable to meet Eddie’s intense eye contact.

“Mike, you were wearing whatever shit your mommy bought you from goddamn Gap.” The table laughs once more but it is cut off when Eddie suddenly stands, pulling the freshmen up with him, “And we showed you that school didn't have to be the worst years of your lives, right?

“No.” Mike and Dustin agree, they had been taken in and appreciated for all their quirks and nerdiness by Eddie, they had a friend and inspiration in their Dungeon Master, despite of how much he scared them sometimes.

So, Eddie continued, “Okay, no, no. Well, I'm here to tell you, that there are other little lost sheepies out there who need help. Who need you. And all you guys gotta do is get your Bo-Peeps on and go and find one.” He pushed them away into the crowd, turning back to the table and taking his seat again as the boys scurried off.

“Don’t you think that was a bit much, Eds?” Y/N questions before taking a bite of her sandwich, shrugging it off when Eddie’s glare focuses on her. He was always ‘a bit much’, and they all knew it. His gaze softened when he saw that she was only teasing him. Her eyes sparkled and a smile tried to force its way onto her face behind the sandwich.

“You too, darlin’? You wound me.” His voice is low and warning, making a chill run down her spine but she ignores it and sighs, head tilting slightly.

“I’m just saying that it’s not completely unreasonable for them to want to support Lucas, he has been their best friend since they were kids.” Y/N gently explains, leaning back in her seat as though to challenge him a little. She wasn’t lying but she knew he wouldn’t budge, this was too important to him, but what was the harm in humbling him a little anyway?

Eddie licks his lips and quirks an eyebrow up at her, trying to figure out how best to respond, shocked at her lack of blind obedience to his word. “Do you want to die the most painful death at the hands of my, what was it that Henderson said…sadistic campaign?”

“I was never going to survive to the end anyway, I’m sure you’ve already made sure of that, Dungeon Master.” Y/N bit back with a smile, mischief glinting in her eyes, Eddie's eyes flaming back at her.

Gareth butt in before Eddie could say another word, “Will you two stop flirting at the table?” both of their heads turned to face him, seeing the older boys gagging at their behaviour made them chuckle, hands linking under the table, “I’m trying to eat and you two make me sick.”

“Too bad.” Eddie threw a crust at Gareth who swatted it away as distracted whilst Eddie leaned in to whisper to Y/N, “Valiant effort darlin’, but if you want me to break you’re going to have to try a little harder.”

He turned back to the other boys and chatted mindlessly as Y/N’s mind fogged up.

He knows.

Of course, he knows, idiot, you don’t exactly make it subtle. He probably thinks you’re pathetic, drooling over him.

Shut up.

Come on, you don’t really think you stand a chance? Have you seen yourself? You’re gonna be left alone again if you keep pushing.

First at your old school, now Daddy’s leaving you…how long before Eddie leaves too?

“I gotta go.” Y/N suddenly stood up from the table, grabbing her things and swallowing thickly to suppress the panic swarming her. Eddie's eyes were frantic, tracing her to find what was wrong. “I need to be alone for a bit but I’ll see you all later”

Y/N started walking away, leaving the boys immensely confused until she heard Eddie stumbling after her, “Hold up! Y/N wait!” Y/N kept walking, eventually coming to an empty corridor. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing I just-”

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N. Talk to me.” Eddie says running a hand through his hair in frustration. Y/N slumped back against the wall and slid down to the floor, where Eddie immediately joined her.

“My dad…he’s leaving for a few months, work thing,” Y/N said quietly, staring at her shoes, and fidgeting with the edges of her sleeves, “And I know we don’t have the best relationship, we haven’t been close in years, but still…”

“Is that why you were so sad this morning?” Eddie asked softly and Y/N nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N’s eyes closed, and her head rested back against the wall, trying to find the right words, “I don’t know…I wanted to, I want to tell you everything, I’m just…I’m scared.”

“Scared of me?” Eddie had never sounded so small, the words hung in the air for a moment and Y/N shook her head, eyes springing open to see him chewing on his lip, hands trembling slightly.

“No. Never scared of you.” She reached out and took his hands into hers, “What I need to tell you isn’t easy, and I don’t want to push you away.”

“Whatever it is, I’m not going anywhere.” Eddie pulled her in for a tight hug right as the bell rang, “Except for class.”

Y/N chuckled lightly and pulled herself off the floor. “Free period. I’m gonna go to the library, meet you there after you’ve done whatever deals you have today?” He nods and picks up his bag, following her down the hall.

He walks her to the library and as she enters, he leans on the door frame and asks “Hey, do you think Dustin and Mike are out ‘Bo-Beeping’?”

As it turned out, Mike and Dustin had gotten their ‘Bo-Peep’ on and managed to recruit a sub for Lucas, none other than Lucas’ own little sister Erica Sinclair. She looked sweet enough, bright blue jumper, hair perfectly coifed, and an American flag wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. but her attitude is what immediately sold Y/N. She had no patience for Eddie, making her stifle a laugh from beside him as he reclined in his throne, interrogating the young girl to no mercy.

Erica stood her ground as Eddie towered over her, stating firmly who she was. “My name is Lady Applejack. And I'm a chaotic good half-elf rogue, level 14. I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death. So, we gonna do this, or we gonna keep chitchatting like this is your mommy's book club?”

Y/N smiled devilishly, strangely proud of the girl, and it was clear that Eddie liked her too, a wide grin spreading across his face before holding his hand out for her to shake, stating, “Welcome to Hellfire.”

The session was brutal. Everyone was struggling to make any hits with enough damage worth a damn, and they were losing their own health quickly. They were floundering. Eddie truly had been evil in his creation of the campaign, but the worst was yet to come for the party.

“The hooded cultists chant, ‘Hail Lord Vecna.’ ‘Hail Lord Vecna.’ They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize,” The group is listening intently, laser-focused on Eddie as he talks, “his skin shrivelled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm,” he hides his arm behind his back, “but his left eye!”

“No! No!” the group erupted into a frustrated and confused chorus.

Y/N frantically looks back through her notes, “This is bullshit!”

“Vecna's dead,” Jeff states firmly, in disbelief

Mike agrees, “He was killed by Kas.”

“So it was thought, my friends. So, it was thought. But Vecna lives.”

Eddie placed the Vecna miniature back on the battle map and Y/N slumped back in her chair, “Fuck…”

“You are scared. You're tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists?” Eddie questions, giving the party two paths, “Or stand your ground and fight?” They consider the options, “Come on…”

“I say we fight.” Dustin finally answers, “To the death.”

“To the death.” Mike agrees, immediately reiterated by Erica who looks at Y/N.

“Fuck it, to the death!” Y/N echoes and suddenly the whole party is chanting ‘to the death!’ over and over as Eddie falls back into his throne laughing.

With renewed vigour, they go round upon round of combat, winning some but mostly losing. One by one, miniatures were being taken off the map with curses in their wake. The energy in the room was palpable as they played, the heightened emotion in the small room almost electric as they rolled and rolled their dice, trying everything they could to take down Vecna. Their shouts and cries overlap as Eddie cackles at their misfortune, knocking another figurine off the map. When Y/N’s elf finally succumbed to their wounds and died, Y/N let out a scream of anguish having missed her death-saving roll by only 1 point. Grant, at this point, calls a ‘time-out’ and the group huddles up on the opposite end of the table to Eddie's throne.

“Guys, I hate to say this, but we've got to flee,” Gareth states to the group.

“I concur.” Grant immediately agrees and Jeff nods.

But Erica is having none of it. “Didn't we just agree "to the death"?

“That wasn't literal!” Gareth says in rebuttal.

“Oh really?!” Y/N argues back, having just died.

Gareth scratches the back of his neck, in defeat, before he pats Y/N on the back, in comradery, “You lived up to your namesake, you fought and died valiantly.”

“Thank you,” Y/N says in earnest.

Jeff continues despite this, “Still, Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players.”

“You too? He only has fifteen hit points left. Don't be pussies.” Dustin exclaims, aggravated.

“Pussies?” Gareth bites back, abhorred by the name calling “Really? 'Cause, we're not delusional?”

Erica argues, louder, “Delusional? How about not cowards?

“Hey!” They all turn to face Eddie, who was perched on the edge of the table behind his DM screen, “If I may interject, gentlemen, sweetheart,” Y/N hums with a fake saccharine sweet smile, “Lady Applejack. Whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Gareth the Great's concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today, 'kay?” He mimics Y/N’s smile and tilts his head.

Y/N can feel the rage burning back up inside her and it was evident that Dustin could feel it too as he holds up a finger and said, “One sec.” The huddle reforms. “What do you think Mike?”

“How many hit points do you and Applejack have left?” Mike asks, trying to think of the best strategy.

“Twelve.” They reply in unison.

Mike nods, before saying, “It's risky as hell. But you're the ones on the battlefield. So, it's your call.”

All eyes lock on Dustin and Erica, they didn’t need to answer for Y/N to know what they were thinking.

“What do you say, Lady Applejack?” Dustin asks.

“You really gotta ask?”

Dustin thinks hard but ultimately makes his decision.

“Screw it.” Dustin turns back to Eddie, “Let's kill the son of a bitch.”

Jeff refutes “The chances of success are 20-to-1!”

Dustin doesn’t waver, “Never tell me the odds. Gimme the D20.”

Eddie throws it to him with a grin, dimples popping out, clearly, they had made the choice he wanted them to. Dustin cups the di in his hands and shakes, eyes locked on the battle map as he released the di and it rolls across the table. They wait anxiously until it lands, ultimately on ‘11’.

“That’s! A! Miss!” Eddie takes great joy in their suffering, Dustin cursing loudly.

It was all up to Erica. The party circled her as she shook the di in her hands, and time seemed to slow down. It was just a game, but Y/N had never felt so nervous. Erica finally released the di with hopeful shouts of ‘Please!’ and ‘Come on!’ from Dustin and Gareth. It rolls fast across the table, and nobody was able to see what it could land on, so they held their breath in wait for it to stop. Eddie leans over to see the result. ‘20’.

“Crit hit!” Erica shouts with pride and the boys go wild in celebration, Y/N laughing in relief and surprise, jumping in a little circle from the intense burst of serotonin.

“And that’s why we play!” Eddie exclaims and presents the board to Erica who is standing proud, a wide grin on her face.

The party was still celebrating as they tumbled out of the doors of the drama room after collecting their things, practically bouncing off the walls as they went. As always Y/N stayed behind to help Eddie clean up, and she couldn’t stop grinning at him. Her heart still pounding in her chest from the adrenaline rush, Eddie could feel the contagious joy radiating off her.

“What’s with you?” Eddie asks as he folds up his DM screen and puts it in his bag, “You died, I’m surprised you didn’t throw another hissy fit like you did the first time you died.”

Y/N smiles fondly at the memory of their first game together all those weeks ago, collecting all the figurines and stray dice off the table. “Am I not allowed to be happy we won, just because I died?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” He drops his bag onto his throne and rounds the table to where she was perched on the edge and caged her in, hands on the table on either side of her hips, “I’m really happy that you’re so into this.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the proximity, but she didn’t waver, holding his intense eye contact. The high of winning boosted her confidence enough to bite the bullet, “Well,” her hands slid up his chest and circled his neck, hands locking behind his head, “I am, into this…in fact, I think you’ve got me addicted, I’m gonna be chasing this feeling forever.”

He chuckles under his breath and drops his forehead to hers, smirking as his hands slide up from the table to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, “Then it’s a good thing I’m dealing.”

As her nose brushed his, he suddenly jumps back, and scampered to collect his bag from his throne, “Shit, sorry Y/N, I just remembered I’ve got a deal to do.”

Y/N’s face scrunched up in confusion as she collected her things and followed him out of the room, “I thought you did that in free period?”

“I did,” Eddie says then amends, “Well kinda, I didn’t sell her anything then.” 

“So Chrissy actually went to you?” Eddie stops in his tracks.

Never, not even once, had Eddie ever mentioned the names of anyone he sold to. He didn’t want Y/N to be wrapped up in the business, she was, in his opinion, too good for that. The only thing she did know was that his supplier was Reefer Rick, and that was only because he had let it slip one night whilst tired and tipsy. “How the hell do you know it was Chrissy?”

“Because I sent her.” His eyes widened, so she prompted further, “That didn’t occur to you?”

He pauses and thinks it through as they kept walking, Y/N trailing after him. Chrissy, besides himself, was Y/N’s best friend. A little fact that had escaped him upon seeing the cheerleader waiting for him at his bench, shaken up and fidgety. “It slipped my mind…Y/N I told you not to get involved with the dealing!”

They had made it out of the school and as he pulled the large double doors open, he turned to face Y/N. She was wringing her hands out, nose twitching and shoulders tense. “I’m sorry! I just- I was worried about her, thought that you might give her something to-”

“Put her to sleep easy?” Eddie finished the sentence and Y/N nodded.

They wandered in silence up to the van and saw Chrissy waiting by it, before they got close enough for Chrissy to notice them, Y/N stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Look, Eddie, if it makes you more comfortable I’ll wait in the van whilst you finish the deal.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, you’re not staying in the van, you’re coming inside the trailer with us.”

“The trailer?” she was perplexed, he never did deals at home.

“Special occasion, what I’m gonna give her is there, can’t carry it around with me.” Eddie explains, as cryptic as ever but he softens, “Just wait in my room and then we can…finish that conversation we were having earlier?” His hand reaches up to cup her cheek and Y/N leans into it, her eyes fluttering closed briefly.

Y/N could feel her body getting hotter at the thought, mind reeling but answered anyway, “Definitely, there’s some things I need to tell you. Not all bad.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s curiosity was peaked but he doesn’t get an answer as Y/N winks and walks up to the van to greet Chrissy.

The drive from the school to the trailer was surprisingly unawkward, comfortable even, as Chrissy ran them through the championship game highlights – the biggest of which being that Lucas had scored the winning basket. A swell of pride, then regret filled Y/N as she thought about Lucas. It was a huge achievement for the freshman to win the game and he didn’t have his best friends there to support him. She couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible, that she hadn’t fought for the campaign to be postponed so that they could be there. He had made his choice, but they should have respected the boys’ friendships more.

