#i guess this can stand alone so i'll use that tag but it's a part of a larger story

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she/her" pronouns used, asshole ex shows up, first kiss, Sukuna is down bad and so are you A/N: okay I'm obsessed with Sukuna and reader's dynamic, and addicted to adding little Gojo bits bc that's my baby. sooooooo I also actually had smut in this chapter BUT THEN IT WAS LONG AS CRAP. look forward to it next chapter ;) also, if you have been cheated on like I'm writing in this story I'll literally fight them (ง'̀-'́)ง

index part three | part five

part four word count : 4,475

Sukuna couldn’t meet at your usual spot tonight—he had clients to squeeze in at the shop, leaving you to wander home alone. you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment, but exhaustion from the workday quickly took over. by the time you got home, you barely managed to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, letting sleep claim you almost instantly.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sound of knocking at your apartment door jolted you awake. the room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside. rubbing your eyes, you stumbled toward the door, still half-asleep.

standing on your tiptoes, you peered through the peephole, and your breath caught. Sukuna was on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe like he had every reason to be there.

how the hell did he figure out which apartment was yours? you’d only ever pointed him to your building in passing, and he’d never come up the stairs.

hurriedly, you unlocked the door and swung it open, leaning against the frame as you squinted at him. “let me guess—this is the part where you start stalking me and showing up uninvited?” you teased, though your tone held more curiosity than annoyance.

Sukuna smirked, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “took you long enough to open the door, princess. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“forgotten?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “more like I thought you’d finally taken the hint to leave me alone.”

his grin widened, sharp and teasing. “oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that’s not happening.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you. “so? what are you doing here, Sukuna? don’t tell me you came all this way just to annoy me.”

“maybe I just wanted to see you,” he replied smoothly, the teasing edge softening ever so slightly.

that caught you off guard, but before you could reply, he raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “or maybe I figured out you’re terrible at locking your door and thought I’d save you from yourself.”

your lips twitched despite yourself. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here I am,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you gonna let me in, or are we doing this in the hallway?”

against your better judgment—or maybe because of it—you stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. Sukuna sauntered past you, the smugness practically radiating off him as you shut the door behind him.

“make yourself at home, I guess,” you muttered, trying not to focus on the fact that your heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment you’d seen him.

you turned to face him, only to realize Sukuna was standing much closer than before. his crimson eyes bore into yours, the smirk on his face sharper, more intense than you’d ever seen it. the space between you seemed to shrink, the air charged with something electric, something inevitable.

“you’re really going to let me in that easily?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again.

you opened your mouth to respond, maybe to deflect with a teasing remark, but the words never made it out. Sukuna stepped forward, his hand rising to cup your face, tilting your chin up with a deliberate, almost possessive touch. then his lips were on yours.

the kiss was rushed, heated, and completely overwhelming. his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you against him as though he’d been waiting for this moment forever. your fingers clutched at his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under your grip as you melted into him, the rest of the world fading into nothing.

he kissed you like he meant to consume you, his movements bold and unapologetic, leaving no room for hesitation. and you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body moving on instinct, meeting him halfway in a dance that was all fire and no thought.

and it was perfect - until you woke up, still on your couch with the sun only just setting.

you felt like you were going insane. every thought began to revolve around one thing – Sukuna. that asshole had invaded your mind and planted himself firmly in the fucking limbic system of your brain. some guy checks out your ass at work? you imagine what Sukuna would do. you see someone on the street with a tattoo? you wonder if Sukuna did it.

it was getting ridiculous. every night your dreams were accompanied by his wolfish grin, and always ended with you waking up in a flustered sweat. and you hadn’t even seen his dick yet.

you didn’t want to fold that fast, but your urges were becoming stronger every time you saw him. lingering touches, suggestive teasing – last week on a date with Sukuna he leaned down to whisper to you, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear, and your knees went wobbly.

he knew how to play the game, and obviously how to win it.

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it was almost inevitable that you’d find yourself standing in front of Cursed Ink unannounced that night. the bell chimed as you pushed open the shop door, but instead of Sukuna, someone else greeted you.

“ooooh, you’re back!” Gojo’s voice rang out, his trademark grin spreading across his face in an instant. “here to see Suku?”

you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by his energy. Gojo leaned against the counter as he watched you with obvious amusement.

“uh, yeah,” you replied, stepping further inside. “is he around?”

Gojo smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “he’s in the back finishing up a design, but don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.” he tilted his head dramatically, lowering his sunglasses to peer at you more closely. “you’re braver than I thought, showing up here willingly.”

“should I be worried?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“only if you’re planning to let him give you a tattoo,” Gojo quipped, his grin widening. “though, I gotta admit, Sukuna’s been in a weirdly good mood lately. you wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

before you could answer, another voice cut through the air, cold and clipped.

“Gojo, stop pestering her.”

you turned to see Uraume approaching from the back hallway, their pale gaze flicking between you and Gojo. “Sukuna will be out in a minute,” they said flatly, their tone dismissive as if they were already tired of Gojo’s antics.

Gojo feigned offense, pressing his hand to his chest. “pestering? me? I’m just being friendly.”

“friendly isn’t in your vocabulary,” Uraume replied coolly before turning to you. “he mentioned you might stop by. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

with that, Uraume disappeared into the back, leaving you alone with Gojo, who was still grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

“so,” Gojo drawled, leaning closer across the counter. “what’s the deal with you and ol’ Sukuna, huh? friends? fuck buddies? future victim?”

you gave him a look, unbothered by his teasing. “just here to talk to him. that’s all.”

Gojo laughed, straightening up. “sure, sure. keep telling yourself that.”

before you could retort, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the back, and Sukuna appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. his crimson eyes locked onto yours instantly, his smirk curling into place.

“took you long enough,” Sukuna said, his tone low and teasing. “couldn’t stay away, could you?”

Gojo snickered in the background, clearly enjoying the show, but one sharp glare from Sukuna had him zipping his lips—for the moment, at least.

“come on,” Sukuna said, nodding his head toward the back. “let’s talk somewhere less… annoying.”

as you followed Sukuna into the back room, you couldn’t help but notice Gojo’s exaggerated wink and whisper behind you: “have fun, lovebirds!”

Sukuna didn’t bother looking back as he muttered, “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”

Sukuna led you into the back, where the noise of the shop faded into a quieter, more personal space. Sukuna tossed the towel onto a counter and turned to face you, arms crossed, his sharp grin still in place.

“so, what brings you here?” he asked, leaning casually against the table. “couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

“hard not to, considering you’re practically blowing up my phone all day,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

Sukuna scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, I’ve been nothing but honest, princess. absolutely thrilled you’re here.”

you snorted at his reply, crossing your arms as you leaned casually against the wall. “yeah, sure. that enthusiasm is just radiating off you.”

before Sukuna could retort, the sound of laughter and bickering filtered in from the front of the shop, followed by Gojo’s unmistakable voice.

“hey, Sukuna! what’s taking so long? don’t tell me you’re getting hard back there!”

Uraume’s deadpan voice followed. “Gojo, shut up before he actually kills you this time.”

Sukuna groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “these idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

he shoved the door open with more force than necessary, stepping into the main area where Gojo was perched on the counter like it was his personal throne and Uraume stood nearby, arms crossed.

“out,” Sukuna said, his tone sharp and commanding.

Gojo tilted his head, feigning confusion. “out? but we just got here! this is a public shop, you know.”

“you don’t work here, but I do,” Sukuna growled, pointing toward the door. “which means I can throw you out whenever I feel like it. and right now, I feel like it.”

Uraume sighed but didn’t argue, already heading for the exit. “don’t bother arguing, Gojo. he’s not in the mood.”

Gojo hopped off the counter with an exaggerated pout, adjusting his sunglasses. “fine, fine. but you’re no fun, Suku.” he shot you a cheeky grin on his way out. “good luck with him! you’ll need it.”

the door shut behind them, leaving the shop in blessed silence. Sukuna turned back to you, exhaling heavily as he leaned against the counter.

“finally,” he muttered, shaking his head. “those clowns could drive a saint insane.”

“and you’re definitely no saint,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from him.

“no,” he said, his smirk returning as his eyes met yours. “but I don’t mind being a saint for the right person.”

you rolled your eyes at his shameless flirting, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. Sukuna caught it immediately, his grin widening as he pushed off the counter and stepped closer.

“now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “where were we?”

maybe tonight, you wouldn’t fight it. had he earned it yet? probably not—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. he had put in the effort, and for now, that was enough. at least, it was enough for you.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on you, his crimson eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. he was close now—so close that the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint trace of ink. his smirk softened, just slightly, as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a calloused finger.