As they pulled up to the trailer, Chrissy jumped out and straightened out her uniform a little as Y/N slid out of the van behind her and slammed the door shut. Eddie led them up to the front door and held it open for them, Y/N immediately made herself comfortable, slinging her bang on the old armchair in the corner and flouncing her way into Eddie's room and flopping down onto the bed. She could hear Eddie rummaging around for something and muffled talking between him and Chrissy.

She wasn’t alone for long though as Eddie waltzed into the room “Sorry I’m late sweetheart,” Y/N sat up and watched as he bypassed her on the bed and headed straight for his cherished guitar, a stunning red B.C Rich Warlock N.J Series. He kissed his fingers and strummed her gently, “You’re beautiful…”

Y/N cleared her throat, “Am I interrupting?”

Eddie snorted, as he rummaged through his messy desk drawers, “I’ll be back for you in a sec, darlin’, I just need to- gotcha.” He pulled out a tin and shut the drawer, standing up straight to go back to Chrissy, “Don’t move.”

As she sat on his bed, alone in his room again, she thought through how she was going to say what she needed to say. How do you tell someone that you like them as way more than a friend without feeling like you’re going to throw up? The mere thought of telling Eddie how she actually felt about him made her heart beat faster and her body tremble a little. Despite part of her knowing, subconsciously, that he might feel the same and she’s just been oblivious to his signs, Y/N wanted to run away, to forget it all and keep going as they have been. Why ruin a good thing right? He was so good to her, took her under his wing, and understood her in a way nobody else ever did. She knew that he took notice of all of her mood swings but didn’t pry, letting her go to him. Until today. But Y/N was terrified of it.

Her thoughts circling her head were suddenly cut off their flight path by the electricity crackling around her. The flickering lights was quickly followed by the sounds of Eddie shouting from the front of the trailer. She had heard him shout countless times that day alone, but not like this. He was terrified.

“Chrissy! Wake up!” His confused and worried shouts echoed through the small space and dragged her to him.

“Eddie, what’s going on?” He didn’t need to answer, “Oh my god...” 

Y/N's heart sunk to her stomach at the sight in front of her. Chrissy was trapped in a trance-like state, eyes fully white as though they had rolled back into her head, eyelids fluttering every so often, her body stiff and unmoving in the middle of the room. “Chrissy?”

“She won’t wake up; I don’t know what happened.” Eddie was frantic, his eyes scanning Chrissy for any signs of consciousness. “I just walked in to give her the K and found her like this. C’mon, Chrissy, wake up!”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she shook Chrissy’s shoulders gently, “Chrissy…please wake up…” she shook a little harder, “wake up..” harder, “wake up!”

Without any warning, Chrissy started to lift into the air, knocking Y/N’s hands off Chrissy and sending her stumbling back into Eddie’s chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively and held her close as Chrissy’s body hit the ceiling. A blood-curdling scream tore from Y/N’s throat, echoed by Eddie, as they watched in horror, as Chrissy’s bones started to bend and break inhumanely. Her legs and arms suddenly contorted mid-air, but she still didn’t wake. When her jaw unhinged and her eyes caved in, blood pouring down her face, Y/N had to turn away and bury into Eddie’s chest. The only indication Y/N had that it was over, was the thud of Chrissy’s lifeless body falling to the floor, Eddie’s arms still caging her to him.

“Y/N…we have to go.” His hoarse voice suddenly filled her ears, she shook her head against him, still sobbing. “Can’t stay here.”

“We can’t leave her,” Y/N looked up at him, his eyes wild with terror as he looked from Chrissy’s body on his floor to the girl in his shaking arms. “Eddie…if you run, you look guilty. And we’re not guilty.”

He shakes his head, mind reeling and every fibre of his being telling him to run, “Y/N, I can’t stay here…they already think I’m a freak, now I’m gonna be called a murderer, I can’t stay…” He pulls away from her, pacing, running his hands through his hair.

“Please don’t run.”

“Y/N I can’t-”

“Eddie,” her hands cup his face, and he finally makes eye contact, a shaking breath released from his trembling lips as she looks at him with so much fear it hurt his soul, “please baby, don’t run away.”

His heart stops for a second. Hands itching to hold her. “Sweetheart…”

“Please.” Her thumbs rub his cheeks. He swallows thickly and grabs her wrists, gently pulling her hands off his face.

He whispers so softly it was barely audible, but she caught it before he left her standing in the room alone, “I’m sorry.”

previous // next

[dyedfrog]

the ULTIMATE OMORI fanfic recs because one of my favs just ended and it deserves more recognition!!

Okay lets start this off with the one in question (also not in any particular order)

These Days Without You by Smitty1899. absolutely beautiful, please read it this fanfic needs more of a community around it

By Your Side Once More, or, How Sunny Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Occult by Keltikknight. the suzuki siblings and their immaculate sense of humour. thats all i have to say

A New Dawn In Sunless Skies by letos. i wish this one would update again its got such a cool premise.

Sinking and Heroism by TenPes. linking them together because they're not part of a series.

The Faraway Event by kinemortomoli. me putting this here is actually a cry for help. i dont think this fanfic is dead but i cant suffer alone

Tired by Sunburner. this is pretty short and sweet (more like sad, depending on your ending preference)

DEADSPACE by Es_Novels. this one is so eerie as many zombie fanfics are, but i think the imagery makes this one take the cake

Car Trouble by Smitty1899. oh my god

Birthday Picnic by ToxicPineapple. poor kel. he saw mari like a big sister

stuck on one day for the rest of my life by lowbatteryhealth. we as a fandom need more hero angst

Reciting Wrongly by JonRightBackAtcha. not gonna say anything, just read it

Other Half of The Whole by JonRightBackAtcha. did not realise this and 11 were written by the same person. huh.

Fates of Damnation by Anonymous. oh my got two electric boogaloo

heat haze by crowcinthus. as someone who knows nothing about kagerou project wow

The Healing Properties of Reading a Book Out Loud to Your Loved Ones, and Other Domestic Bullshit by Prince_Enby. this ones good even if it hasnt updated in a while

In Which Sunny Is Bad At Naming Things by Prince_Enby. let me introduce you to the chatfic ever

I'll Cherish You Forever by phoeberrie. tiny bit hesitant to recommend this one bc of the themes but there is another fanfic later on this list with similar themes that is basically on every omori rec list ever so just a warning for stalking, obsession and gore. also, heed the tags. its good but not everyone will be comfortable with it.

Sorry as Can Be, For Whatever That Means by JonRightBackAtcha. quite a few fanfics by this author on here. but what can i say, they're great.

sinking. by marlkarx1. this is really good, also pretty dark. heed the tags.

Despite everything by Aisenic_Warrior. another legendary fic with no updates for over a year.

Sometimes a Knife Fight at 3am Can Mend Any Friendship by Shrimp_fry_rice. i dont believe it. you're telling me a shrimp frying rice wrote this fic?

Overwatered Garden by otomerson. rip flower boy lmao (im crying)

Picnic with Mari AU by Gornkleschnitzer. just gonna recommend the whole au

One More Time by GalileoGalilei. think of a 'watching the show' fanfic but its omori post-bad ending. now that i think about it, a version of this fic but they're watching an unserious playthrough on youtube would be kind of funny.

Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance by Smitty1899. whatever you're expecting to happen, you're wrong.

Amusia by JonRightBackAtcha. the legend. i wonder how many times this author has appeared on this list.

Kel kicks Sunny's door down by otomerson. attempted hikkikomori route

The Everyday Shenanigans of Something by Practicallyunethical. obsessed with the references in here.

Reality Check, Please by Paramocks. this fanfic has the kind of humour that could kill a christian grandmother.

Endless Dreaming by otomerson. this fanfiction is so beautiful it can make a grown man cry and thats okay (i dont know the quote dont kill me) please read it

Their Time by ShardOfHope. man this fanfic HURTS. you better read it.

The House That Breathes by Shifting_Walls. THIS IS SO GOOD

Broken Space by SpoonusBoius. yes, this fanfic is dark, but i feel people greatly exaggerate it. its not darker than pursuit, don't worry.

The Sun in Another Solar System by TellThemNaegi. if you look through this entire list while only reading one fanfic from here, please let it be this one. i have been totally fixated on this one and it deserves a mini-community of its own just like some other aus.

You're back, Mari by Anonymous. i hope you all expected this one. this is the mentioned one on no.17. im not sure how many trigger warnings i need considering this entire fic is so infamous i'd be shocked if someone didn't know. i don't want to risk spoiling it so just look at the tags. i was debating putting the sequel on here but decided against it. after all, the absolutely visceral reaction the pursuit au can garner from the fandom after just being mentioned probably has enough potential for a case study.

And there it is. the ultimate omori fanfic rec list consisting of 35 fanfic recs (I was originally gonna put way more on here but i got lazy near the end and put only my all time favourites)

[french-toast-enjoyer]

Writing Share Game:

Rules: share some writing!

thanks to @rkmoon for the tag, here's a snippet from a symbrock fic I'm not sure is good enough to continue! I also submitted it to @funkycave so if you see it on their blog hey, same hat. lemme know if I should actually write this:

To the world, he was once known as Ediliaphon. The scribe of creation, and the angel of all to be known by man.

Now his collar simply reads “Eddie”. A bastardization of the name given to him by the god he once loved. The God who had abandoned him for daring to question his divine plan.

The God that had left him there, in the writhing city of Pandemonium with every other rejected angel. Tossed like an unwanted, unruly pet. Weighed down with a rock and thrown in a river to die.

And he would’ve died.

For nine full days after the collapse of Lucifer’s army, Eddie and all other now fallen angels had lay in the depths of what was now hell, paralyzed with the never-before-felt sensation that would come to be known as pain.

That fateful period had brought to birth several new, unbearable concepts.

Suffering came forth in the physical anguish of broken bones and hellfire-charred skin. Agony crept into the faces of those lost, regretful angels. And annihilation–

It claimed half of all lower angels on the first night.

Without a master or cause to tie themselves to, without faith in either their love or hatred of God, many of the regretful, lost souls had simply ceased to be. Succumbing to their injuries with no hatred to empower them to stand up and keep fighting.

But for those who did hate?

It disfigured them. Morphed their wounds into splitting heads. Their faces became permanent snarls, their halos had cracked into horns, and their bodies had melded into darkness from days of bitterly crawling on their bellies.

Eddie was lucky. Eddie had avoided both fates, somehow.

It eluded him, how he had fallen without shattering his soft white wings. And how he felt so little in the advent of his fall that malevolence had not consumed his broken, once divine body.

Much like the others, however, he was frail. Fading in real time without a deity to uphold him.

On night one, his wings had wilted, night two, his skin began to burn.

He'd have given up forever to touch God again. Just once.

There were nights when he’d remember his time as a scribe. Appointed by the Father to pen the histories of all that had been created. It'd been so brief, yet so blissful. To think he gave it all up, out of pride. Out of the want for more accolade than the ultimate honor of witnessing the birth of all the world. What a fool he was.

He would’ve died. But on his knees, something had found him.

It called itself Venom. A manifest of sin much like those conceived with Lucifer’s first betrayal. In perpetuity, it was meant to be the lord of treason. Of biting the hand that feeds.

He'd been despondent when the entity had found him. Useless. Too tired to curse God and too prideful to beg for forgiveness.

It had sensed the angel’s weakness. Known it to be the closest thing to a lamb this wretched pit could offer. Only in appearance, of course.

Much like that which tempted Eve, it'd crawled to the angel on its belly, whispering sweet nothings about divinity and reclamation. Offering him protection in exchange for devotion.

Eddie, feeling bloody tears welling in his eyes, knew that his choice was either to obey, or so begin the process of fading away completely.

He'd looked to the heavens. They couldn't be seen. God was not coming to forgive him, much less save his life.

In short, he'd agreed.

So began his life, given up to the first and last entity that'd shown him mercy.

Herein begins the true fall.

I'm gonna tag @spibbb and @bunsofhoney because I like what I've seen of their writing! as always, no pressure to participate:)

[maiemorrae]

Before Page 1 Tag Game

Wanted to try out starting one of these. It might also just be an excuse for me to talk about an event in my world.

Basically, the idea is to give some information about an event or character interaction that is relevant to your WIP but occurs before the events of the story. Ideally, something that wouldn't really be covered in detail in the main story but would be brought up by the characters or has a noticeable impact on the narrative.

Gonna soft poke @amaiguri and @moonfeatherblue if you guys want to try this or pass it on.

The event I have to talk about takes place about 7 years before the start of Lost Recollections.

The Soul-Link Incident, 935 AE

The Soul-Link Incident refers to the successful and attempted assassination attempts on the Commanding Seekers of each city in the Imperium. The attacks were done by a network of arcanists whose main goal was the disruption and overthrowing of the Bureau, Arcanis Volatris. In the end, 3 out of the attempted 12 assassinations were successful.

One of the branches to lose their Commanding Seeker was the seekers of Turis Folis in Noxton. The Volatris' plan in Noxton was carried out by a lone member of the group, a ritualist known as Ryelle. Following weeks of preparation, Ryelle was able to learn about the true identity of the commander and used that knowledge to lead him into a trap. While with him she was able to perform the ritual that had been created and perfected by the Volatris. The ability to link the life force of one person to another.

Shortly after the ritual was complete the then Commander Arcalos was returned to the seekers. He was sparse with the details as to what happened to him, blaming it on one of the rituals done by Ryelle. Some time later Ryelle was captured by the seekers and swiftly sentenced to execution for her attack on the commander and her involvement with Arcanis Volatris.

At the time of her death, she put up no fight and died with a smile on her face. This unsettled the seekers who carried out the act, led by Seeker Robin. Within the hour of Ryelle's death, Commander Arcalos fell deathly ill and it appeared as if his life force was quickly draining. It was then that the commander revealed the truth of Ryelle's plan.