“you’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with curiosity. “that’s not like you.”

you swallowed, your pulse pounding in your ears. “maybe I’ve run out of insults for you.”

he chuckled, the sound deep and rich, and leaned in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “doubtful. but I’ll take it.”

for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with tension. then, as if the world had paused around you, Sukuna reached out and cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.

you didn’t.

that was all the confirmation he needed. Sukuna closed the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a passion that left you breathless. his hands were firm yet careful as they pulled you closer, erasing any space that dared to remain between you.

your fingers found their way to his shirt, clutching the fabric as you kissed him back with just as much intensity. it wasn’t gentle—it was fiery, consuming, and completely inescapable.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, Sukuna’s forehead rested against yours, his smirk back but softer this time.

“about fucking time,” he murmured, his voice rough, his thumb tracing your jawline.

you could only manage a shaky laugh, your heart racing. “don’t get used to it.”

he chuckled, low and full of mischief. “too late, princess. way too late.”

“you’re still a sleazeball, you know that?” you teased, your words carrying no real edge.

Sukuna smirked, but beneath his cool facade, he was wrecked. one kiss, and he was done for. he felt it in his core—the raw, unrelenting desire that coursed through him, igniting every nerve and overtaking his senses. he hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to give in so soon. but though it surprised him, he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

“guess that makes you the fool for kissing a sleazeball,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

you rolled your eyes, though the faint blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t push your luck, Sukuna. one kiss doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down.”

his grin widened, sharp and full of mischief. “oh, princess, I don’t need you to let your guard down. I’ll work my way past it just fine.”

he pulled you closer, his arms circling your waist now as if daring you to push him away. but you didn’t. instead, you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

“god, you’re impossible.”

“only for you,” he said, his tone softer this time, though it still carried that teasing edge.

the moment lingered, a quiet intensity wrapping around the two of you as the world outside the shop seemed to fade away. Sukuna wasn’t used to feeling like this—like he could lose himself in someone else. but with you? it felt too easy.

“so,” he drawled after a moment, his smirk returning, “you sticking around for a while, or are you running off before I start bragging about that kiss?”

you scoffed, shoving lightly at his chest. “as if I’d let you have that satisfaction.”

his laughter echoed through the room, low and rich, as he held you tighter for a fleeting second before letting go. “good. I wasn’t planning on letting you leave anyway.”

so you hung around his shop for another hour, the place eerily quiet with his coworkers gone and nothing but the sound of his tattoo gun as he practiced a design to fill the silence. you swung your legs back and forth while sitting on his client chair, humming in tune with the buzzing of his gun, but every so often your hums would falter when Sukuna’s hand would reach over and deliberately brush your knee to “reach something”.

would he take you right here if you wanted? on his chair, in his shop? how far could you push before he snapped – or rather, how far could he push before you begged him for it?

you were lost in your sinful thoughts, so drowned in the daydream of being bent over the client chair, that you barely registered the door’s bell until Sukuna gave your leg a nudge. you followed his line of sight and froze at what you saw.

without a word, you slid off the chair and ducked behind the half wall dividing Sukuna’s workstation from the rest—quick and quiet, like a startled cat. Sukuna blinked at you, baffled. “uh, what’re you doing?” he asked, arching a curious brow at your sudden panic.

“shhh!” you frantically gestured for silence, pressing yourself flat against the wall. his eyes darted from you to the couple who’d just entered the shop. “it’s my ex,” you whispered, voice tight, “and the bitch he cheated on me with.”

oh. oh… he glanced at you, then back at them, and a devilish grin curled at the edges of his mouth. oh, this could be interesting.

turning his attention to the unsuspecting customers, he straightened up and spoke in his smooth, confident drawl. “welcome in,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with today?”

you could only see the faintest glimpse of their feet from where you crouched, heart pounding. every fiber of you screamed to make a run for it, but the thought of darting past them felt worse than staying hidden. your shoulders tensed as you tried to breathe quietly, praying they wouldn’t notice you.

Sukuna, meanwhile, oozed confidence and calm, as if he were fully in control of this bizarre situation. “so,” he began, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter, “looking for something special today?”

you could hear the slight hesitation in your ex’s voice as he answered, “uh, yeah, I’m… I’m looking to get a piece done.” the muffled tone made you think he recognized Sukuna’s presence as a bit intimidating—or maybe he was just nervous about committing ink to his skin. the woman beside him, no doubt the reason you were pinned to a wall right now, added something you couldn’t quite make out. her tone was sugary, too sweet, and you wondered what Sukuna would make of her.

the only that thing Sukuna was not enjoying right now was the idea that you were making yourself small. you were shrinking into your hiding spot because of this guy, who he had already pegged to be a tool. surely you knew you were better than him, right?

Sukuna let out a low hum, taking his time as if sizing them up. “sure, we can work something out,” he said easily. “I’ve got a couple spots open tonight. first, though… mind telling me what you’re thinking of?”

a creak of footsteps on the floorboards made you tense further. were they moving toward your hiding spot? your jaw clenched as you tried to make yourself even smaller, practically molding into the wall. above you, Sukuna’s voice remained steady, casual, and you imagined the crooked grin on his face—especially now that he knew exactly who was shopping for ink in his parlor.

the silence stretched for a second, and you couldn’t help but picture Sukuna’s expression, that wicked fire flickering in his crimson eyes. he was enjoying this, savoring every second while you trembled in hidden terror.

your ex cleared his throat. “thinking something… minimalist. maybe a small phrase.” his voice sounded unsure, as if he was trying to impress the girl at his side but had no real clue what he wanted.

“minimalist,” Sukuna echoed, no judgment in his tone, only interest. “got a phrase in mind?” he paused and then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, asked, “or maybe a name?”

the question hung in the air, loaded and dangerous. you stifled a gasp, your stomach twisting. he wouldn’t—

but Sukuna was nothing if not a master at stirring the pot. you could almost feel his amusement drifting down to you as you pressed yourself flat, praying that whatever he had planned would stay just subtle enough to keep your cover from being blown.

the new girl’s heels clicked slightly on the wooden floor. “a name?” she repeated, a note of suspicion creeping into her sugary tone. “did someone recommend this place to you?”

your ex cleared his throat, sounding flustered. “n-no, just... I’ve heard it’s good, that’s all.” there was a restless shuffle, and you imagined him rubbing the back of his neck. you recalled that nervous habit all too well. “I was thinking of something small. a word, maybe. something about fresh starts.”

you could almost see Sukuna’s grin widening. “fresh starts, huh?” he said, voice dripping with false innocence. “funny you should say that.” he paused just long enough for the tension to climb another notch. “I had a client once, real sweetheart. she’d come in here from time to time. got a little something done not too long ago after breaking it off with some jerk who didn’t know what he had.”

oh, god. you bit down on your lip, hard. did he have to lay it on so thick with a complete lie? you pressed yourself flatter, arms aching from how tense you were.

the girl was the first to speak up. “is that so?” her voice was tight, and you could picture her narrowing her eyes. “sounds like a lot of drama for a tattoo shop.”

Sukuna huffed a laugh. “you’d be surprised what people tell me when they’re under the needle.” another short pause. “y’know, you look a bit uncomfortable. why don’t we step over this way?” he took a step, leading them farther into the shop—closer to your hiding spot.

your heart lurched. each footstep echoed like a countdown to disaster. you could almost feel Sukuna’s presence looming overhead, his amusement rolling off him in waves. he was enjoying this too much.

your ex’s voice cracked slightly. “uh, well, maybe we should—”

too late. the girl’s gaze drifted, probably scanning the area. then a sudden hush fell. you knew it was over before you even looked up. her shoes came into view on the other side of the half wall. she must’ve caught a glimpse of you, maybe just your shoulder or the top of your head peeking out.

“what the—?” she said, stepping forward as if drawn by morbid curiosity.

the sound of her voice so close made your heart sink. slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting hers from your crouched position. your ex let out a strangled, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sukuna, for his part, didn’t even pretend to be surprised. he just crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with that lazy smirk. “ah,” he said, voice smug. “found something you like, doll?”

you pushed yourself to your feet, cheeks burning, arms stiff from holding yourself so still. every part of you wanted to vanish on the spot, but here you were—caught red-handed.

your ex’s eyes widened, disbelief warring with embarrassment and maybe even a hint of guilt. the girl at his side set her jaw, looking between you and Sukuna as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Sukuna’s grin practically dripped satisfaction. “well, now that the gang’s all here, how about we figure out exactly what kind of ink you need,” he drawled, his tone low and mocking. “I’m sure we can find something… fitting.”

you straightened, trying desperately to summon your usual composure despite the heat creeping up your neck. your ex opened his mouth, probably searching for some kind of explanation or retort, but Sukuna beat him to it.

before you could blink, Sukuna draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close against his side. his smirk softened into something affectionate as he addressed the pair, acting as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “sweetheart, I didn’t know you were expecting visitors,” he teased, his tone dripping with insincerity. “you should’ve told me. I’d have rolled out a red carpet.”

your ex’s face twisted, a mixture of shock and annoyance flickering across his features. the girl beside him stiffened, arms crossing defensively. “we’re not here to see—” she stumbled over her words, glaring at Sukuna’s arm around you. “we just wanted a tattoo. that’s what this place is for, right?”

“sure is,” Sukuna agreed, casually squeezing your shoulder as if to emphasize his claim. “but I’ve got to say, I only do my best work when the vibe’s right. isn’t that what you said earlier, princess?” he dipped his head slightly, nose nuzzling the top of your head for added effect, as though waiting for you to chime in.

you swallowed hard, noting the challenge in his gaze. fine. two could play at this. “uh… yeah,” you managed, forcing a small smile. “he’s very particular.” you settled your hand on his chest, partly to play along, partly to steady yourself. the hard muscle beneath his shirt didn’t help calm your pulse, and you found your fingers drawing circles against the fabric to lay it on extra thick.

your ex’s jaw tightened. “we don’t need the attitude. we came for a tattoo, not… whatever this is.” he waved a hand at you and Sukuna, clearly unsettled by the dynamic.

Sukuna responded with a slow, dismissive chuckle. “you know, I’m getting the sense that we’re just not the right fit for your ink tonight. could be my mood, could be the… circumstances.” he let the implication hang.

the girl scowled. “forget it,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “come on, let’s find another place.” she seized your ex’s arm, tugging him toward the door. your ex hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you—was that guilt in his eyes, or just frustration? you couldn’t tell, and honestly, you didn’t care. he’d made his choices long ago.

“fine,” he bit out, finally letting himself be pulled away. his voice dropped, grumbling under his breath as they retreated toward the exit.

the bell above the door jangled softly as they slipped out into the night, leaving just you and Sukuna behind. his arm remained comfortably around your shoulders, and you were acutely aware of every point of contact. the nerves that had been wracking your body gave way to the heat you’d been feeling earlier, just from his touch.

finally, he released you, stepping back with that signature grin still firmly in place. “well, that was fun,” he said, tone light, as if you two had just won some sort of game.

you forced a laugh, hand rising to rub the back of your neck. “fun, huh?” the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of what just happened.

Sukuna shrugged, eyes gleaming. “sure. just doing my civic duty. asshole exes deserve a little show, don’t they?” his smirk softened—just a fraction. “hope I didn’t overstep.”

your heart still hammered, but you managed a smirk of your own. “I’ll let it slide… this time,” you teased. “next time, maybe give me a warning before you pull something like that.”

Sukuna chuckled, heading back toward his station as though nothing unusual had happened. “where’s the fun in that, princess?” he called over his shoulder.

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

[ziminy]

Big bad wolf

Where the reader is red riding Hood and Geto is the bad wolf waiting behind the corner to bite.

Tags: smut, mdni, f!reader, wolf!geto, dark content, killing, manipulation, major character(s) death, stalking, marking, biting, oral (m receiving), chocking, creampie, fingering, mean Geto, deep throating, rough s(e)x, orgasm denial, overestimulation, aphrodisiac,

Author's note: I can't stop laughing at the thought of him in grandma clothes. He would look good in a dress tho.

Not proofread

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were sent to your grandma's house to check on how she's doing. Nothing new, you used to do that all the time when you were little. But the thing is that you moved out some time ago, and you haven't visited her in years. It was no wander that you forgot the way to her house.

Someone else was supposed to accompany you. However, you were stood up in the last moment, everybody being busy with something important so you had no other choice but to go there on your own, all alone.

Follow the main path they said, the fact that it splits no one said.

You have to pick which way you're going, left or right. There's no sign that says where the paths takes, so you can only guess.

The right path looks more lively, but the left path might be the actual one. Ugh, this was so hard.

"Never seen you around these parts." a masculine voice could be heard from behind a tree.

"I'm just passing by." you said, not wanting to get in any troubles.

"You look like you need help. Where are you going?" he slowly walked out from where he was hiding, revealing himself. Eye dark just like his hair, fluffy pointy ears on top of his hair and something that seemed like a tail could be seen from behind

"Are you a local?" you asked, somehow skeptical of his motives.

"You can say so."

"Then, do you know the path to this village?" you asked, giving him the name of the place you're going to.

"What are you doing there?" isn't he asking too many questions?

"Visiting my grandma, she's sick." you don't know why you're even telling him.

"Does she lives outside the village?" how did he know? "I know her. It will be faster if you take the right path." oh, you didn't thought he'll be this useful.

"Thank you." you said, happily walking to your destination and admiring the surroundings. Pretty flowers left and right, you couldn't help but stop in place to pick a few, your grandma might like it.

You really weren't thinking nothing of it, being in your own world as you explored this forgotten part of the village, slowly remembering stuff from when you were little.

You remember the lady with the green house, now looking old, her home bearly standing up. Or that one house that was covered in flowers, now looking abandoned.

You couldn't help but sigh, everything changed to the worst. Just like you, the youngsters were leaving this place, trying to look for a better place. But now this place looked abandoned.

You tried to brush it off, it wasn't your problem, you couldn't help these people. Plus, the village your family is in is doing a lot better, so there must have been a reason for this ghosting.

"My my, I haven't seen you before." an old lady said, trying to start a conversation with you. "Are people finally moving back?" she laughed.

"I'm just visiting my grandma." you said, stopping in place to conversate with her.

"It's nice seeing youngsters still caring about the elderly." all you did was to smile and nod your head. "Where does you grandma lives?"

"Right outside the village, that way." you said, pointing at the direction you were going to.

"Be careful, there's a big wolf walking around this area. He been attacking people left and right." you couldn't help but think about the man from earlier. It couldn't be him, wouldn't he attack you if he was?

"I see. I'll be careful." you smiled, now feeling a pair of eyes on you.

"Mm. Be careful." the old lady said before you continued your trip.

You couldn't help but feel paranoid now. Perhaps you were feeling followed from the start, but only now after that lady said it you realized it. It was just your imagination, it had to be. I mean, a wolf, in the middle of the day? Come on.

Was that why everybody was leaving? Was that why your family kept talking about moving your grandma to their village? What if the wolf decides to attack your village too?

Your heart was beating so fast now, it was about to jump out your chest. You kept looking left and right, the familiar things slowly disappearing the more you get to the border of the village. The colorful houses and it's people started to fade away, now looking like a memory you had long time ago. The more you look back, the more they disappeared from your sight.

What if this was a dream? Or was your imagination playing with you? Fuck, please let me get home safely, you prayed in your head.

A few meters away from the village, there was a single lonely house standing proud, looking welcoming, like it was waiting for your arrival.

Your worries slowly evaporated as you quickened your pace towards the house, feeling euphoric and safe after that jump scare from earlier.

You stopped in front of the house, the front gate already being opened, like it was especially left open knowing that you'll be there. You walk towards the small building, knocking on the wooden door, letting the person inside it that you finally you finally got to your destination.

"Grandma, is me, Y/N." you said, a hand on the door handle and softly pushing it open. "Grandma?" you said when you noticed it was way too quiet.

The first thing you saw was how everything looked old and yet it was clean. Very few things here and there, everything looked minimalist.

There was a table right next to the entrance, and then a coat hanger right on the back of the door. A big rug in the middle of the room and then a bed right in the corner. Looks like your grandma is still in bed, that made you sigh reassured.

"How are you feeling?" you said when you walked to the bed, trying to see if the old woman is awake.

Her back looked a lot different than you remember, but that wasn't really important, was it? She slowly sat up, her hair covering her face.

She raised a hand, and you grabbed it, helping her get out of the bed. And damn, grandma was a lot taller than you remember, like, tall. She was a few heads taller than you, she had long black hair and broad shoulders. Was she working out?

"You look a lot bigger than I remember." you said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"That's because you'll always be my baby." you blinked a few times, trying to process what she just said.

"Your voice sounds different." she sounded like a man.

"I always had this voice."

"Your clothes doesn't fit you." you pointed out.

"I grew."

"Your hair too."

"I like it longer." your eyes went up, to what's on top of her head.