The ritual she performed linked their life forces through the spectral plane. If one of them were to die and their essence destroyed as is normal protocol when someone dies, the other would soon suffer a relatively quick death as their own life force suffers the same fate as the force it's tethered to. The plan relied on the fact that if captured, the Volatris agent would be killed, either just based on their allegiance or failing that, causing enough damage and destruction that the seekers would be left with no choice.

Just before his death, the commander named Seeker Hawk as his successor who reluctantly took on the role passed on by his mentor. It did not take long for news of what happened to spread throughout the other branches of the order but by them, it was too late for some of them which suffered a similar fate to Noxton's. The event now known as the Soul-Link Incident has further increased tensions between the seekers across the nations. The relations between Silver Seekers and their fellows are tense across many branches to this day.

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

Was this just an excuse to talk about an event in my world? I'll never tell. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to have some establishing stuff that isn't really needed to know for the story but can add a little bit if you know about it.

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

I lowkey (highkey) reeeaaaaallly wanna see Nice Eclipse's Moon come to our dimension.

It's probably gonna be an episode, and I can only see it going to ways: he backs down, or he doesn't.

Just think: Solar's (calling him Solar like @ayy-imma-ninja [tthey're at this tumblr so go check'em out if you haven't already {you prob already have tho let's be honest}, I'll probably just end up calling his Moon S.Moon cuz I'm lazy, sorry for the terrible formating of this by the way, I'm terrible at organizing my thoughts...this is why I type in the notes guys] does because it gets very confusing for me, I hope they don't mind if they see this, not gonna tag them cuz I don't wanna bother anyone with my dumb lil ideas) Moon stumbles through the ballpit and rights himself after the initial disorientation, eyes zeroed in on his kill. He scans the Daycare and identifies his target at the security desk. But guess who else is there...?

That's-that's him, right there, talking to Eclipse.

Of course, it isn't really him, he'll probably reason. That's this dimension's Moon, the one Solar seems to be so enamored with. He doesn't talk to Solar, not unless he has to, not after what he did to Sun.

But watching some version of himself talk to him...they're both at at ease with each other, or as relaxed as they can be with whatever seemingly serious hushed conversation going on is about. Still, they're civil with each other, actually bordering on friendly, familiar, even. And seeing that, S.Moon realizes...

This Moon is so much happier than he is.

But of course he's happy. He still has his brother, even after everything they've been through. His brother was lost before they had ever hoped to have gained anything, dead before their lives together even started.

Why does this Moon get to be happy? Why doesn't he deserve that same fate that S. Moon has suffered through? They're the exact same model, the exact same person.

But we're not the same, a quiet voice whispers in the back of his head.

He hates that it sounds like Sun.

I don't think S. Moon is really impulsive enough to actually start a fight. I do think, however, that he has quite a temper, so he probably wouldn't back down if the pair were to suddenly notice him in the ballpit and call him out (yes I'm using this as a way to continue the situation hush I am weak). So. I think the scenario would probably play out as Solar seeing S.Moon in the pit and going 'oh shit I'm gonna die' in that hardly surprised drawl of his, and then our Moon comes out and goes 'uh NOPE not gonna happen'. Which means we've got a battle of the Moons. Yippy-ki-yay. S.Moon probably confronts our Moon, argues with him. ('Why are you defending him? He's the reason our brother's gone!') Cue Solar feelin guilty while Moon goes 'nah dude this guy's different this guy's in my house so back off'

smalll scuffle to continue the plot cuz I HAVE A POINT WITH THIS I PROMISE-

Small scuffle, almost gets into a full-on fight, but who should come to his brother's aid but Sir Sunrise himself. He'd rush in, probably try to calm down this stranger who's he's trying very hard to ignore because it reminds him of the Old Moon so much.

(Remember, S. Moon's not the only one to go through the loss of a brother...)

And S. Moon just...stops. He's still, save for wobbling optics that quiver as they take this Sun in with disbelief.

He hasn't seen his brother in so long. He looks-he looks so different-tired and worn out and far too anxious, more so than he used to be. S.Moon reaches out...

...and then pulls back.

This isn't right. It's him but it's not, it's not him. This Sun has a brother, a family, friends, a life. This Sun has been broken, but he's healing in a way S. Moon never will. And with that all, there's something else he senses...

This Sun is happy.

...S.Moon wonders if his brother would be as happy with him as this one is.

He forces his optics of of the yellow animatronic in front of him and the orange one eyeing him warily.

He then walks back to the ballpit and teleports away without a word.

Solar observes quietly. Another careful prompt from Moon, asking if he thinks S.Moon will come back. It's a soft attempt at reassurance of a presence caring for him at the same time as it serves as a cautious probing at his feelings. He doesn't say much of anything, just shrugging, telling the blue animatronic that he doesn't know what his Moon'll do next, if he'll come back.

But he does know. He knows that there's one thing about every Moon that never changes regardless of the dimension: he always honors his word. And he knows his Moon won't come back.

He can piece together why pretty easily. Seeing this perfect little family that Solar has found and somehow earned a place in further confirmed his cut ties with him. It also cemented something else: S.Moon may never know what family is like. He had that chance with Sun, then Solar, and he blew it. Seeing that bond here, something he can never be a part of...

He knows that he's the outsider now.

That silent staring match between them said it all. S.Moon won't come back. The one and only kind thing he'll ever do for Solar. He'll go back to his dimension, silently aching for a future that he can't have, a world that isn't his. He'll work on his Sun. It's not Sun anymore, either, really, just an empty shell. Moon's no fool. He's probably realized that Sun's gone for ages, he won't come back. He knows that what he works on tirelessly, slaving away at night after night, skipping charges and sacrificing anything, perhaps even the metal plating on his endoskeleton if it comes to it, it's all for the sake of nothing but a hollow corpse, a husk of a brother long gone.

Moon doesn't have anything left to work for.

A part of Solar wants to go back and help him, save him. Maybe he will, someday. But he's making his own decisions now, choosing his own happiness. So he lets Lunar drag him away from the Daycare and his messy thoughts with a question of if he wants to watch more cartoons or maybe play Minecraft if he's not up to it?

Tired optics soften at the gesture and allow the smaller animatronic to lead the way.

He's home now. He's let go.

Eclipse moves on.

Well that accidentally became a drabble instead of an analysis. Oops.

...also I'm gonna tag @sunnyinajar because you seem to like my lil blurps abt tsams? I mean I'm sorry for tagging if you don't you don't have to like it I hope you do but if you don't uh that's okay um I'm gonna save this before I lose confidence and delete it-

[koskela-knights]

Ao3 Ask Game

Thanks @autisticwriterblog for the tag :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

542 but that's going to change to 543 soon I hope ;)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,498,254 words 😳😱

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment I'm still obsessed with Alan Wake 2. Gonna hit 111 works for it soon 😏 Which is why I'll try to focus on those works and becos this is my Koskela blog after all :D

4. Top five fics by kudos

Lmao, it's all DBH xD Used to be very active in that fandomD but my Top 5 AW fics would be:

Jacket (Ilmo/Alan)

Minds Collide (Zaneling, my only Zaneling fic lol)

Curious Case(y) (Scratch/Casey)

Off trail (Ilmo/reader)

Bleeding Hearts (Ilmo/Alan)

Honestly, I'm mainly proud of the first and last piece here.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to reply to every comment! Honestly, it's cool when a little convo ensues from that ;) I also save all comments in my jar (a word file) to reread whenever I'm suffering from imposter syndrome/feel down about my writing 😅

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Pheew... That's a tough question. I've written a whole bunch of angsty Hanahaki fics and general angsty shit in multiple fandoms.

Many early AW2 fics center on the aftermath of Jaakko's death ;_; Maybe Kaleidoscope is one of the angstiest endings but certainly not the only one

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In the romance category that might gonna be the Slow Roasting Love ending. But the Koskelas at Pride was very happy too. Again, it's not easy to choose becos of how many different situations I've written about :P

For a Koskela or Huotari/Reader fic, I'd like to say the historical Ilmari x transmasc Reader where they're in an arranged marriage but Ilmari's a closeted gay man and reader is a closeted gay transmasc person so in the end it works out perfectly for them 🥺😏 It has a smut tag but smut only happens in the last chapter. It's a slowburn fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think only once. I'm surprised and glad it hasn't happened much :P

9. Do you write smut?

Lol, my very first fic on there was smut. Once a smut writer, always a smut writer 😏

10. Craziest crossover?

I have a few post-apocalyptic series with a big mashup of seemingly unrelated fandoms together.

One being about Libraries where characters from Resident Evil meet PoTF characters, OCs and even Rose from Alan Wake so 😂

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Two of which one is published on ao3 too and the other on a Russian fan site :D Love when that happened 🙌🥰

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. However, the Echoverse has come to life thanks to many discussions and conversations with @zephyrone01 and @copiasmic who have helped flesh out that world and given me prompt fuels for some of the fics

14. All time favourite ship?

Tough one, for the AW world it would be CultCase.

Be it in the echo-verse or extended from there in other AUs 😏 And its 'variations' in Ilmari x Kesä. I love their tragedy across several AUs. Same reason I also love Jaakoppi x Kesä

And the third OTP would now be Tim/Jaakko which, again, was born from the Echoverse

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I once started writing a fic about the Koskelas and the Huotaris and the importance of stars and them trying to escape their tragic fate by astral projection.

16. What are your writing strengths?

🤔Maybe that I write multiple oneshots and make it a series. So you have this idea of a bigger world, without having to write one big overarching story or plot :P

Also, if i'm rly into a fandom and am hyperfixated, that creativity just flows abundant lol

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fight scenes. And believe it or not, sometimes I feel the smut isn't always as spicy as I want it to be xD especially if it's more than 2 people, that shit is tough to write. U don't want anybody neglected unless it's something a character is into 😂

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love it, but it's definitely a challenge! I usually resort to/limit myself to some translated words.

So far I've written stuff with Spanish, Finnish or Dutch in it.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

It all started with The Evil Within back in 2014. I think you could see an improvement in my English as the years go on in fic writing :P

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Sticking to AW works.... I like multiple works lmao 😂 All for different reasons. I'd say the two series: YY but Different and the CultCase series. (I can't choose 1 fic 😭)

Some of those stories contained, are standalone oneshots, but all combined give you a vast look into these worlds.

One being about bisexual Kesä and his complicated relation with closeted Ilmari. And the relationships between him and Ahti and between the Huotari brothers and Ahti (WIP)

And then you have CultCase which also explores many interesting dynamics between characters 🥺

And both series have a lot of angst, but also some tenderness and softness in them. And smut 😏 Something for everyone can be found there

I tag @copiasmic @entropicquilibriumofchaos @changethecircumstances @juhospemmifer & others who might wanna join but no one's obliged to do these ofc

[aquadestinyswriting]

Ten Songs Tag

Thanks for the tag @druidx. Finally getting around to this tag game now I'm home from holiday and can have multiple tags open and the ability to copy/paste effectively. Taking all the songs from my generic Titan Playlist

Tagging: @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff,@ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice,

Rules: Use your WIP playlist and put it on shuffle. Write the first 10 songs that come up and quote your favorite lyrics from each song and/or the lyrics that fit your WIP best (they might be the same lyrics), then tag 10 people.

All As One- Miracle of Sound

Fight for your values And fight for your friends Fight through this blight Find the light at the end

This one can apply to either the OG Heroes of Toreguarde or to the Destiny's New Servants crew. The lyrics above basically embody the stubborn will to carry on as long as you have others fighting alongside you.

2. Die for You- Otherwise

I would break, I would burn, I would suffer, There's nothing I wouldn't do, do for you. I would lie, I would steal, for no other, You make me feel so alive, So alive I'd die for you!

There are too many couples this would apply to in this damn setting (both romantic and platonic) but I think it fits either Edwin/Selene best and from Edwin's pov if only because I think he really would do all of the above for Selene in the end if she asked (or even if she doesn't).

3. No One Will Save You- Aviators

I burned your world away Devoured by my conviction I left you home afraid While mother's ventured out Don't cry when lanterns fade Soon we'll be awakened But it breaks my heart to say No one will save you now

Oh this one is a good one for the villains, most particularly Darkhide. The chorus basically echoes his kinda sorta regret for needing to sacrifice a whole city of mostly innocent people in order to get what he wants. He was one of the more tragic villains we had in the Destiny's New Servants campaign. A man so broken that he felt he needed to sacrifice so many just to save the one he loved.

4. The Weight of the World (English version)- Neir Automata ost

'Cause we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world I wish that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl Maybe if I keep believing my dreams will come to life Come to life

The song, as a whole, generally fits Elowyn best, but it does apply to Selene, Meredith and Alexis as well. All four women had to rage against the injustices wrought against them by Fate, Destiny, whatever you want to call it, in order to get the happy ending they wanted.

5. My Revolution- Miracle of Sound

Bring out the brother in me I'm searching for unity Everything is changing Inside of me The city's under my feet The ruins of the elite Everything is changing Inside of me

Ah, the song I chose for Laurence during his little revolution arc. The lyrics above reflect his desire to unite the downtrodden people of Toreguarde to rise up against a clearly corrupt Council and the fact that it changed him, and not in a good way. Clerics of Olidimarra amirite?

6. Hand of Sorrow- Within Temptation

So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind? So many years have past, who are the noble and the wise? Will all our sins be justified?

I chose this one to represent Alexis' journey during @druidx's 'What Alexis Did Next', but that part above could apply to any one of the Heroes of Toreguarde because all of them had dreams that were completely shattered at one point and all have various 'sins' to their names that could be justified by the circumstances they happened in. It's also hard to say who were the most noble and wise of them.

7. Building Better Worlds- Aviators

But no the battle isn't won The war has only just begun And we'll keep fighting, keep building A better place for us And if they strike us down tonight We'll sear the darkness with the light

This song was chosen more for the vibes, but this bit here reminds me very strongly of when the Heroes of Toreguarde finally got to the point where they could take Toreguarde back after its fall.