"And your ears.." she looked down at you, finally being able to see her face. Oh god, how could you have been so stupid. It wasn't grandma, it was the guy from earlier.

You let go of his hand, taking a step backwards but he grabbed you, dragging you towards him before you were pinned against the closest wall.

"Why would you- Why are you- What happened-" you couldn't even think of what words to say.

"Come on now, take it easy." he had a smirk on his face, and you couldn't help but look around for any kind of clue on what happened.

"What happened to grandma?" you looked at him, finally thinking of what you wanted to say. All he did was to shrug, a smug expression on his face like he was mocking you. "What do you want from me?" he did nothing but to smile. His face getting closer to you, to your neck, sniffing you for a moment before he looked up at you.

Ah, so you were nothing but food to him. No wander everybody was leaving this place when he can easily pull a stunt like that.

Somehow, you were at peace with yourself, closing your eyes, expecting nothing more than a quick death before he devours you. Instead, you were welcomed with his laugh, amused with the fact that you were so calm.

"What?" you said annoyed.

"I like to play with my food before eating it." huh? You stared at him in disbelief. He got his face to your shoulder, opening his mouth widely before biting you, his fangs sinking into your skin, making your mind go dizzy for a moment. "On your knees." he ordered, his expression changing instantly, now serious.

With big eyes, you looked at him, begging him without words to change his mind. Spare you, give you five seconds to get the fuck out of there and run for your life. But no, he had the same stoic expression on his face, looking at you without a single hint of light in his eyes. He was so crule, how could he do this do you?

"Don't make me repeat it." you gulped, biting your lip in frustration.

"Here?" you said hesitantly, almost eating your own words.

He walked away from you, getting off the nightgown and sitting at the edge of the bed, moving one of his finger back and forth, noticing you to get closer.

He made you sit in front of him, on your knees. "Don't be shy now. Do what you're supposed to." his voice was as cold as his expression.

You had many bad words to say at his address, but at the same time, you can't help but feel something hot forming between your legs.

He kept looking down at you, and it only made you think about what you did wrong. You shouldn't have listened to him, you shouldn't have came here alone, or even better, your shouldn't have come here from the start.

"Hah." he puffed, amused at the fire you had in your eyes, full of hate and determination. Don't you think you have a bit too much courage in this situation? "Get started or I will." he spit out some words, making your eyebrows arch in frustration.

You grabbed his cock, too big for your liking, but you weren't in a position to complain.

You moved your hand up and down, not even sure of what to do. A part of you, telling you to taste him, but the more sane part was yelling at you, telling you how much of an hypocrite you were. Dumb, stupid, idiot, so many words echoed in your head, finding synonyms after synonyms to insult you.

Yes, you were indeed dumb for feeling hot in this situation, your body tensing up when your skins touched. A jolt went down your spine, feeling tingly and wandering what reward will you get from this.

You looked up at him between your eyelashes, opening your mouth and getting your face closer to him. All he did was to laugh, staring at you wrapping your mouth around his cock, moving your head little by little to get him inside.

Up and down, up and down, you keep bopping you head, trying to figure out where was your limit. But he didn't cared about that, he took a fistful of your hair and pushes you down, getting more of his dick inside your mouth and make you gag audibly.

"You can take more of it, but you're not even trying it." fuck him. What does he even know? You glare at him, and in response he laughed. He laughed because of how stupid you look, and it made him want to bully you more. "Touch yourself. Get your pussy ready for me." your expression didn't softened, you had the same ugly look in your eyes as you got a hand between your thighs, in your pants. You were so wet, and you had no idea what made you feel like that, because it was too much. You practically had a pool in your panties, swimming in your own juices since you pussy was drooling over some dick.

This was so unlike you, and you couldn't figure out why. With his dick shoving down your throat and the way your body was heating up, you couldn't think straight.

"Keep going." his words of encouragement didn't helped in any way, it only made you feel desperate for his touch.

With your mouth full of him, you started to think that you really could do more than that. To push him deeper than anything have been before, to take more of his dick and try to reach new limits, because fuck it, why not. A life and a hole you have.

So, being blinded by false hope, and this feeling of determination that appeared out of nowhere, you moved your head, confidence in yourself that you'll be able to do it. You'll be able to suck him off better than anyone ever did.

How idiotic of you, thinking that you would actually be able to pull such a trick by yourself. But he appreciated your effort, now he was helping you get him inside further and further than before, his cock going down your throat, you could feel it so deep that you couldn't help but tense a little, a few tears appearing in your eyes. "Keep touching yourself. You'll regret it later if you don't." he kept reminding you, his voice sounding out of breath and just as cold as ever.

He's so heartless, he's expecting you to do all the work. Suck him dry and touch yourself, to get yourself ready for him when he's not paying you any attention. You need more words of encouragement, touches, kisses even. What a dickhead he was, having such a pretty thing as yourself all to himself and not even trying to do you right.

He was very vocal though, he wasn't hiding his voice even for a moment. He kept moaning and moaning, his hand on your hair, pushing you down. His head fell back, the loudest moan he left out so far erupting from his mouth. He was such a bitch and it was making a mess out of you, something inside of you slowly waking up, wanting to bite him just to see how he'll react.

"Fuck." he was out of breath, grabbing your hair better as he moved his hips forward. His action caught you by surprise, making you grab his thigh to hold yourself in place as he kept fucking himself into you.

The next thing you know, is him getting out your mouth, hands wrapped around your arms to help you get up, and then ripping your clothes off. He pushed you into the bed, face down and ass up before slapping it, leaving a big red mark on you skin.

No warnings were said before he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock right against your warm pussy. Well, this was it. The anticipation was eating you, not knowing what he'll do, or when. Biting your lip, you stayed quiet as you waited for his next move.

He pushed himself in, making you gasp at the way he was stretching you. You were so tight, he couldn't help but grab your ass so he could move better. It hurts, if you're being honest, and you can't help but grip the sheets.

He was mean, bullying himself inside, he kept pushing and pushing until he got all the way in. Taking a moment to himself to take a deep breath before starting moving his hips. Long deep strocks, his dick touching against spots that made you see stars.

He was no saint, fuck it, he wasn't a good man to begin with and the fact that he showed you absolutely no affection was pointing that out. "Told you to touch yourself, now you'll have to deal with it." how mean he was, he showed you no mercy.

His words was making it seems like you were the one wanting this, like you made him follow you all the way here and then begged him to do such despicable acts. But perhaps he just wanted to be delusional, lost in his own world as he kept fucking into you.

You kept your mouth shut, and the fact that you didn't let a single word out made him angry. Biting his lip, frustrated with your actions and looking visible mad. Pride was a sin after all, and he liked to live as a selfish man.

Refusing to back down, he slapped your ass, making you gasp audibly and turn your head to look at him.

He lower himself, getting closer to your body. His arms resting on each side of you, his chest pressed into your back before he bite your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your skin.

That overbearing sensation from earlier came back, it felt like your blood was moving backwards, boiling and moving at a much faster speed making you feel hotter than you already were.

If you weren't wet enough, now your juices were running down your thighs and onto the bed, leaving wet mark on you, him and the sheets. But he enjoyed this, looking at you trembling and making this adorable expression, finally looking desperate for him.

He didn't had enough yet, not when he could get you in a more degradable state. Moving his lips into your neck and sinking his teeth again.

It was like he was injecting something into you. An unknown substance that made you lose your mind, your mouth watering and feeling like you didn't know your own body.

Was this enough for him? Or how much longer was he going to be petty? Because you don't have enough time to play his games, the longer he's inside you without moving the more you want to flip him around and show him that you too can play this game.

He moved on the other side of your neck, biting it and making you feel more desperate with each second pass by. If his aphrodisiac wasn't going to kill you, then he will. He will sink his teeth and mark you as many times as it needed to prove his point, and that was that it was stupid to resist him. If you can't be honest or humor him, then he will.

And he bite you again, leaving his teeth mark on your skin as he suck and licked on it after that, moving on another spot and give you another doze of his toxin, because why not. He wanted to do it so he'll do it.

He realized what he's doing only after he felt your warm walls tightening around him, squeezing him again and again before he realized you just came. That made him stop and look at you.

The way you fell on the bed, you couldn't even hold your own weight up, and how you were breathing heavily. He can't say that he hates the way you looked in that moment, but he doesn't love it either. There was this feeling inside of him that told him it wasn't enough, he didn't do anything at all so how dare you be tired already?

So, he grabbed your hips and dragged your ass in the air, your face against the sheets as he started moving his cock in and out once again.

He showed you no mercy, he kept going at it hard from the start. Now, it wasn't anything too wild, it wasn't that hard but it was enough to make the bed move harshly.

He can show you something that is worth cumming for. A few mere bites wasn't enough to do anything, and yet you really dared to go ahead and forget about his hard dick, forget about him and how he was going to make you cum.

The audacity you had, he still can't believe it. You'll see what he's capable of.

Pushing your head down into the bed, face against the sheets as he kept running his cock in and out, the room filled with wet sounds and he's way too proud of that. He's so happy seeing you drunk on his dick that he can't help but slap your ass, leaving his hand print on it so you would remember.

Your insides were squeezing him again, making him to pull out and flip you around.

This was the second time this happens, what's wrong with him. "You want to cum, huh?" he said in a mocking voice, sitting down on the bed. "Gotta earn it." he really wanted you to ride him. And, well, it didn't took you long to jump in his lap and move yourself like there's no tomorrow.

You easily took him in, moving yourself right away to feel some friction. With a hand between your legs you rubbed your clit, not needing much time to cum when you felt like your whole body was going to melt. That didn't stopped you from moving your hips, too desperate to make this agonizing feeling go away.

He placed his hands on your hips, moving you up and down even better, faster than before. He didn't wanted to admit it but you felt good, so good that he couldn't help himself but cum, pumping his load deep inside you before he came back to his senses and started to move you again.

It was just after you came for a second time when he pulled out, right after he came inside you one more time. He flipped you on your back, getting back between your legs and started moving his dick like he didn't do it before.

He kept moving at a certain angle, trying a new way every now and then to see which one made you feel better, because this wasn't just about him, it was also about his pride, you looked just so delicious being fucked up and desperate to feel him.

Your sounds weren't loud enough, your touch was almost non-existent and it made him look visibly mad. Was there a moment that he looked happy ever since he appeared before you?

He wrapped his hands around your neck, squeezing it slightly to hold you in place as he kept ravaging your insides. He kept moving and moving, going harder and harder just to see you squirming. You were reacting so much better now, he couldn't help but have this strange grin on his face, looking at the way you were struggling to take him.

You can come with him, can't you? You can come at the same time, he knows you can. He just haves to give you a little push. So, he chocke you even harder, making your head spin as he looked satisfied with where this was going. You grabbed onto him, feeling dizzy. Your orgasm felt so much violent this time, and the fact that he had no mercy on you didn't make you feel any better.

With a few more thrusts, he came, filling you up even more, and somehow, telepathically, you came at the same time as him.

He got out of you, his cock resting right on top of you as he kept his hands wrapped around your neck, still chocking you, harder and harder, making the air from your lungs stop flowing.

He looked down at you, with the same old psychotic smile as your mind slowly becomes blank, your vision blurry as he disappears from your view.

"Ah, shit." he cursed, realizing too late what he had done. "I did it again, didn't I." he sighed, getting up the bed and looking at you one more time before he put his clothes on, leaving your lifeless body right there where he left you. It wasn't his problem anymore.

Author's note: Tumblr decided to die on me halfway through writing this and I had to re write a little (more). Glad I finished it.

[2demondogs]

Dutch x Reader. just pure heartbreaking, soul crushing, stomach aching angst you can write where Reader gets killed by Colm , making them yet another lover of Dutch’s fall victim to him.

We never see Dutch have a breakdown, and not a "Oh my God, we need money or else we all die" breakdown, but a "Oh my God, my whole world just got taken away from me and there's nothing I can do to save them" break down (maybe with Hosea but I need this man to UGLY CRY)

Doesn't matter how you get reader in Colms hands. That's completely up to you! They could be kidnapped and killed, caught in a shootout between Dutch and Colm, perhaps a ransom situation gone wrong! I'm just throwing ideas out there, but I'll say it again it up to you!

I love your writing so much, thank you :))

Thank you! This one got the Evil Gears working. You guys never fail to complete my villainous whump urges. I be like "cut his arm off with a boulder" and y'all are like "he will never love again."

Hosea's there and so's some others... it takes a village. Thank you to my platonic husband once again for some ideas because the block on this one was tuff. I'm sorry if the execution is not that good T-T.

Words: 3.7k Tags: canon typical violence, grief/mourning, trigger warning Micah (and I guess the rest of it)

The muscle memory kicks in before his consciousness does: the boom of a rifle — Charles' bolt-action, Dutch knows in his veins, can usually tell each of his men's guns apart by report — and then instantaneous sit up, find his gun, rub his face into some semblance of wakefulness as he storms half-dressed out of the tent, canvas flapping. Chilly midnight air is hitting his skin before the echo of the shot has faded into the treeline surrounding camp.

The stillness wakes him up the rest of the way. At least, the stillness of the woodlands, eerie-quiet as they always fall after fire. For the camp's part, men are stumbling out and tripping over themselves, tents rustling, and the women are getting up, Abigail shushing a too-loud Jack. Susan nearly beats Arthur to meeting his stride, her kerosene lantern roving light over the dying grass on the ground.

Micah is always first, a dark shadow already standing at the perimeter where Charles is looming over two shapes heaped on the ground. He doesn't think that man ever sleeps.

"Charles!" He calls, and the two turn from talking hushedly. "What's goin' on?"

Charles tenses up, and Micah speaks before he does, face clearing as Dutch squints the blurriness from his eyes. "Your, ah," — throwing a hand up at Charles, starting towards Dutch with his hands out to grab his elbows — "You oughta be warned, sir."

His brows furrow. Micah of all people is not one to beat around bushes, let alone with him. It gnaws at him, some, a vague sense of dread. It passes his mind where you are, but you had a habit of staying nights over in town if it got too dark to ride comfortably.

"What the Hell are you talkin' about?" He repeats. He shrugs his hands off, pushes past him, hears his gunbelt clinking as he stumbles a step. "Charles, what—?"

"Ain't no one else," Charles starts, not stepping from where he stands in front of the tree they'd assigned as an unofficial camp outpost. That's odd, too, and he has a feeling the man doesn't believe there's no one else, not with his gun clenched in his hands like that. No one else? "But there was an O'Driscoll with—"

And then Susan's lantern swings once across the start of the brush, throws light against hair and a fallen hat, laying on its crown. His fingers ready at his trigger, eyes hardening. "How did they find us this goddamn time?" Dutch asks the air.

Unlike usual, Charles does not keep talking once he's put his two-cents in the pot. He has that tension about him that he always does when there's something he would prefer not to say aloud, a habit that scratches Dutch raw in the wrong ways. He's about to spout off some aggressive twist to avoid the one in his gut, something about I'm the fucking man, Thomas, why are you not explaining this to me? until Susan steps the few paces ahead of him to meet the tree, and the warm glow of her lantern lands on familiarity.

His finger slips from the trigger, all curling bone-white around the grip instead.

Arthur puts a hand on his shoulder, and he waves at the heap with his gun, throat clicking loud enough he thinks he may have cocked it on accident. When he turns to him instead of the ground, he can't make out his son's face in the shadow cast by his own head, only sees glints off his eyes in the darkness.

"You... you take care of this, Arthur," Dutch is saying, feels a hand on his elbow, curling into the inner of it to hold him back, and brushes Micah off once more. Micah, or someone else— the fingers were thinner, but his ears are starting to ring. His throat feels clogged, sticky.

"Dutch," a voice says, and he isn't sure who it is through the roar of blood.

Sanguine is seeping into the ground that Susan's lantern reveals, sliding over the dirt from a gaping hole in the skull of an O'Driscoll. Always goes for the instant kill, Charles does. Green bandana, green vest, dressed like a big green clown by his standards — an imitation of uniform, all of them wannabe munton-shunting clowns wear green, munton-shunter wannabes is all those men are at the end of the day: swine united under one God, hollow be His name — and flailed onto the dirt by the rifle blow. Not from this close, no, he'd be gone from the shoulders up, which means the bastard had almost made it past the perimeter, unnoticed. Dutch can't find it in himself to tear Charles a new asshole for that.

You lay there, too. Unbleeding, but shot all the same.

"Dutch," comes again. He listens this time, because it's Hosea's sleep-ridden nasal and his cool fingers on his burning wrist, pulling him away as his mind grows louder. "Let Arthur handle this."

And he listens to the words this time, because it's Hosea.

He won't think of why Charles is good at fashioning these wooden crosses. Perhaps it's selfish to think that, and to neglect most anything besides the blackness eating at himself— but you are gone.

If he were a different sort of crier, maybe he'd turn to him now and tell Hosea he's lucky to have lived through two. That Arthur and John are, too, and especially Susan— but you are gone, and Dutch only finds one thing funny, in the sour way men laugh over spilled blood and ashes and misfires.