8. Ready Aim Fire- Imagine Dragons

With our backs to the wall The darkness will fall We never quite thought We could lose it all

I like this song as a theme for the first arc I Gm'd after taking over the Destiny's New Servants campaign. As much as the party had won against Darkhide, they quickly found out they still had their proverbial backs to the wall and could easily lose everything they'd just fought for.

9. The Moment We Come Alive- Red

Together we are bright as the stars We're a light that will never die

This whole song is basically a theme for the main thrust of the Darkhide Arc of the Destiny's New Servants campaign, but I particularly love these two lines from the chorus. The party have come together as a proper found family by this point and have become a beacon of hope against the tyranny of Darkhide and his allies.

10. Immortal- Aviators

We make our own way, We rebuild The city's razed Our prophecy is self fulfilled For better days

Both parties from the completed Titan campaigns do basically become legends in their own rights by the time of The Ouroboros of Destiny campaign, so this song is a fitting tribute to them. The above lyrics fit well with the OG heroes rebuilding Toreguarde from the ashes of the Demon War, which is a lovely mental image.

[theotheradversary]

Oh.

Just remembered something just as on the spooks scale as demons/daemons. But first and foremost, a paragraph forward of this particular "book" light novel style. Then a rough subject paragraph on the current topic... Then.... I dunno. There's the rambling. Just cope ok? I can't research beyond my own mind atm. But that'll be fixed soon.

I think we need to think about the current state of affairs to provide us with modern thinking, before we can examine the past. So, the things current Christians are suppose to believe in. So that means we get to talk Angels! They're in the currently accepted old and new testament after all. Some descriptions are rather... Descriptive? Heh. So i think we should look at them first. The named and the types. Not to mention ask artists to either draw their idea or ask artists that have drawn stuff if I can use their images. <There's drawings/digital art/romance era paintings etc by some great artists and Limited Artificial Intelligence artists. Fuck you! They're artists! It's just a medium man, you try and get what they create. You can't. Because you can't work in that medium and make what they do!>... Now. The rambling begins.

Modern Christianity eh? Always holding reverence for the holy, but scary af entities but completely ignore the "other side" that actually have some more less scary beings. I guess they go for "shock and awe" method rather than talk about the causes of the pain and suffering or the occupants of Hell that fight in the "Eternal War". (Pretty certain that's still referred to in current Cannon).. But they only mention Lucy.

All the forces of heaven cannot pummel a single entity? Bullshit. You know it, i know it but they never question why Lucy and especially Hell, still exists.

Limbo? Yup. They're on mostly the same page on that. A "no man's" zone where those not baptised but not condemned to Hell are deprived from the glory of heaven.... Aka christened belief is this: you may be a good person but you're going to suffering in solitude, without love, hate, pain nor light/darkness... Just no reason for being with no way to change your situation. For "The Eternity". Ultimately, to be condemned to be swallowed by the "nothing". Leaving a husk that has no thought, no memory, no ego or id.

Pretty much a worse fate than suffering in the depths of Hell where the self still exist.

Better to join the flock and be evil than not to believe in their cruel deity it seems.

Anyways. I'm rambling. I've got stuff to do. I so desperately need a station to do research, draw, weave tales of holy and unholy horror, joy, love, hate and neutrality. Currently everything is done on my phone. Not suitable at all! These fun topics require a proper place to be written and not have autocorrect mess with it. Nor me accidentally dragging paragraphs. Stupid app.

Later fellow freaks! Ghost fans will like this first subject i think. It's why they condemn us. Why we don't deserve love or a moral compass.... Crazy people, yeah?

....

Oh! Wait! Hey! Don't go! Not yet! I just remembered something crazy! A little morsel that Ghost fans and fun people will love!... and to finalise my crazed ranting.

Some interpretations by highly regarded Christian scholars have legit reasoning to believe that "Baʿal Zebub" is calling Lucy, "Of dung", aka calling Lucy a piece of shit. It seems the words of holy inspiration isn't below digging deep with their insults towards The Adversary.

Ok. Rambling mode off. I'm gonna still annoy Ghost fans more and tag stuff inappropriately. Heh

I hope the app hasn't screwed this up or i wrote something wrong... Bloody phones.

[al1x00]

⚠️CHAPTER 8 SPOILERS⚠️

You know it's a Katy fic™ when the tags for the previous chapter audibly made you gasp and question what the hell happened and then for the next one they're all lovey-dovey🥰

THEY'RE GOING TO HOBIE'S FARM I'M CRYING AJDSJKDASD

ALSO A WHOLE MONTH OF TRAVELING?! Damn imagine riding on horseback 30/31 days in a row and only stopping every once in a while to rest and eat like that's excruciating.

"To him, you were his wife in everything but on paper. To you, he was everything. You suppose it was all the same." JASJDBBKAS THEY NEED TO GET OUT OF THAT HELLHOLE AND HAVE A SPRING WEDDING I'M BEGGING YOU KATY😭😭

"You've noticed Cherry has become friendlier towards Bucky, and Bucky seemed to like the added attention." AAA AM I SMELLING A NEW LITTLE SHIP WITH THE HORSES? I love how they somehow mirror Hobie's and R relationship too it's so cute😭😭

"You're situated in the middle of nowhere." THE REFERENCE TO THE TITLEE

"But you can try, plant and sow over and over again until a single leaf will sprout, until a plant bears fruit." The fact that this phrase right here kind of represents what they both (mostly R) tried to do after they found eachother again after five years just makes me sob. It's like they were complete strangers all over again, but they knew eachother so well that they knew that they could bring out the best part of the other. Even though they were just hollows of the people they were before, because everyone changes a bit, they still had fate, love and most importantly patience for the other.

My suspicions that R was married off to someone after Hobie left are getting higher and higher with every hint we get, because who tf is this man that R is worried about? WHAT DOES R NEED TO SAY TO HOBIE?! COMMUNICATE PLEASE.

R KISSING THE SCAR ON HOBIE'S NECK I'M DEAD, BURIED SIX FEET UNDERGROUND WITH THE BUGS EATING MY SKIN ADJAKSDJSASK I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

AND OF COURSE THEY GET INTERRUPTED, it's another important part of a Katy fic™. I need to read all the chapters again and start counting how many times they got interrupted while talking or anything else😭

AAAA RIRII OH MY GOD MY GIRL

Yuri now has a sidekick when it comes in making fun of Hobie because Riri is here and sassier than ever

R is so real for crying after seeing the ring on his finger again after five years because honestly? I would do the same. Start to sob my eyes out of my sockets and fucking wail.

AWW THE DOGGO SHE'S SUCH A CUTIE

You've heard of the cat distribution system now get ready for the dog distribution system

R AND HOBIE TAKING BACK THE LIFE THEY BOTH DESERVE I'M CRYING SCREAMING SOBBING THEY DESERVE THEIR LITTLE CORNER OF HEAVEN AFTER ALL THEY'VE BEEN THROUGHT

WHATTT BUCKEYE YOU NASTY HORSE WHAT DID YOU DO TO CHERRY😭😭 SHE'S JUST A LITTLE LADY

I thought we were about to have another Culver situation but no it's just that old mexican man😒

RIRI SENT THE LETTER?? NOW IT MAKES SENSE

Riri just saw him sulking in her saloon and writing letters upon letters and just yanked them and sent those without even thinking about it

But she also kinda saved R's life sending those letters, because if she didn't R would still be in that horrible place, suffering the abuse of her aunt and uncle, physically there but mentally far away

THE OAK TREE JUST LIKE THE ONE BACK HOME THE PARALLELS DBAKKDKSLC

Also we don't talk enough about how scared Hobie is. He's scared of losing R more than anything, more than his own demise, he'd rather be buried alive than to see her blood drenching his hands and her once joyful eyes now empty. He's so scared of slipping and failing, because that one mistake could cost both their lives and I can't even begin to imagine the burden he would feel if something like that somehow happened, if R died just because he made a mistake, because it was his fault.

Brb I'm gonna go cry in a corner😔

You know what they say, "to be loved is to be changed", and R and Hobie really took it word for word. R still loves Hobie despite all his imperfections and dull facade he had to adopt to survive in the west, despite all the terrible things he did to live to see the day, to see her smiling face once again. And Hobie loves R more than life itself, shows her that love can be gentle and tender, not the once she used to experience back at "home", all the fading scars that burned under the healed skin.

GODD this chapter was so bittersweet but I also had to take breaks every once in a while and take laps around the house because I developed trust issues with your series and whenever something's too calm I have the genuine fear that someone will happen sooner or later LMAO BUT I LOVED ITT you made an amazing job with the dialogues and I'm IN LOVE with the descriptions I LOVED ITTT thank you for another amazing chapter Katy❤️ ly

To Live Simply

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 13.1 k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing) (Hobie is mentioned taller than her), CW suggestive, CW food mentions, TW abuse mention, CW drinking, CW violence mention. Wild west AU, Cowboy AU.

A/N: I wrote my late dog in this to remember her by, please be nice to the dog ❤️

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 8 >>> CHAPTER 9

The journey to Hobie's farm was excruciating, yet quiet and peaceful. If not for both yours and Hobie's still healing injuries it would've been a more pleasant ride. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't anyone who wanted to ambush you, and no one to point a gun at; no one to hurt you and Hobie.

The entire time you were afraid, afraid that something would happen the least you expected it. You were waiting for disaster to hit, you've never been at peace on the road, so you were high strung, hands gripping tightly around the reins while you kept your gun fully loaded and ready on your back. Luckily, nothing noteworthy happened during that one whole month of traveling west and away from the south.

Hobie clung to you like sap on wood, and you did too. You both never spoke of what happened that day, it was horrible, even now hallucinations still linger in the back of your head. Sometimes you see her staring at you on the side of the road, sometimes you smell burnt coffee out of nowhere. Hobie understood what they put you through while he lay asleep dreaming of you. He did everything he could to help you return to reality with every grasp of your hand, and with every kiss on your temple— effectively shaking you awake. You take care of him too, changing his bandages in camp, wincing with him whilst you clean his wounds.

It was just you and him, and you've got everything to lose if they ever find you.

You both were careful on the road, always traveling at night under the stars. Lighting small fires that are enough to keep you warm. You've even started to hide your face under a bandana. If it was absolutely needed to go into town, you and Hobie never stayed too long to make an impression. To everyone else, he was Larry Smith and you were his wife. To him, you were his wife in everything but on paper. To you, he was everything. You suppose it was all the same.

The horses are well kept despite the long rides, they slept well, ate even better than you and Hobie. You've noticed Cherry has become friendlier towards Bucky, and Bucky seemed to like the added attention.

Your back aches from the long ride, dawn has just begun to break. The breeze hums in your ears as you and Hobie finally make it to his farm. A piece of land in a valley and in between monstrous mountains that rise up into the clouds; and what seems to be thousands of miles of nothingness. There's nothing but land everywhere you look, the town you passed through hours ago is nothing but a dot in the far distance.

You're situated in the middle of nowhere.

“It's not much, but it's home.” Hobie stands before you, shoulders relaxed, eyes glancing towards you as if he's waiting for approval.

The farmhouse isn't as grand as your old home, it doesn't have the gilded awnings or marble pillars that seem to rise up towards the heavens. The house is made out of wood, two stories high with a simple porch that wraps around the entire structure. Its white paint is chipping, doors weathered by the elements and time. Empty flower pots sit nearby, just waiting to be used once again. Further away, a barn sits near a small pond. The structure’s red paint faded into a murky brown with dead vines covering its side. A windmill stands next to it, the blades squeak in the wind, wood creaking whenever a harsh breeze blows.

The picket fences around the property lay broken with its old chalky paint cracking and melting away. The land surrounding it doesn't look any better, it's barren and dry save for the tall brown grass growing everywhere. There are also stumps left behind by cut trees, a couple have survived long enough to grow as tall as the barn and they both sit behind the farmhouse a few paces away. It lacks any greenery you'd expect for a farm. With its dry soil underneath your feet, you're sure that there's nothing that could grow here. But you can try, plant and sow over and over again until a single leaf will sprout, until a plant bears fruit.

There's nothing else all around the place, nothing but stretches and miles upon miles of empty land. You like it that way. It's just you and him, him and you. You'd never have it any other way.

For the first time in a very long time, you feel like you can finally breathe. Fate has finally granted you reprieve.

“It's perfect.” You smile, stepping forward, reaching for his hand and then squeezing it once. “It's home.”

Hobie's lips slowly curl up into a smile, intertwining your fingers around his own. “What are we waitin' for?” With a sudden arm around the back of your knees, he gracefully carries you in his arms, earning a surprised yelp and laughter from you. You grasp at his vest, giggling against his chest. “Let's get inside.”

Even in his arms, you still feel the gnawing in the back of your mind. The danger that lurks behind the mountains, a danger that you both are ignoring for now in place of bliss. It's as if a heavy blanket is laid upon your chest, crushing you under its weight, breaking your rib cage in half, squishing your heart until a mush of blood and muscle is the only thing left in its wake.

Then, there's the nature of the man from the place you once called your home. You think he'd kill you the moment he sees you in the arms of Hobie, laughing against his chest, holding on to him as if he's your husband. Should I tell Hobie? You thought to yourself, it will ruin him. It will ruin you in his mind. Your heart thuds against your chest akin to a train engine just from thinking about it. You think it'll never go away, that it will continue to eat at you like you're a carcass left for the vultures in a dry humid desert. But for now, you stay laughing against his skin, kissing every inch of his face as he brings you inside. Until you're ready, you promise yourself that you'll tell him, even if it ruins you.

Hobie, unbeknownst to the inner turmoil you're having; kisses you back gently, dry lips against your sweaty forehead, he doesn't mind as he peppers your face. It's a battle, where you two are the winners.

You kick about in his arms, the stubble on his chin tickles you, and of course he notices it. He decides to hear you laugh, really laugh— so he nudges your head away, rubbing his stubble up and down your neck. Your giggles immediately fill the home, leaning away, hands patting his chest rapidly. If not for his hold on you, you would've fell seconds ago.

“Enough!” You shriek, but your own laughter betrays you. With every nudge, you forget about your thoughts, only focusing on the man before you.