It's own his negligence that must've led to this. Letting you do as you wished, wanting you to be happy instead of entirely safe. If he had only listened to that little voice in his head, surely, you would have come back from town alive and well and pressing some little jewelry piece you'd stolen into his hands like some of promise, the way you always did.

But no, that's not right. The regret is talking now that something has happened, trying to paint over the simple fact that Dutch trusted you enough there were no nagging inclinations when you went out on your lonesome. He wouldn't have liked you this much if there weren't that ability to hold your own, how you offered him some semblance of safety in every regard that he hasn't felt in a long, long while. Give and take.

There is, too, the wish that he had been with you in your last moments. If he were, they wouldn't have been your last; but even if things went the way things always do — which is the end, eventually — he would've liked to have been there, holding you, the way lovers die.

Susan did her best to clean you off and freshen you up. Charles' crosses, and her mortuary sciences. They're both skills that shouldn't be held. Dutch kneeled by your side and gripped the stiffened hand as if the warmth of his skin could've made the flesh tender and rosy once more.

The work is done by the time the sun reveals itself over the treeline. A patch of clearing near camp holds you now, in the grave Charles and Arthur have dug. The two strongest, as reluctant as he was to ask anything of them knowing they were his first choices for scouting a new campsite. He was reluctant to even consider the fact that as soon as you were buried, he might have only a few minutes with that sorry, scored cross that now claims to be you.

Dutch wasn't sure what to do with himself when the work began, and he isn't sure what he spent the hours since midnight doing now that they've passed. He doesn't think he's moved from the spot he stepped into, and Hosea's arm linked through his is so burning hot in the crook of his elbow that he believes maybe he hasn't even breathed.

A respectable distance, in front of the boys. Arthur offers him the last shovel's-worth of dirt, and it means something that Dutch will probably soon regret shaking his head to. His brain skitters at the hard casing of his skull when he does, eyes backed up and stinging. That pain started sometime while he knelt beside you, which seems so long ago now.

Once Charles and Arthur leave, he crumbles onto Hosea, and it all feels very far away. Enclosed in it, locked outside of it; his nostrils burn as if he's snorted capsaicin, mucus coming to his throat without any tears.

"I know, Dutch," Hosea says, voice so weary that Dutch feels his fingers grow stiff and numb with it.

Here he is, and there goes his knees, Hosea stepping back once under his weight but holding him up, in the end, arms tight around his ribs. He realizes it hurts because he's talking, that Hosea has spoken in response to him.

"I should've—" He's starting, but now that he's listening to himself he does not know what he was going to say, and grows frustrated enough that he only groans, inhales a mouthful of the half-dirty collar of Hosea's fur-lined coat.

Here he is, and how he has forgotten what the shards of a broken heart feel like stabbing into a man's lungs.

Dutch has crumbled two sets of tobacco leaves in his fingers, blinking the sun out of his eyes where it crawls up and beneath the overhang of shading the folding chair beside his tent. He sighs sharply, hanging his hands and head between his knees. At this rate, he'll crush every last leaf in his rolling tin and still be out the soothe of nicotine.

Months have passed, but still he struggles to grasp himself again. The idea that you were gone for a job was a lie so clear to him by the end of that first week, Dutch could no longer fool himself on why his cot didn't smell like you anymore. He packed your things alongside his own, but they stay in the crates they were placed into — not stuffed, not like his possessions were — since the gang moved from Blackwater, to Colter, to here.

God, you're all the way back there.

Why did life not cross the border with us? He wonders, at times. He then remembers that it's little use to think that way, before he continues to do it.

There was no use toting a — as impersonal as it sounds, he has no other words for it — corpse around. If he could have, he would've buried you where he believed they might stay for a while. That place hasn't come to him yet, either, as quiet as the overlook seems to be, and so who knows how long he would've been playing that sick game. A proper graveyard was out of the question, if it even could've been done; the only usefulness in such a burial is a relatively sure landmarker by which to find you. Dutch has never been one to go back to the past.

But it's you. He did not go to his mother's grave, and he wouldn't go to hers now. You're more than the past, though. He wishes he could have buried you somewhere beautiful, at least; he wants to go back and sit with you. He doesn't think you will ever be so little as the past.

Dutch doesn't realize he's been mumbling these things to himself until Arthur's voice breaks through the drone of his own, rumbling murmurs and brings them to light amongst the ambiance of camp that he had tuned out.

"You okay, Dutch?" Familiar, gritty like his own voice. Lighter, and concerned.

Dutch looks up at him and sighs, seeing the draw of his brow. His hand raises to gesture before he can think of what he should say— what he even can say, or if there's anything that needs saying to begin with. Finally, the struggle exhausts his mind too much to do anything beyond summarizing his thoughts.

"How many more people I love?" He muses, flicks his wrist and lets it fall back to limply resting on his knee. The sentence cracks and falls between them, Arthur shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

Everyone has been uncomfortable around him, as of late, and that's getting on Dutch's nerves more than it is depressing him. He supposes it does its fair share of that, too. He believes that he does a fine job of swallowing himself and giving them what they need: a leader, strong and shiny and well-groomed, who knows what he's doing, what they're all doing. A man to be proud of, and to make proud.

A man who feels very unlike the way Dutch feels behind that blank expression he lets them paint something better onto in their heads.

Arthur is nodding, looking both ways as if clearing the camp of witnesses before he lays a hand on his shoulder. Lord, Dutch remembers when his hands weren't so meaty and rough. Near dainty, spindly fingers on some teenaged mutt that could barely lift an arm long enough to wave, hands that always seemed too-cold and clammy. That— now, that is the past.

"I know, man," he starts, and says something else he does not hear. All he can think of is when Arthur used to call him Dad, every now and then. "—have to move on," he's saying.

Dutch assumes what needs brushed past, and he has never been a man to agree with the truth, so he asks of Arthur the least he can imagine asking of him. "I know, son," he interjects, gently moves his hand from his shoulder to raise. Arthur steps back, sighs. "Can you...?" Dutch aches, he does; aches for something here that he cannot put a name to, unsure what would soothe any part of him that's currently stirring. He doesn't find the answer as his eyes search the collar of his red workshirt, the treeline past his shoulder where the horses are grazing on the sloping ground. "I need to be alone. Please."

Arthur's jaw clicks as he moves it, then nods and steps away. He pauses before he obeys.

"I..." — that pregnant, lingering thing comes between them again, keeping Arthur's chin raised as he hesitates — "Sure, Dutch," he says, and leaves him to picking up the larger crumbs of tobacco that fell to the ground.

Bitter brown and orange scattered through green grass and patches of raw dirt. In the soil, he figures out that, foolishly, he wanted to be embraced.

Not much more can be done about you. Not now.

It's been burning his skin, this need to be held. It's less than that, Dutch thinks, maybe just a desire for a vague thing like the right kind of comfort.

What can fill a hole this vast?

What can mend a man?

"What's wrong?" Hosea asks, and it's the only what Dutch knows the answer to.

He must know, too. In the lantern light inside Dutch's tent, his face is sliding away from even into one akin to the expression men turn on kicked dogs. They've grating on one another since abandoning the Overlook, and it's been too long since he's seen that much warmth in his eyes.

If only the kinship didn't come from something so terrible. Dutch hasn't pulled him aside this late into the evening since Annabelle's death sent him to nightmares. How strange it feels to taste her name in his thoughts again. Slowly, you've come to stand beside her, to be dead just like her. Nor with as much haste, with hands that shook so hard gripping Hosea's shoulder that he followed without a question.

"I just," — wringing his hands, pacing around the sprawling bear rug thrown over the ground, seems so gaudy now, all of it seems gaudy — "I don't know what to do with myself."

"Ah, Dutch," Hosea says, voice soft. His face grows hot with the sting of oncoming tears. "I know."

His hands are shaking before the words have fully left his mouth. It comes to him that he hasn't cried in the months since you've passed, and suddenly the wave of it hits him at once. He didn't cry for Annabelle until a year had gone by and Arthur had asked, unknowing, if he'd felt the same way with her as he was feeling with that Linton girl.

He had, was the worst part.

He had felt it with you, too. That youthfulness, the carelessness, let them all know; the way his eyes would soften and give him away before he could ever hope to hide it; the burning of loneliness without you, your hand on his arms or how right your skin felt under his palms; how he liked the way you laughed and smiled, so much that it left him bristling with an energy he didn't know how to waste. Dutch was always bad at hiding himself away, in anger or love. His breath never steadied, 'round you. Nothing was even, nothing was ever as clean-cut as he wished it to be. He realizes he's thinking as if he is dead, and stops himself.

It's almost more than you, now. The weight of it takes him to his knees, all the while ashamed in the back of his mind of what he's come to. Hosea follows. Grunting when his knee joint pops, but follows instantly all the same. For some reason, Dutch's face scrunches up harder at that, and he lets it happen when arms link around his shoulders. He remembers the cold of the air the morning you were buried, and lets out a whinging, broken noise.

Time lapses fast and slow. He's unsure how long he spends crying, or how pitiful it must sound. He's unsure when the last time he even cried was. There's not much to mourn in a life spent living amongst the dead, not really— and not much else warrants tears, not out of a man like him.

They come hard, and then dry up enough his head throbs with the strain to find more with which to release himself. His heart races alongside, pounding hard in his wrists where they are both pressed between their stomachs, fingers clenching and unclenching, rings making divets in the webbing that ache. Nose pressed to the breast pocket of Hosea's shirt, gasping breath in between sobs, Dutch comes to a semblance of his senses, to consciousness. It's still difficult to think through the migraine threatening to take out his vision entirely when he attempts to crack his eyelids. It's almost like a first hangover.

Whiskey would do me much better than bawling, he hears himself pondering.

There's nothing more to think of, not about that evening nor the ride you took. There's nothing he has not thought of on the matters of what those groveling weasels may have done to you before they took your life, and there's nothing he has ever doubted on what information they tried to extort from you.

It was personal, it was. No point would have been had in ratting Dutch out to the law, no safety in sending one of his sniffling newsies to the cops only for that one to be extorted and take everyone down with them. Nothing is fair in love nor war, and this feud has always been made of both.

Your death was a chess piece to Colm. If he really meant it, really wanted Dutch to do anything but get pissed off and show his soft belly while struggling to retaliate— Colm would have brought himself and his best men, and he would have dumped your body before him. Personally, like a real bastard. At least, this is the fantasy Dutch imagines in a world where revenge is feasible, and smart.

There's nothing he hasn't done for you in this world besides cry, and if he doesn't stop this heaving, he'll suffocate. His temple is scorching, burns worse when he tries to pull his head away and he cringes, fumbling for his handkerchief to get rid of the mucus sticking his nose to Hosea in thick strands.

"God, I'm sorry, this is— I'm disgusting," he groans, throat clogged. He's on the brink of tears again just from using his voice. It's thick, and he squeezes his eyes shut trying to fix the mess he's sobbed onto him.

Hosea's hand smooths over his shoulder blade. "No, you're grievin'," he says. "You're lovin'."

Curse him and how— how open he is in being kind. Dutch's feverish forehead falls onto his shoulder, but at least these new tears well up right into the handkerchief instead of all over the already soaked patch on his friend's shirt.

Friend. Brother, really. Hosea must be a brother to hold him this quietly as his organs try to squeeze out his body, to give him this thing he never could have asked for in a silence so much more tolerable than lies of how things will be better soon and reminders that men do not show their pulse points like this.

He is getting old, and Dutch doesn't know what he will do. He thinks the last piece of his soul will die with the man.

His mind thrashes so violently inside his head, he thinks it may come out in bloody chunks as he blows his nose. The skin is screaming and raw by the time he can wrangle a bit of air through his nostrils again. Once hot and writhing, he feels his body going numb, painfully empty. His fingers lock up where they cling to each other at Hosea's chest, and it grows hard to breathe; he slumps against him, rakes in air until his stomach feels connected to himself again, and lets out a shuddering sigh that sinks his shoulders back towards the ground.

Wherever he had been, it was very far away. Maybe it was closer to you.

"When does it stop?" Dutch asks, moving to lay his mouth hard against Hosea's collarbone through the shoulder-seam of his shirt. It's sharp and he leans hard enough to feel as though the bone is grinding on his teeth.

He opens his eyes, though it feels more like prying with the drying tears on his lashes, and— looks at the tent, he supposes, but doesn't see much. A crate of your things stares back at him.

Hosea sighs. "It doesn't," he says, pats his shoulder once. "You'll hurt until you join them."

Dutch hates that he's right.

[sundew199]

Never Lose Me snippets

In honor of my Post-Rumbling Fic being completed, I wanted to put together some of my favorite moments/snippets from each chapter because I love it so much and I've become extremely attached to it. This is probably some of my best writing and I'm super proud of it. This is only the first ten chapters and I'll probably make a part two, just so this isn't ridiculously long.

Warnings/tags: mentions of suicide in chapter one's snippet. Postpartum depression implied in Chapter 10's snippet. This is a f!reader x reiner fic, the story is centered around Reiner creating a building a family with you post-rumbling.

Chapter One: A journal entry from one of Reiner's journals after he attempted, something you were unaware of and stumbled upon:

"I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror, want to vomit when I catch a glimpse of what I am, who I was and what I’ll never be. I don’t deserve anything, I deserve to die, rot away in a nameless grave for all that I’ve done. I’m not a good person, I’m the epitome of everything opposite. 

I should be dead, I don’t know why I hesitated on blowing my head off. I guess it's because I couldn’t get her face out of my head, her eyes and how’d I rip everything she holds dear if I went through with it. An early death wouldn’t be so different from when I pass on the armor, I can’t be with her forever. Then again that’s what I deserve. She deserves better, deserves a man who doesn’t recoil at his own image and cries himself to sleep as memories flash repeatedly at night. 

I can’t allow myself to be selfish anymore, even if I so badly want to spend the rest of my life with her, as unrealistic as it sounds. She’ll live to old age and I’ll die at 25 and become nothing but a faded memory to her. I have so many regrets, more than I can count on two hands, but I think my biggest one was going through with the warrior program and signing my life away when I could’ve spent it with her. 

I’d give anything to wake up next to her in our own house, with kids running around in the early morning begging for us to get up and make them breakfast. I’d fucking break through wall Maria all over again if it meant I could have that. 

I’ll love her till my last breath even knowing her love for me will fade over time. "

His reassurance after you stumbled upon the journal and read what he wrote: "Reiner could see the hurt written across your face and saw how you took his explanation. Even if you knew just you alone wouldn’t be enough for him to mend the wounds that were his trauma, it hurt hearing how he wanted to give up. You were glad he didn’t but it stung as if he did. 

“Hey look at me.” Gently guiding you back to face him, thumbs brushing away the stray tears that ran down the old ones dried to your face. “If it weren’t for you and putting so much faith in me I wouldn’t be standing here in this kitchen. You’ve been the grounding force all my life, my reason to keep going, my reason to be better than who I was. I owe you who I am right now and I thank the universe every single day that we crossed paths, everyday sweetheart.”

The tremble in your bottom lip increased by a ten fold, allowing yourself to go limp in his hands for him to catch you, wrapping you in the familiar embrace that was him. You needed him as much as he needed you, bound together smoothly and seamlessly to always be the salve to each other's wounds, the reminder that it will get better. 

Time carried on in the kitchen, calming yourself in his arms with your face pressed to his chest. There was no urgency on his end, allowing you all the time to let everything out. When you pulled away, he smoothed the sides of your face from any remaining tears, pecking your lips."

Chapter Two: Proposing to you.

"His hand came to cup the side of your face, turning you in for a kiss. You smiled into it, placed your palm on the nape of his neck and stood on your tiptoes to meet him properly. The kiss turned into several, languid and deep, all laced with the love so strongly intertwined into your beings. Reiner pulled away, pecked your lips twice more and embraced you. 

“You are my everything, my other half.” Pulling away, running his hands up and down your arms. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, words he wanted to speak turning his throat dry with emotion. “I can’t ever tell you how happy you make me, how lucky I am that my love for you wasn’t unrequited. You are my angel, sent to me when the universe knew I needed you most, without you sweetheart I wouldn’t be standing here, sharing this moment with you.” 

He smiled bashfully, pulling his arms away and shoving one of his hands into the pocket where the ring box was, clutching it tightly. He warmed under your expression to his words, the soft smile creasing your red cheeks. Ignoring the constant flipping of his stomach, the dryness in his throat and sweat beading on his neck, Reiner began again, lowering down to one knee. Instantly you gasped, hands over your mouth and your body shaking with near instant tears that hadn’t fallen yet. 

“From the moment I met you on that sidewalk in Liberio, when I was ten years old I knew I had to find some way to make sure you would be in my life. Even when I thought I wouldn’t live to see thirty, I still wanted to marry you, wanted to share a life with the woman who became the other half of my heart.” His voice shook, laughing cumbersomely and finally bringing out the ring box from his pocket. 

You were sobbing before him, stifling your tears of happiness as best as you could. Reiner’s entire body trembled as he fought to find the next words to go along with the famous four. 