Hobie wheezes, moving an inch away from your neck. “You sure? I don't think ‘m done yet.” He fixes his grasp on you, hand placed just above your ribs, fingers flexing, threatening to tickle you there.

You scoff, a sound similar to a giggle. “We've been on the road for a long time, Hobie, and we haven't had a proper bath in weeks!” He opens his mouth to speak. “A dip in the river doesn't count.”

With furrowed brows, he leans closer, lips curled mischievously. “You tellin’ me that I smell?”

You chuckle, hand patting his cheek lovingly. “No, I'm saying that I smell.”

“Really?” Hobie starts to lean closer but you stop him with your hand on his forehead. He smiles, trying to wiggle his head. “I was just about to check!”

There's the same glint in your eyes. You hum, cradling his jaw, pushing him gently upwards. The scar on his neck is in full display to you, Hobie tries to shake his head in protest, his sudden insecurity for the raised scar makes him think that you were second guessing your choices. But with your simple movement of pulling yourself up, enough to be eye level to the scar, and with your lips resting upon it makes him think otherwise.

He turns into honey under your touch, and you're the one licking his sweetness off of your finger tips.

You feel his staggered breath under your lips, Hobie almost drops you the second you kiss his scar. He feels your love through it all, fingers digging into your side but not enough to leave a mark. Closing his eyes, he lets you peck as your thumb runs along his Adam's apple that bops up and down with every nervous swallow. He even leans upwards to give you more space.

“I missed you.” Hobie says in a breathy whisper while you continue to attack his skin, hand pressed on your back, helping lift you up. “I should've told you that when I first—” You hold onto his nape to kiss higher, nipping gently, earning a shaky exhale from him. “—fuckin’ hell, you'll be the death of me. Five minutes in and you're already tryin’ to—”

“Knock knock?”

“Oh fuck—!” You suddenly drop down to the floor, butt aching as you stare at the visitor standing in the doorway.

“Shit—” Hobie fumbles, none of the coolness he exhibited during your journey. He tries to help you up, but then immediately decides to get his gun out that he also flounders over. His gun falls, bullets falling out, metal clanking on the dusty wooden floors. “Ah, fuck!” Kneeling down, he tries to pick up all the scattered bullets.

“Caught you in a bad time, huh?”

You glance between Hobie and the woman in the doorway. Hobie sighs, eyes staring daggers at the stranger. Her curly hair is styled in braids, leather chaps and jacket matching, hands casually placed inside her jean pockets. The sun behind her drapes her in gold, the same colour as the hat sitting atop her head. Her genuine smile is one of those contagious smiles that turns your frown into a friendly grin, you smile wider when you meet with her eyes that are laced with amusement. She gives you a wink, and then returns her attention towards Hobie who has given up on picking up his ammo.

“No, no, take your time, Hobie.”

He sighs, head falling down in shame. “What are you doin' ‘ere, Riri?”

“I was on my routine check. Imagine my surprise when I saw Bucky frolicking outside with a new horse.” Riri enters, hand reaching towards you. “The name's Riri, a friend of Hobie's.”

You smile up at her, taking her hand as she gracefully lifts you back up on your feet. “Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” She shakes your hand, leaning slightly to whisper in a louder tone. “You're even prettier than what this loser told me.”

Hobie sighs, “Riri, c’mon—”

“Why don't you get up, cowboy?” Riri lets your hand go, she then crosses her arms over her chest whilst you watch them interact.

Hobie stays kneeling, turned away from you and Riri, hand conveniently on his lap. “Don't you dare tell her shit, Riri.” He says, green eyes narrowed into slits.

You tamp down a laugh, glancing down at Hobie who just shakes his head with a ghost of a smile. You're tempted to tease him too, but Riri catching you two in the act was enough embarrassment for him.

“You told stories about me?” If your cheeks could run any warmer, you can boil water on it.

“He's a chatterbox when he's drunk.”

“He is?” You turn towards the said man, beaming at him.

“Don't you have anythin' better to do—?” Hobie gets ignored as Riri continues to chat with you. He resigns, huffing in place.

“Mm-hmm, he says the craziest shit. You think he's all that out there but the second he drinks his third glass, he's out in my saloon yammering about something. Sometimes that something has to do with you.” She pauses, nudging your shoulder. “Don't worry, he only tells me the good stuff. I practically already know you.” Your eyes widen. “Not in a weird way, in a…”

“Good job, Ri, you made it awkward.” Hobie eggs her on.

Riri rolls her eyes. “She knows what I'm talking about, right?” She turns to you, smiling softly like she's already trying to apologize.

“That so? Don't worry, I understand what you meant.” You flick your eyes towards Hobie, who's still unable to stand up. “Since you already know me—”

“Ah, yes!” She claps her hands in understanding. “You may go to my saloon and dig more details about what Hobie's been doing these past five years.” Riri meets Hobie's eyes. “You never know, you might even come across our old gang.”

You copy her, teasing Hobie even more. “The more the merrier then.”

“Great,” Hobie huffs, finally standing up. “You've created a monster, Riri.”

“Don't call her a monster!” Riri acts offended for you.

“Yeah! Don't call me a monster!”

Hobie could only sigh in defeat. He mumbles under his breath, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “If I wasn't so tired.”

“Oh that reminds me.” You say excitedly, you've finally found a friend after everything that has happened. “Do you want to stay for tea?”

“We don't have anythin', love.” Hobie gestures towards the near empty kitchen cabinets that were left open.

Riri smirks at the name he used for you. Hobie warns her with a look. “That would be great, but I gotta go back out there. I heard there's a huge deer roaming around and I want to be the one to get it before anyone else does.”

“That's too bad.” You're genuinely disappointed.

“Yeah, that's too bad.” Hobie copies sarcastically, less disappointed.

Riri chuckles, “don't worry, Y/N, my saloon's always open for you.” She clasps your shoulder. “Welcome to Scarlett Meadows, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Riri. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, love,” Riri mocks him. Hobie audibly groans, she smacks his chest. “Welcome back, loser.” With a flourish, Riri exits the house and then jumps back on her horse to ride away. Hobie closes and locks the front door behind her.

“I like her already.”

Hobie wraps his arm around your middle, pulling you close for an embrace. “‘m glad, she's a good friend.”

You nuzzle his shoulder, to which he takes your cheek, already leaning down to meet you halfway. “The mood's ruined, Hobs.”

“Goddamnit.” He says, yet he still chuckles against your lips. Letting you go, you stay locked with his eyes while walking backwards towards the stairs. “Where are you goin'?” There's a growing smile on yours and Hobie's lips.

“You coming, cowboy?” You ask, and you see him flustered once again. Biting his lip, tapping his foot, and hands on his hips. As you head upstairs, you hear his heavy footsteps follow you; until you feel his arms wrap around you impatiently, carrying you the rest of the way while your laughter rings around the house.

—

Hobie, under the gaze of the sun, with his sweaty work shirt sticking to his skin as he hammers the windowsill in place; fixing the once shoddy workmanship left by the previous owner. You ogle him unabashedly. The ring that was previously hidden under the fabric of his bandana now sits upon his ring finger, you cried when you first saw it there for the first time in five years. He held you then, just like how he cradled you back when he gave the identical one to you.

He clings on the tresses that are filled with dried vines and creaking from his added weight. He hangs precariously, as if he's an expert climber at heart; you can't help but stare at him as he works on your shared home. You suppose you could use the old shakey tresses as your excuse on why you're watching him instead of tilling the land like you're supposed to. Telling him that you're only keeping watch of him just in case he falls so you could catch him. Which is impossible by itself, you'd break all your bones if you tried. But you suppose it'll be alright if it's for him. As if he feels your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, a smile slowly curling on his lips as he spots your form still kneeling on the same spot he left you in twenty minutes ago.

The soil balled up into your hands sits there forgotten. A bag of cherry tomatoes sits next to you, wind almost taking them in its breeze as one passes by. You don't look away when he calls you out after you were caught. Instead, you stare harder, unabashedly winking at him. To which earns a hearty laugh from Hobie who almost falls from his bout of laughter.

You stagger, hands raised towards him as if you can catch him from where you are. “Careful!”

Hobie continues to laugh, calming your worries. “‘m alright, you should watch your tomatoes—” a strong wind picks up, with summer almost completely gone as the colder breeze carries your bag of seeds away from you. “And there it goes!” His guffaw fades from behind as you scramble for the seeds.

“Fuck!” You yell, hand placed on your sun hat so it doesn't get blown away. Despite you running at full speed towards what could be next season's meal, you smile widely, you're at peace here.

Hobie follows after you, running and catching up to you in a mad dash. “Hurry slowpoke!” He passes you, laughing as he goes.

“Slowpoke?! C’mere you little—!” Hobie suddenly stops and then turns around to catch you mid sprint. Your body slams into him, earning a grunt from Hobie, but his smile stays as he holds you in his arms.

“Gotcha!” He embraces you in place, face nudging your shoulder fondly.

“You're all sweaty!” You shriek out happily, hand placed upon his waist, fists clumped in his shirt. The seeds belong to the wind now, you suppose.

“You're no better! You're covered in dirt, lovie!” Hobie playfully wipes his cheeks on your airy shirt, leaving streaks of sweat on the soft linen. You laugh louder, trying to scramble away. And he feels like he has finally found his home in your arms.

You wipe your soil marred hands on his shoulders, leaving your hand prints on his once pristine shirt. You suddenly stop giggling, Hobie thinks he did something wrong until he follows your line of sight. There, a few ways away from the two of you, stands a black dog eating from your bag of seeds.

“Is that a coyote?” You ask, still holding on to him.

“Don't think so.” He whispers back.

“She shouldn't eat that, it might get her sick.” You untangle yourself from Hobie, and then you slowly make your way towards said dog. Hobie stops you halfway, hand gently on your shoulder.

“It might bite you.” He roams his eyes over to her black coat and long tail, her ears are floppy on the side of her head as she continues to munch on the crunchy seeds. There's no collar or any indication that she has an owner, she looks fine and somewhat healthy. Before he could take you away just in case the dog decides that you're a better meal, you're running back towards the house in a mad dash. “Where are you goin'?”

“I'm getting some jerky!”

“What? Why?!” He yells back as you get further and further away.

“Just stay there and watch her!” Your dusty boots are already stomping away inside as Hobie does what you told.

Hobie crouches down, elbows sitting atop his knees, watching the dog chow down. The black labrador pauses from eating from the presence watching her, head peeking out from the bag. Her dark eyes blink at Hobie, he waits for her, hand reaching out in a friendly manner and trying not to scare her away with any sudden movements. The dog sniffs, tail slowly wagging as she walks forward.

You watch from behind, eyes growing wider as you see Hobie let the dog sniff at his hand. When she finally lets him pet her head, Hobie looks back at you with a soft smile.

“Look at you, you're an animal whisperer.”

“Nah, I bet she was just hungry and knows how to swindle.”

Chuckling, you saunter towards them slowly, kneeling beside Hobie, you place the dried meat beside her. “There you go, it's better than some seeds.”

Hobie observes how you gently smile at the friendly dog as she tentatively sits in front of the meat. You let the dog approach you, waiting patiently as she eats until there's none left. She sniffs your knee, nudging you with her snout. He laughs as you surrender the rest of the beef jerky.

It's a peaceful silence of him and you just sitting there on the dry grassy ground while the strange dog eats his entire supply of jerky. He suppose he can always run to the general store for more.

The sun is high up, yet it's a comfortable heat on his skin. He preferred summers here, the searing heat always kept him awake and alert. But with you now here, he prefers how the cooling wind nips at his skin, how the leaves are now turning into sunsets that you always adore. And how much you wake up clinging to his side every morning. He prefers this, living with you, finally experiencing life again as if he picked up a book from where he left off years ago; it took some time and a lot of hurt to get here, but he would've done it all over again if it ended just like this. Maybe he'd do better, maybe he would make better decisions— for now, instead of lamenting about all the things that have happened, he'd rather stay in the present where you're currently in.

“I think we should keep her.” You say after a few moments. Hobie just now noticed how the dog now lays on your lap, probably sleeping off her meal. Your hand rubs softly on her back, eyes shining under the sun. “My aunt never let me have pets, she said that a proper lady shouldn't smell of wet dog.”

“Look at you now, covered in dirt, sweat and dog slobber.”

“She'd fucking die.” You laugh, it's the first time you've ever laughed after mentioning her. You finally feel like the shackles of her memory are starting to loosen up against your ankles.

Your happy laughter is slowly replaced with a sob, Hobie, with tears in his own eyes, holds you against him. Arms enveloping you, hands cradling your head as if the simple movement would take it all away. He wishes it did, but he knows that it will take time, and he'll wait, and be there for you no matter how long it takes. Even if it doesn't fully go away.

Under the sunshine of autumn, dry blades of grass underneath you, breeze whispering and carrying your sobs into the wind; Hobie holds you like nothing else matters, like it's just you and him, him and you against the bloody, forsaken world.

—

Clover the dog has taken upon you, you named her after the first piece of clover that sprouted along the property after you and Hobie toiled away for weeks just trying to keep it all alive. You've both fallen into a routine, you two wake up later than you both intended, snuggling under the thick covers. Always rushing through the routine to have more time to tend the house. You share chores, you cook in the morning while he cooks dinner. He fixes the house, while you try to revive the farmland. At night, you check all his previous injuries for any signs of it opening up; and he does it to you too, as gentle and careful like you were. All in all, you're proud of what you two have accomplished.

It's your very own borrowed heaven.

The house is now fully painted a soft blue; the same shade you both saw when you crossed the ocean to this new land. The door that was once a murky, muddy brown is now in a snowy white that matches the windows and picket fences. The fences aren't complete yet, the rest are still laying next to the barn where Cherry and Bucky hunker down every night after an energetic ride around their pen that used to be covered in piles of old wood and metal scraps. It took an entire week to clean it up even with the combined powers of you, Hobie, and Riri, who decided to pay you two a visit from time to time. She said that she was only making sure that the ‘loser’ hasn't hurt you in any way. To which Hobie promptly rolled his eyes and threw a plank of wood at her feet, to his words ‘make yourself useful instead of being a pain in my own home.’ You joked that he's starting to sound like one of those old men who would chase people out of their property if someone would step a foot onto his grass. And of course he had to call you grandma for the rest of the day in front of Riri because of it.

You sigh in content, smiling eyes roaming along the greener grass from the porch where you sit; and following along bucky and cherry who are running freely around their paddock. Clover huffs in your lap, and you chuckle, wondering what she's dreaming about. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves in the trees, and carrying it in its breeze. The swing under you shifts from the strong wind, hinges creaking along as you push with your socked feet. Hobie built you this swing right on the porch when he found you looking at the stars with your back aching from the lack of a seat. To add to it, he made it so that it'll fit you and him together with Clover sleeping on your lap.

You cover yourself more with Hobie's jacket, shivering slightly, nose and fingers cold. There's a sudden warmth on your cheek, you don't flinch or gasp from the surprise, knowing that it's Hobie with a warm cup of tea.

“Hi,” you smile up, Hobie returns the grin. He looks softer, edges rounded up. He's fresh from a bath, skin smelling of lavender and citrus. He prefers to wear softer and fleecy clothes now, leaving all the leather behind unless he's going for a ride towards town. Now he likes wearing knitted jackets that keeps him warm and comfortable without the stiffness of leather. He prefers jeans now too, and shirts with no collars that clings to his scar uncomfortably. A testament to how the first two buttons on his work shirt are unbuttoned, showing off his chest. “You look handsome.”

“When do I not?” He holds your cup in one hand and a glass of amber in the other. The golden ring in his ring finger shines in the afterglow.

You tilt your head playfully, taking his glass instead of the mug, eyes never leaving his own. He raises a brow when you take a sip from the glass, feeling the burn from the alcohol line your throat. “You're right, never. You always look good.” Your words are only for him and him only as you whisper it.

“Damn right.” He accepts defeat, letting you drink his whiskey while he drinks from your mug of tea. Clinking his glass against your own, you let out a snort, scooching to allow him space as he sits.

The warm liquid seeps into his calloused hands, eyes flicking over to you and between the land that he once thought was barren. Your plants still haven't borne fruit, but the greenery has sprouted like a miracle on dead soil. You almost gave up on the first month when nothing was working in your favour when the ground was still dry and grey. But you didn't, you kept at it everyday, tilling the soil, planting and replanting, watering everything until a single sprout appeared overnight. You jumped for joy when you saw, he still smiles remembering you running towards him with Clover in tow, and slamming yourself against him just to snog him until he was breathless.

He couldn't have made this into a house without you. This wouldn't be a home without you either.

You poke his cheek, feeling how much softer it is than before. “Whatever you're thinking about, stop it.”

“You want me to stop thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

You groan with a smile, head plopping down on his shoulder. “You never fail to rile me up.”

“Pot meet kettle, love.” He looks at you lovingly, like how a man would stare into the eyes of his wife.

Smiling, you place the mouth of your glass on his lips, letting him sip from the amber while he does the same with his tea placed on your own lips. You both drink, arms crossed over the other, lending each other's hand over the other.

You gulp down the warmth, letting it seep through your bones and muscles, letting it relax into you like a hug from a beloved.

Meanwhile, Hobie never let his eyes off you. Deep green eyes, the same colour as the sea of clovers in front of the home, has found its place on your lips, watching you drink from his cup while he drinks from your own.

A comfortable silence settles over the three of you. Clover snores on your lap, happy and content after finding her home. Hobie's hand kneads at your nape, letting his cool hands settle over your warm skin. With your head placed on his shoulder, you bask in your personal paradise. The birds chirp just a few ways away from you, finding their nests settled on the windmill that you two haven't fixed just yet. The sunset paints the entire farm in shades of orange and pink, hues of autumn blanketing the peaceful place you and Hobie built.

This is home, not the marbled walls of the manor you used to reside. Not the fine silks you used to sleep on, *this is home; with it's rough edges, broken pipes that groan in the night, with its walls made from wood and brick that feels cold on your skin— it's home, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You feel him shift closer to you, lips pressing softly against your temple. His hand tracing above your scar. “Shoulder feelin’ alright?”

Humming, you close your eyes as he peppers kisses from your temple down to your wind whipped cheek. “It's feeling much better now, thanks to you.” He takes your glass and places it down on the floor right next to his own mug.

“I didn't do much.” Hobie chuckles, returning to your side not a moment longer, his knuckles brushes along your collarbone. “‘sides, you did all the healin’”

You sigh, eyes meeting up with his own. He can see love in your simple gaze. “Yeah, only because you've cleaned it every night before bed.” Hobie chuckles when you poke his stomach, in return, he nudges his nose against your own, earning a soft hum of approval from you. “How's your head? And everything else?” You narrow your eyes playfully, “can you still count to a hundred?”

His loud guffaw makes you laugh. Shaking his head, he pulls you closer. “It's good,” he says against your lips, breath fanning across your soft skin. “I've got a good nurse.”

“Your nurse didn't go to school for it.” You joke again. Hobie pecks your lips once, twice, until you're pulling him in by his shirt. You feel his smile throughout it all. He kisses you gently, yet he holds you like he's about to lose you.

The much needed kiss is interrupted by Clover sneezing on your lap, snot covering your flowy skirt. You pull away with a laugh, eyes still closed as his fingers still grips your chin, already feeling him pull you in once again.

“Hobie.” You call while he continues to snog you, kissing along the shape of your lips, etching how your lips feel, and how you sigh against him; how you kiss back wholeheartedly.

He hums, murmuring your name while the sound of his kisses echo around the porch and atop the songs of birds flying overhead.

You giggle as his searing hands find its way under your shirt and onto your stomach. He pauses, eyes blinking slowly at you. You clamp down, shining lips shut closed as he raises a brow.

“What? You ticklish now?” Hobie asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You shake your head with a smile. “Nope.”

There's a grin slowly forming on his equally shiny lips. “I think I need to reacquaint myself, I don't remember you being ticklish—” he pokes your side. “—right ‘ere.”

You gasp in feigned offense, “I'm not!”

“You sure ‘bout that?” Wiggling his fingers, you laugh, reaching for his hands before he could attack.

“Okay! Only on that part.” You confess with a breathy laugh. He nods, tucking that information inside his head to be used one day.

Hobie returns to his drink, opting to sip at what was supposed to be your tea. The tea is now tepid, but he still drinks it anyway. You push the swing with your feet, softly, the swing sways back and forth while Clover lays asleep with your hand petting her head.

“We should take Riri up on her offer.” You say into the growing dark of the farm, watching the sun go further down and the light fade away. “It's been three months since she first invited us over.”

“She can wait,” Hobie has latched himself on you, arm snaked around your middle as he finishes his tea.

“Want to hog me all to yourself then?”

“That obvious?” He glances at your beaming face before his eyes stare at Bucky and Cherry trotting inside the barn on their own. Sometimes he thinks those two are actually humans trapped inside a horse's body. He has never seen smarter horses than them.

“Are you worried? About me getting back out there?” You play with the button of his work shirt, letting his scent waft over you when a breeze carries it towards you.

“What if…” Hobie sighs, eyes staring at you with worry. It's a grip taking hold around his body. “What if someone finds us again?” He remembers all the times you two were found by both the law and your aunt’s hired guns even when he took extra precautions. There's still that looming threat especially with how suspiciously peaceful your journey to the farm was. He has every right to be worried, you are too. “As much as good you are with a gun, I don't want to see you shootin’ it at someone again. ‘m… not tryin’ to control you, I just—”

You hold his cheek, thumb brushing along his jaw tenderly, feeling all the tiny scars left on his skin. “No, I understand. You're not like them, Hobie. No one will ever control me ever again.” At your words, he leans towards your touch, hand lifting up to meet with yours. “I won't let them.” Nodding, he kisses your palm, you notice how his hand shakes above your own. You don't mention it. “It's been five months since the train, they might have given up.”

“Let's hope so.” He softly says, green eyes gazing at you. Eyes that haven't seen peace in years, until now.

“Yeah, hope.” It's a fickle thing, but it's enough to light a fire in you. If they come, you'll fight with everything you've got. You've got everything to lose now, and you're willing to wield a gun once more to protect it all. If not, then it'll be a gift that you won't throw away, you'd live here peacefully, live the life you've always longed for. You're afraid that it would be the former.

—

You saddle up the horses in the barn, Buckeye watches your every move as you strap the saddle over to Cherry. There’s worry in his inky eyes, a look that you're all too familiar with. Clover runs around the barn, sniffing everything she comes across.

“You alright there, Buck? What's got you all worried, huh?” You don't expect him to answer, but he neighs in response, a sharp one that has you raising a brow. You've never heard him make that irritated sound. “What's gotten into you?” As you slide your hands down on Cherry's stomach to finish the saddle, Bucky, neighs loudly, hooves thumping against the ground. He looks like he's about to rush into you and throw you over. “Bucky, calm down!” You put your hands up, staying away from both horses.

“Buckeye!” Hobie's booming voice ricochets around the barn as he enters, putting a stop to Bucky's tantrum. Even Clover stops running for a second before returning to her adventure. “What's gotten into you, boy?” He pets his snout, effectively calming him down.

“I was putting on Cherry's saddle and he suddenly got mad.”

“He looks alright.” Nodding, Hobie roams his eyes all over his horse, checking each of his horse shoes in case there's something embedded in his feet. “Nothin’s wrong with him. What about Cherry? He's been overprotective of her lately.”

“Ah shit, do you think I put it on too tight?” Hobie keeps his hold on Bucky's reins, just in case. You check all the belts and buckles on the saddle, finding the fit just right. Until you get to her stomach. “Wait—” hands roaming around, you feel a bump. “What is that?” Cherry looks at you, if horses could raise their brow, she would've done it already. “Are you—?!” You gasp, eyes meeting with Hobie. Glaring at the horse next to him, you embrace Cherry. “Bucky, what did you do to Cherry!”

He already knows what you found. “I think it was a combined effort, love.” Scratching the back of Bucky's ear, Hobie chuckles at your reaction. “You did not waste time, huh, boy?”

“She's smaller than him!” You look at Bucky as if he can explain himself, to which the horse just huffs at you. Hobie keeps patting Buckeye on his back, while Cherry isn't even listening in on the conversation anymore. She prefers the pile of hay next to her, eating without a care.

“And? You are too compared to me.” Hobie unabashedly answers for Bucky. You gasp then laugh, a laugh that changes to a playful offended chortle. You grab a bucket from the ground, ready to throw it at him.

“You should run, Hobie!” Before you could finish yelling, Hobie's already sprinting back inside the house. You run after him, bucket in hand, ready to throw carrots at him.

Hobie waits for carrots to be pelted at him, only to turn around to see you gawking at the planted vegetable patch before you. He stops by the steps on the porch, hands on his hips as you let go of the bucket with a thud.

“What's wrong?”

“They've grown.” You whisper in disbelief, Hobie almost didn't catch your words. Chuckling, you look at Hobie with tears in your eyes. “We’ve got tomatoes!” Pouncing on him, he catches you, arms holding you in place while you celebrate against his neck.

He roams his eyes downwards towards the tomatoes until he spots a handful of it just under a bunch of leaves. “Holy shit!” Hand behind your head, he jumps up and down, matching your excitement. “You did it, love!”

You lean away, and then immediately peppers his face with a dozen kisses, leaving him almost dizzy. Before he could kiss back, you're already back on the ground, plucking the ripest looking one. It's as big as your hand, red and plump; ripe for the taking. All the countless times you've read botany books have finally borne fruit.

Wiping the dirt off of the tomato on your shirt, you hand it to him. “Wanna do the honors?”

“This is all you, lovie.” He gently places it back in your palm, hand lingering on yours; identical rings shining brightly.

You nod as thanks, heart beating rapidly. With a tentative bite, you let the juice coat your mouth, overflowing until it's dripping from your chin. It's perfect, and Hobie thinks you look perfect even with juice sliding down your chin and arm.

“Do you want a room? Because I can go.” Hobie jokes, you laugh heartily.

“Here,” you say, mouth full. “Try it.”

Hobie takes it, biting down just as the same as you, with juices flowing down his arm and onto his shirt. “Fuck!”

You nod rapidly, pride filling your chest. “Right?!”

“Y/N,” he calls, mouth still taking bites of the produce. Gesturing towards the neighboring plants, he watches as your expression morphs into pure elation when you spot your potatoes growing out of the soil, like bald heads peeking out from underneath.

There's dozens of them all lined up and ready to be harvested. You almost guffaw, satisfied and successful at growing something on the once thought barren land.

“We're gonna need a basket.” Perhaps your trip to Riri's saloon will have to wait.

—

The trip to town took longer since Cherry was out of commission, and you only had Bucky to take with you on the ride. By the time you and Hobie make it to Riri's saloon, lunch was in full swing. The place is smaller compared to the other establishments you've been in, and yet, it doesn't lack the energy. Customers line the bar, eating and drinking their fill. Jaunty music fills your ears just as when the saloon doors close behind you, Hobie's hand is placed on the small of your back, fingertips pressing softly, leading you towards the far end of the saloon where the bar is placed.

You roam your eyes around, the band plays on a stage in your right, cello, fiddles and trumpets play alongside the piano. Customers dance around with their partners, smiling faces whizz past you, giving you a polite greeting as you go. There are numerous tables littered around with the people sitting there and chatting energetically, their conversations rising above the music.

A hearty laugh above reaches your ears, when you look up, you see a spiral staircase that leads to the second floor with a balcony. A few patrons look down at you with their drinks in their hands, some are watching the poker game with amusement in their eyes. Drinking glasses clink around while you continue to make your way towards Riri who happens to be tending the bar.

The walls are in a creamy white with rows upon walls of paintings full of portraits and landscapes. There's a giant moose antler above the bar, looming over everyone. The place smells of booze and whiskey. Oddly enough, the scent of melted chocolate lingers above the fog of rum and moonshine. A crystal chandelier hangs high up on the ceiling, the centerpiece of the saloon. Sunlight from the windows filters through the brightly coloured glass, drenching the walls and floor with a kaleidoscope of light.

“Hey, Hobie!” Someone yells from above, Hobie gives them a curt nod. A handful of people recognize him, some greet him kindly like an old friend would. Some gaze at him with trepidation in their eyes.

A stranger with an eyepatch clasps his shoulder before staggering outside. Hobie chuckles and rolls his eyes at the older man.

“Someone's popular.” You whisper.

“A side effect of my reputation.” He smiles gently, fingers tapping on the small of your back. Leading you towards the corner of the bar, the far end where the back door sits behind it; he settles the two of you there, further away from strangers that could make you uncomfortable.

“Finally!” Riri exclaims, “the prodigal son returns!” Everyone at the bar hoots and whistles at Hobie. He ignores each of them, earning some booing and hissing from the crowd. You chuckle from seeing Hobie hide his smile under the brim of his hat. Riri slides in front of you, beer bottle in hand and then plops it in Hobie's waiting hand. “And with the prettiest girl this side of town has ever seen. What have you two been up to in your little slice of heaven, huh? Haven't seen you in months.”

“Busy with the farm.” Hobie says against the lip of his bottle, hand never leaving your back.

“Farm? Your dirt farm? You sure it's not you getting busy with our girl here, eh, Hobs?” Riri gives you a knowing look, you're flustered enough as it is. Hobie just shakes his head, eyes roaming everywhere but your eyes or Riri's.

You clear your throat. “We actually managed to grow something out there. We've got tomatoes, potatoes and even some carrots and strawberries blooming.” Your genuine smile turns Riri's playful one to a proud grin. “We'd bring you some of our harvest but we only rode on Bucky. We didn't want to stress him out further.”

“Why's that?” Riri cleans a glass with a cloth, “Is Cherry sick? We've got a veterinarian here for that.”

“No, she's pregnant.”

“Goddamn, Bucky did not waste any time.”

Hobie nods, “that's what I said.”

“Let's hope his rider doesn't do the same, eh?” She sends you both a wink.

“Fuckin' hell, Riri.” Hobie squeezes the bridge of his nose whilst you're left blubbering from her words. “Is there lunch left for us?” He says with a sigh.

“If you're nice about it, yeah.” Riri looks over at you. “Except for you, pretty, there's always a meal here for you.” You smile, head tilting towards Hobie's shoulder from bashfulness.

“Roast beef still on the menu?” Hobie asks, bottle half empty, stomach growling.

“Say please.” Riri says pointedly.

Hobie huffs, flicking his eyes towards you briefly before surrendering. “...please.”

Riri smirks, “it's always on the menu.” Hobie rolls his eyes at that.

He pokes your back, knuckles tracing around where he poked you. “How ‘bout you? Riri's chef can cook anythin’ you want.”

“Don't steal my words, Hobie.” Riri raises a brow. “Karl can make you anything you want.”

You laugh nervously at the eyes staring and waiting for you. “Uh, I'll have what he's having. And…” Hobie encourages you with a smile and a squeeze on your back. “Soup, any kind of soup you've got available.”

Riri pats the back of your hand with a soft smile. “We've got pumpkin, is that alright?”

“It's perfect.” You turn towards Hobie who's beaming at you, hiding his face with the brim of his hat from the rest of the customers.

—

You watch and listen with a smile in your seat, hand clasped around a glass of orange juice. The band ramps up their set, the music has gotten jauntier and happier right after you finished eating. More people have left the bar to either dance or play poker upstairs. Hobie still sits behind you, fingers curled around your belt loop lovingly. You feel him tapping rhythmically to the sound of the snare drum.

Looking over your shoulder, he nods at you with a soft smile. “They're good, aren't they?” You ask, chin atop your shoulder.

“Yeah, but I think you can beat them.”

You roll your eyes with a chuckle, fully twisting around on the bar stool to wipe a drop of sauce at the tip of his chin, fingers lingering there for a moment. “It's not a competition, Hobs.”

Before Hobie could give a reply, Riri slides over with a slice of chocolate cake. “You know how to play?”

You eye the dessert. “The piano, but I haven't practiced in a while.”

“She's bein’ humble. She's bloody brilliant on the keys.” Hobie takes the plate from Riri with a quick thank you, and then he places it in front of you casually.

You almost protested, thinking that Hobie yanked another customer's order. But Riri proves your thoughts wrong when she, herself, hands you a small fork for your dessert. You mumble a soft thank you, too shy, too grateful to say it louder lest you burst into tears. The cake has chocolate swirls with a large, plump strawberry on top of it. You don't waste time digging in.

“Isn't there an old broken piano at your place?” Riri continues the conversation, eyes flicking to your happy face with a soft smile.

“Yeah, been thinkin’ ‘bout fixin’ the damn thing but I have no idea how.” You almost actually cried on your cake when Hobie said those words.

“I think old man Roberto can fix it.” You savour the cake, listening in on the conversation.

“Your pianist?”

“Yeah, he's a doctor too, did you know that? Pretty great if you ask me—” Riri pauses, you follow her confused look. You see Hobie's stony expression, green eyes aflame like greek fire engulfing an entire fleet of ships. You and Riri have the same idea by following his gaze. She clears her throat at the sight, while you only see a broad shouldered man on the stairs, watching the band play.

“You okay?” You feel worried all of a sudden, what if this was another Culver situation? “Do you know him?”

“An old…acquaintance. Don't worry, he just owes me money.” Patting your back, he doesn't want to lie to you. What would that even bring?

“Oh, alright.” You slide the plate over to him. “I saved you some cake.”

Hobie chuckles, “nah, it's all yours, love.”

“Thank you,” you take the plate back. “I was just being nice.” Hobie shakes his head with a chuckle, you miss how he's having a silent conversation with Riri while you chow down.

“What did you even put in this, Riri? It's so fucking good!” With your fork, you scrape the plate to gather the rest of the chocolate icing. You have no shame at this point, it's the best cake you've ever had.

Riri takes a while to reply, so you lift your head up to see what's going on. You're met with her genuine smile. “Don't thank me, thank my grandma, it's a family recipe.”

“Well, thank you, Riri's grandma.”

Hobie stares at something behind you, Riri interrupts you before you could look over your shoulder. “Do you want to meet the band?”

“Holy shit! Really?” You grin from ear to ear, turning to see Hobie give you a nod and a small smile. “Do I have something in my teeth?” You grin widely, Hobie shakes his head, amused by you.

“Yeah, they're really nice. Come on, let's get you acquainted.” Riri jumps over the bar effortlessly, taking you by the hand and leading you towards the dance floor.

“I'll be back, Hobie!” You excitedly say over your shoulder as Riri twirls you around in the middle of the crowd. Hobie chuckles in his seat, drinking a cup of tea. He hears Riri ask you to dance, to which you happily agree.

Hobie keeps an eye on you, and he trusts Riri to keep you safe until he's done dealing with him. Hobie watches as Miguel saunters off towards him, spurs clinking as he sits down on your seat.

“Looks like Riri took your girl.” He says while ordering a beer from the other bartender.

“Why didn't you tell me that it was her, Miguel?”

Miguel catches the drink in his open palm as the bottle slides from the other end to his hand. “Simple, I didn't know who she was.” He cracks it open by banging the cap against the edge of the bar. The metal clanks on the floor as it falls.

“Bullshit, O’Hara.” Hobie says through clenched teeth.

“She has a sweet tooth doesn't she?” He refers to your almost clean plate.

“Miguel.” Hobie utters more pointedly, taking the beer from his hand before he even takes a sip. “Why didn't you tell me it was her?”

Miguel sighs, “I didn't know it was her. But I had a hunch. People at camp talk y’know. And you're a blabber mouth when you're drunk. A deadly combination.” He eyes his beer bottle, Hobie waits for more answers. “The guy who gave me the job just gave me her description. The same description I gave you, Hobie. Not my fault you didn't recognize her.”

“Who gave it to you?”

Miguel flexes his hand, asking for his drink back. Hobie clenches his jaw before sliding the bottle back to him reluctantly. “You should thank me. I got you two together again.”

“Just tell me, Miguel, or I'll ask for that bounty you owe me.”

“You technically didn't complete the job, so…” Hobie stares at him with the same look that Miguel has only seen him sport when he has his target in his crosshairs. “It was a middleman. He said his boss was an oil baron of some kind.” He’s about to take a sip, but doesn't. Grimacing when he brings the bottle back down to only see Hobie having the same fiery look. It brings a shiver down his spine. “Can you stop?”

“Who?”

“Don't know, didn't ask.”

“She could've died, Miguel.” That thought has him trembling in place. Hobie balls his fists, hiding how the mere thought of it shakes him to his core.

“She would've died either way, Hobie. But she had you, if I gave the job to any other person, she would've. Trust me, I did not know it was her, or that you even knew her. It's not like I made her come here.”

Hobie inhales sharply. “It wasn't you who sent the letter?”

“What fucking letter?”

“I sense some tension in the air. You know, conducting business in my establishment isn't allowed. Except if you involve me.” Riri jumps to Miguel's side, taking the beer from his hand, chugging it as sweat drips from her brow. With a sigh, Miguel orders another beer.

“Where's Y/N?” Hobie answers his own question when he sees you playing the piano with the rest of the band. His lips curl up into a smile, fists unclenching at the music you're playing. You're having the time of your life.

“Relax, Romeo, she's fine.” Riri claps to the rhythm. Hobie hears your hearty laugh from where he's sitting. The saloon's band seems to be having fun too.

In Hobie's mind, everything clicks in place. “It was you who sent my letter.” Hobie jabs his finger on Riri's shoulder blade.

She snorts, “of course it was me. I couldn't handle your sulking any longer. Seriously, I was losing customers because of your weekly letter writing and crying session.”

Miguel laughs, he sees Hobie's glare and tamps down to a snicker. Riri leans in the bar to yank a bottle of whiskey from underneath the shelves.

“Why?”

“You weren't happy being a lone ranger.”

Hobie feels like lightning struck him. “Fuckin' hell, Riri, you could've said somethin'. Warned me ‘bout it.”

“And? You'd somehow find it in your heart to immediately forgive her and pick her up from the docks?” Riri pours the whiskey inside three glasses, handing it to each of the men. “You’re like a brother to me, Hobie. We came up in this fuckwad’s gang—” she points at Miguel who's caught in the middle. He just pinches the bridge of his nose. “—at the same time. Do you think I'd let you wallow and die alone in that dirt farm of yours?”

Hobie doesn't answer. He knows that the journey was needed. But if Riri actually warned him about it beforehand, would you be here right now? Or would you be dead somewhere along your journey to him because he couldn't find it in his heart to come to you?

“See? Not everything's my fault. Just a freak coincidence.” Miguel pipes up, now eating a slice of cake just as you have.

Riri ignores him. “I know you had a slight apprehension towards her because of what happened.”

“She could've died, Riri. When I found her, she was trying to steal food.”

Riri breathes shakily, eyes glossing over. “And I'm sorry for that, truly. I never thought that would happen, or that her people would put a bounty on her. I only knew her from you, Hobie. I'm sorry. And I'll apologize to her, I promise.”

“She's really good on that piano.” Miguel comments before returning to his cake. Hobie and Riri continue to ignore him.

Hobie sucks in his teeth. “‘Slight apprehension’ didn't cut it back then.” He whispers.

Riri looks at him with a frown, eyes downturned. She knows his story, and she knows his side of it. “You know when I was a kid I used to hate the edges on bread. I always asked my mom to cut it off for me which added more workload for her, but she still did it.” She smiles fondly. “And now as an adult I love the edges, it's the best part of the bread for me.”

“What are you sayin'?”

“I'm saying that people change. And I'm not just referring to her.” Hobie understands her double entendre.

Hobie scoffs, stealing a quick glance at you. “It's bread, Riri.”

“I can see that she may have thought you were a burden back then but I highly doubt she has the same thoughts now.” Riri takes a sip from her glass. “How would you even know that you were a burden to her when the exact words didn't come out of her own mouth?”

“She told me it wasn't her, I know that now. It was all Hicks, the same fucker that did this to me.” Miguel straightens in his seat, Riri flicks her eyes at his scar knowingly. “They're still lookin’ for her, I know it.”

“If they ever find you both, we have your back.” Riri clasps Hobie's shoulder. He holds her hand briefly before letting go with a thankful nod. “It's the least I can do.” Miguel agrees with a grunt and a pat on his gun.

“It's more than enough, Ri.”

You wave towards Hobie from the small stage, jumping down to walk past the crowd and to him. Hobie's heart feels a little bit lighter from the conversation, like a bullet taken out from his skin.

Miguel stands up, and then pats Hobie and Riri in the shoulder before putting his hat back on. His hazel eyes meet with yours for a second, you give him a polite smile as you navigate your way out of the jam-packed audience.

Miguel fixes his hat, eyes zeroing in on the ring around Hobie's finger. “Nice ring. You two tied the knot without inviting me and the rest of the gang?” You pause by the menu, acting like something caught your eye while you listen in. The saloon is noisy enough for his words to be muffled, but you understood it perfectly.

“Not really,” Hobie glances towards you for a second before flicking his eyes over at his ring that he keeps twisting and turning around his finger.

“Well you've got everything else covered. And I've seen the way you look at her. If that's not marriage, I don't know what is.” Miguel clasps Hobie's shoulder in a parting goodbye, his face is unreadable from where you are. Miguel leans in closer this time, hazel eyes staring into Hobie's soul. His expression turns serious, lips pursed into a thin line, whispering words that you couldn't hear from where you stood. “You gonna tell her all the things you've done to survive this place?”

Hobie stands up to greet you halfway. “Worse, she has seen it.” Miguel leaves, and Hobie holds your hand with a proud smile, but you can tell something happened while you were gone. He sees it, so he leads you back to the bar where Riri waits to tell you everything.

“Did he pay you back?”

“Nah, he didn't have the money on him.”

“What an asshole.” He laughs, not bothering to hide his affection for you in front of the whole saloon any longer.

—

You lean back, smiling at the lavender sunset before you. Hobie's hands are occupied with the reins, but he still finds the time to nuzzle his chin on your shoulder. A small act that has you grinning as you cup his cheek for a moment.

Riri's confession was a surprise to you, but after the shock ended, you couldn't help but let out a loud guffaw in the saloon. You stood out like a sore thumb whilst Hobie rubs your back from how much you were laughing. You even thanked Riri for what she did on Hobie's behalf, to which she sighed in relief from your reaction. If she didn't send that letter, you'd still be in that wretched place, you'd still be half dead, surviving but not living. The journey to Hobie was tough and marred with pain and bloodshed, and yet, you'd take that journey all over again if you knew that he'd be holding you like this once again; that he still loves you despite everything that has happened to him and to you. With a parting hug, and a promise that you'll visit again, you and Hobie set off back on the road towards home.

The route home is filled with an abundance of scenery. Fields of flowers and tall grass line the sides of the bumpy dirt road. Daisies, poppies and baby's breath are in full bloom, its colours bringing even more brightness to the land. Cows and horses graze all over, they look up at the sound of Bucky's hooves thudding against the soil.

Hobie gathers up the reins in one hand, arm holding on to your waist before bending down from his saddle. Buckeye still gallops away as you immediately try to get a hold of Hobie before he falls.

“What are you doing?!” You ask, voice shaky, eyes up front while he has his palm open, gathering flowers on the side of the road.

“Just hold onto me!” Numerous flowers gather in his hand, its petals are filled with dew, sweet smelling and colourful against his leather gloves. Some of the stems are broken from the motion of the galloping horse. But you don't mind as he sends you a wink while he's on the side like he's doing the most mundane thing.

Laughing, you help pull him up. He hands you the bundle of flowers from behind, lips brushing along the shell of your ear. “That'll be five bucks.”

You giggle, thumb brushing along one of its red petals. “That's expensive for a roadside bouquet.” Hiding your face behind the flowers, you take a whiff of the sweetness whilst you gaze behind you through your fluttering lashes. “I think you're swindeling me, cowboy.”

“Fine,” he dramatically sighs, earning a soft laugh from you. His viridescent eyes remind you of the clovers back home. “I'll give you a discount.”

“A kiss then?”

“I was goin' to say ‘three bucks’ but that works too.” His eyes are on the road, but he briefly gazes into yours with tenderness.

“I'll pay my dues then.” You crane your neck back as far as you can. With a hand running up behind his head, you push him gently to meet with your own for a quick peck. “There, all paid.”

Hobie grins, trying hard not to indulge more lest he crashes Bucky into a tree. “Nah, that was half.”

“Half?” You feign a scoff. “Fine, I'll give it to you in installments.” Your neck is starting to ache from the position, but you can't help but keep still when he even looks this good in this awkward angle.

Bucky slows down, you hear the rush of a body of water before you see it. Hobie clicks his tongue, Buck completely stops from the command. “I'll take it.”

“You're not gonna ask when I'll ‘pay’ you?”

Hobie places his hand around your throat, not clenching, nor digging in; no, he does it to gently straighten your neck to save you from a crick in your nape. You follow willingly, never have you felt this soft kind of grasp around your neck— it's been the opposite before this, before him.

The pads of Hobie's fingers rub along your nape, soothing the growing ache. “Surprise me.”

Your smile grows when you quickly look forward, you see a small dock in a shining lake that's surrounded by oak trees and cattails growing on the side. The water shimmers under the afterglow like diamonds laid upon silk.

Hobie raises his brows with a smile, you're sure he's patting himself on the back. He smoothly gets off his horse with a flourish. With his feet back on the ground, he holds your waist, waiting for you to push yourself off so he could help you down. As if you ever need it, but you sometimes like to be spoiled this way, especially if It's Hobie spoiling you with his affections.

You hold the bouquet against your chest while he looks up at you lovingly, not telling you to hurry up or attempt to yank you off. “They told me that you're so mashed. What does that even mean?”

“Who's they?”

“The band, they said and I quote, ‘that Hobie is properly mashed for you! We've never seen him look at someone like that unless—’” You pause, hands on his wrist, pushing yourself off as he guides you down on the ground carefully. You floated for a moment, you then tuck the flowers in Bucky's saddle bag for safe keeping.

“Unless what?”

You bite your lip to tamp down a laugh. “‘Unless you're one of Riri’s homemade chocolate cakes.’” Poking his chest, you playfully jab him while he has his hands up in mock surrender. “I knew you wanted that cake!”

“It was yours! And I've had it a thousand times before, love.” He grabs your wrists, stopping your poking to pull your hand over his neck so you'd hold him closer. Toe to toe, you close the gap even more by scooching closer.

You poke him with your chin on his clavicle. “And here I thought you were being nice.”

“I was,” Hobie utters against your lips, “don't worry, I ordered one for myself while you were playing on stage.”

You gasp in feigned offense. “You dare?!”

Nodding, Hobie pulls you closer by your wrist. “I dare.” He mocks teasingly.

“Guess I have to jump in the lake to let the waters wash away this betrayal.” Moving away, you walk backwards towards the dock while keeping an eye at him.

Hobie watches you go. The second he steps forward, you sprint away, giggling. Milkweeds and poppies brush along your legs as you run while stripping off your boots and jacket, you then throw it all behind you. The fabric hits Hobie's face, he hears a splash as he yanks it off, laughing with you. Stripping off his coat, belt and boots, he jumps in right after with a louder and bigger splash.

The water is colder than you expected when it hit your skin. But you suppose it's worth staying for a little while even if it means getting a cold. You wipe your face from the splash that hit you, shivering slightly and incredibly happy without a care for the rest of the world.

“Hobie?” You twist around, swimming in a circle to look for him.

Hobie doesn't resurface after his jump, your grin slowly turns into panic when you see bubbles rise up from where he jumped.

“Hobie!” You feel bile rise in your throat, panic and worry settling in your stomach. “Hob—!” You're suddenly lifted up, thighs perched on his shoulder with his head in between. “You ass—!” You see him give you a smirk before tossing you behind with a splash.

He once again lifts you up, by your waist this time. He's met with a glare from you, and he has the audacity to laugh at your face. You splash, wiggling and thrashing in his hold. “‘m sorry! I saw the opportunity!”

“Not funny! I thought you drowned!” Continuing to splash at his face, Hobie embraces you against his chest until you've tired yourself out. You manage to give him one last splash to his face before you gave up, and then you slouch against him.

“Good thing I taught you how to swim, huh?” He softly says, floating around the lake.

“Yeah,” you hide behind the crook of his neck, nose nudging his skin while you try to forget how your aunt reacted when you came home drenched and dripping on her carpets.

“You okay?” Hobie rubs in between your shoulders. “‘m sorry, I thought it was funny.”

You sniff from the cold, leaning away to meet with his eyes. “It was, just don't take too long to resurface.” Smiling, you wipe water droplets off his pierced eyebrow. “Remember the day you convinced me to let you teach me how to swim?”

“Yeah, I told you that you wouldn't be able to swim if the ship you're on capsizes.”

“It scared the shit out of me.”

“‘m sorry that scared you.”

“Stop apologizing,” you cup his jaw, feeling his stubble, “besides, we ended up here years later. It's a good ending.”

“Yeah, a good ending.” He fixes your blouse, laying the collar flat so the edge doesn't poke your eye out. Noticing your far off stare behind him, he imagines the worst. But when he turns, he sees a huge deer with large antlers drinking from the side of the lake. “Holy shit.” Hobie moves, but you stop him so he doesn't startle the deer.

It continues to drink calmly. A bush from the side shakes, Hobie almost went for his gun but he's proven wrong when a white tailed doe appears.

“She's gorgeous,” you whisper, hugging him from behind while you watch the doe drink next to the deer. “Do you think they know each other?”

“Maybe.” He doesn't believe his eyes, “maybe they're mates.”

You kiss his cold cheek. “You think so?”

With your hands intertwined with his own underwater, he pulls you closer until there's no space left in between. He once dreamed to be this close to you, now that he's skin to flesh with you, he will never let go. He'd rather be buried alive again rather than be apart with you.

The deer nudges the doe's head before they gallop away from the lake. Hobie sniffs, finger brushing along your ring. “Yeah, they are.”

—

The sun has fully set now, dark blue engulfing you with the night howling its cold breeze against your wet skin. The large oak tree behind you shields you from the harsh wind. It reminds you of the one back home where he carved both of your initials on the trunk. Hobie embraces you from behind, sharing his warmth while you two wait for the clothes on your back to dry before riding home. Bucky sleeps next to you, huffing in his sleep. The bonfire roars, warming you in its orange glow, flames dancing in your vision.

Hobie hasn't taken his fingers off your ring that he rolls around your finger since you sat down. His eyes stare at the fire, shoulders relaxed, yet his jaw is clenched. You think his body is acting on instinct, and is still getting used to the calm.

“You're quiet, I'm worried.” You say, head leaning on his chest, back slouched to look at him.

Hobie raises a brow, eyes glancing down at you before returning back to the fire. “‘m thinkin’.”

“That's a first,” you joke, squeezing his hand. He chuckles, pecking the top of your head once before sighing in your hair. “Okay, now I'm worried. What's wrong?”

“I was thinkin' that we're practically married.” Something flashes behind your eyes that he missed. “We've got the rings, the house, the love and everythin' else.” He can't let Miguel get to him, but he can't get his words out of his mind either. If that's not marriage, I don't know what is.

You give him a soft shaky smile, eyes glossy against the light of the bonfire. Cradling his face, he leans against your palm, placing a heavy kiss on your cool skin. A sob threatens to escape you, clawing at your chest to be let go. You don't let it.

“We kind of are, huh?” He asks, eyes closed while holding your hand against his lips.

“I–it's close.” You manage to choke out. “I suppose we are, Hobs.” Tears collect in your lashes, blurring him in your vision like water colours bleeding in together. “Are you afraid of it?” Of us? You fear waking up one day and finding his side of the bed empty except for a note addressed to you. It's irrational, you know it is.

“No,” he sniffs, “it's the opposite. My fear isn't anywhere near that.”

You blink to clear the tears, letting it fall without a sound. “What are you most afraid of, cowboy?”

Hobie opens his eyes and you're met with a sea of green, shining and glittering just like the lake near you. “You, you're what I'm most afraid of.” You turn to fully face him, body placed in between his legs that comfortably cage you in. You don't let him go even when he burrows his chin on the top of his chest. For a moment, he doesn't say a word, until he sniffs and returns to meet with your eyes. “Losin’ you, seein’ your blood stainin’ my hands.” He holds both of your hands in his own. “That's what I'm afraid of, not my own death, yours. Because I can't live another five years without you. Especially a life lived without you isn't a life well lived.”

You feel his love and all the ache he carried in those five years like never before. He doesn't want to lose the life he built with you here; he doesn't want to lose all the mornings with you, he doesn't want to sleep without you by his side. He doesn't want to lose you.

You never even thought for a moment that you deserve this kind of tenderness after all the hatred that was thrown at you like a hail of firestorm. And yet, here he is, he loves you, the kind of love that reverberates through your very bones and settles into your soul. You still don't think you deserve it, but who are you to deny such love, especially from him? You did not beg for this kind of love, nor prayed for it. It's not the kind of love that the fates or the universe have thrust upon you in a shower of meteors. It was gradual, it came in a trickle and then a wave. And when you two were finally on the same page— you love him with every single bone in your body— you love him intentionally and wholeheartedly.

Kneeling to level with him, hands holding his cheeks, you hope that your simple touch is enough to let him feel all the love and affection you have for the man before you.

With your forehead against his own, you softly utter the same three words you've been telling him every morning and and every night before bed. “I love you.” He nods, whispering the same words atop your lips like a mantra; a song that replays in his head over and over again. You kiss the corner of his lips before leaning away. “I–if that ever happens, I'll live for you. I'll bring back my blood inside me if I have to.” You wipe away his stray tear, “Just promise me you'll do the same.” You know that you won't be able to do anything if it does happen to you, nor he, if it happens to him. They're empty promises meant to fill the holes in your chests for comfort to hold onto— to help ease your minds throughout the night whilst he lays his head upon your chest at night.

The weight of the looming threat feels like a reality. As if someone laid a pillow to his sleeping face. Hobie takes you in his arms, embracing you; hand placed on the back of your head as if he's already trying to shield you from what he fears most.

The mere thought of you loving him so much that you'd defy death itself, and despite the blood underneath his nails has him tethering upon the precipice of paradise. Maybe that's all there is then, to be loved despite the blood staining his hands, and despite his gnashing teeth that could take your flesh if he so desires; that he'll never desire to do to you— It's enough for him to be with you, and for you to be with him until you're both old and frail, until you're both six feet under; behind the same house he made into a home for you.

He has everything to lose, and he'll raise hell itself if need be just to bring you back. *When they come for you, there won't be enough bullets in the world for him.

With determination in his eyes that fans the flames in his chest, he utters an impossible promise on your skin.

“I promise.”

You hug Hobie, hand splayed on his back while the other kneads at his nape. Opening your eyes, you see the same deer and doe on the other side of the lake, standing side by side peacefully with their reflections on the lake. The sounds of the night echo above the glimmering depths of the water. It all brings you hope despite the conversation, they won't find you, that's your hope. You get to stay here forever with him, that's your only wish in this world.

Amidst the swaying grass, and in his arms, you feel infinite. You finally feel like you exist with the gentle wind and the raging rivers. No more do you feel like you burn everyday, where there's ash in your mouth, embers hidden underneath your hands; living in a house built to be kindling in your all consuming flames of loneliness. Earthbound once more, alive again.

[visionmarred-archive]

Xander’s characterization in The Freshman. why couldn’t he have been more consistently written like that. yes I’m still grumpy about so many of his moments throughout the series and mad at his wasted potential

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a piece of cake

© @jamesbrnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list here.

You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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