“There is nothing else in this world that I have ever been so sure of, what was once a hopeless dream that I knew I had to make a reality when I was given a second chance, a second chance with you and to make the most of this life and cherish you like you deserve.” Pausing, Reiner blinked the few tears that escaped, opening the top of the box to reveal the ring he spent so much of his time fussing over. 

“Which is why I brought you out here tonight, to ask you a very important question sweetheart. Will you marry me?”

Chapter Three: His Doubts on Fatherhood:

"Saying that outloud was a lot for him at that moment, a vague statement that held layers upon layers beneath it. Reiner knew his most inner insecurity was failing as a partner and now add father to that list and he was a mess with unrationalized thoughts about what could or couldn’t go wrong. Not having a dad growing up and seeking out said father and finding out he had nothing to do with him rewired him that day. Reiner didn’t want for one second that his future son or daughter felt unwanted by him, to not see the lengths he went to to make sure they were loved and cherished by him, that they were all he could’ve asked for. He knew the nursery not being done when they arrived wouldn’t matter to a newborn baby, but it mattered to him. 

“Why’s that?” Came your tentative voice, one of your hands resting over his hand and your thumb rubbing soothing circles on the inside of his wrist. 

“Because I want them to feel appreciated and wanted before they arrive, to know that I want them in my life and that I’m excited to be their dad. I know a newborn baby isn’t going to know or comprehend any of that so I guess it’s more for me, to make up for what I didn’t have.” 

He wanted to cringe at how selfish that sounded, but he was telling you the truth. This baby would never experience what it felt like to be unwanted, to go to the farthest lengths to earn approval from him. Reiner would die before he ever allowed his children to feel an ounce of what he felt growing up. Finishing the nursery may have been seen as something not as important to anyone else, but to him it was the first step to being anything but what his mother and father were to him. 

“Reiner. This baby is already so loved. I know how important all of this is to you, but I feel like you’re trying to prove something to me as well, which you don’t have to.” 

Tears were burning at the corners of his eyes, blinking rapidly so he wouldn’t embarrass himself over crying in the kitchen over old buried trauma. Frustration simmered inside him often when he felt the weight of old wounds resurface after so many years, so sure that he’d healed from it at this point. Even with your constant reminders that healing was never linear and that it was okay, Reiner at times felt pathetic for letting it affect him like it did. 

“I just want to be a good dad, I’m scared that I’ll get in my own head and fail and be like my dad and I don’t want that. Even though I’ve wanted kids and I’m so excited, it’s overwhelming sweetheart.” A thumb came to brush the tear that slid down his cheek, inhaling a shaky breath and shuffling his weight on his feet. Reiner hated that this was overwhelming when it’s all he’d ever wanted. Grappling with new emotions and situations was never his strong suit and he hated that about himself sometimes, he wished it were easier to carry the stress of an impending arrival such as this one, but by god he was overwhelmed and scared and channeling that into working and finishing the nursery along with various other things for you and the baby. 

Chapter Four: After his daughter is born:

"A quick glance over to him and Reiner was crying, holding Maisie just under his chin and repeatedly kissing the crown of her head. Her fists were curled tightly to his shirt, holding onto Reiner as if she knew it would comfort him. Seeing your fiance so emotional at such random had the all too familiar lump forming in your throat. 

“I’m sorry - it just feels like I’ve been dreaming, that I’m going to wake up back in warrior barracks in Liberio.” Choking out on a whisper, tipping his head back so the tears wouldn’t roll down his cheeks too quickly. A smaller hand that belonged to you, landed over his that was cradling Maisie to his chest, offering your presence. “I don’t know why I’m having the sudden realization now that this is real when she’s six weeks old I- fuck sweetheart this is real right, I’m not going to wake up.” 

A quiver began in your bottom lip hearing the plea in his tone, like he was so afraid this would all fade from existence, slip from his fingers as he tried to hold on. Forming the words of reassurance were a struggle, mouth running try as you mouth silent words to a response. That seems to prompt a further reaction from him, blinking rapidly and forcing a smile, pulling you tighter to him. 

“Yes, this is…this is real Reiner, you're not going to lose this. You’re going to wake up in your bed in the home you built, next to me and next to your daughter.” Finally managing to say a few words, though your voice was so strained from keeping the tears at bay you feared he might’ve not heard you. 

His head bobbed in understanding, pressing his lips to the crown of Maisie’s hair and squeezing his eyes shut. What once was a broken, scarred man who convinced himself he was worthy of nothing but an early death, sat beside you a man who couldn’t be more grateful for the life he had, the life he swore would never come to fruition. Reiner inhaled sharply, lifting his head up and back to take in a few deep breaths. 

“I mean it when I saw you’re the greatest thing that’s happened to me, you’ve given me a family sweetheart, made me a father and will make me your husband. You and Maisie are my entire world, my entire purpose.” His hand came to cradle the back of your head, looking at you with glossy eyes that swirled with endless amounts of love and appreciation for the impact you had on his life. Tears were falling down both of your cheeks, Reiner wiping the one he could with his thumb and letting out a few laughs, amused that his uncontainable emotions were bringing you both to tears. Maisie remained unfazed on his chest, sleepily blinking back at you, bringing a tender smile to your lips.

“I’d choose you all over again if I had to, every single time sweetheart.” Sealing his words with a tentative kiss, allowing it to linger even if it was only meant to be short, swiping his thumb over your cheek once more for added adoration. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing it to you so you could plant a kiss on his palm."

Chapter Five: A conversation you had with Pieck about her grief post-rumbling and planning for a wedding:

“Perfect, she can help us with the wedding planning, maybe wait till she’s old enough so she can be a little flower girl.” 

Warmly you smiled at Pieck, touched that she wanted to involve Maisie in her wedding. She’d make the cutest flower girl for sure, steal the show from the new couple by accident, but Jean or Pieck wouldn’t care, Maisie couldn’t help it. 

“How is the wedding planning going?” 

“It’s…it’s a work in progress. Jean and I are so busy half of the time there’s barely any time to discuss. I know he for sure wants to try and have it back in Paradis.” 

“Really? How do you feel about that?” 

A shift in emotions crossed her face, weakly giving you that somber smile. Pieck was guarded, a lot more since the rumbling, losing everything like everyone else did, but also losing so much more at the same time. 

“I’m really not sure. His parents are back in Paradis so of course I understand that, but my dad is buried here and so is…everyone else.” 

Your heart clenched, remembering the day you attended the small funeral for Mr.Finger and not too long after helping with the small grave sight for the friends who never got to see the end of the war. Marcel, Porco, Bertholdt and Colt all had headstones made in commemoration, not too far from the town hall. Reiner, Annie and Pieck visited often, as did you before Maisie. Though small and something dear to the four of you, the gesture and connection was there. 

“I’m sure Jean understands.” 

“I haven’t mentioned it.” 

“Pieck…” 

She sighed, tapping her nails on the table and looking around the cafe. You had a feeling you knew why she hadn’t mentioned it to Jean, the almost relationship she had with Porco and the time it took for her to accept his death. Like Reiner, there was a weight that crashed down after the rumbling, the weight of losing everything and realizing you'll never get to see some people ever again. 

“I know I should, but I don’t want him to take it the wrong way.” 

“How would he take it the wrong way?” Questioning her gently, careful not to pry too much into her relationship. Maisie smacked at the table, innocently unaware of the heavy emotions hovering between you and Pieck. 

“I don’t know, I’m probably overthinking this. I just wanted to get married here, because… I want our friends to see us get married.” 

Anguish of a different kind came over you, reaching for Pieck’s hand and lightly squeezing it. The tonnage of losing people you considered family would never go away, shadowing over happy and joyful events that were intended for celebration. You felt a little bit of it after Maisie was born, wishing Bertholdt were here to meet his best friend's daughter. Reiner never said, but you knew.

“Talk to Jean about it, it’s your wedding too and I have a strong feeling he’ll understand and the two of you will come to a compromise.” 

The small signature smile came from her, nodding softly and squeezing your hand back finally."

Chapter Six: the aftermath of your daughter turning one:

"When he returned, you waited for him, curling into his chest when his arms came around you. The attempts to lull you to sleep with the gentle motions of his hand rubbing up and down began to work until you shifted and reached for your book. Instead of grabbing it from the drawer of your nightstand, your fingers grasped the soft fabric of something, pulling it out to reveal the baby blanket you brought Maisie home from the hospital in. You’d put it in there a long time ago so you’d never lose it, a small keepsake from when she was a newborn. 

Bottom lip trembling seeing how small the fabric was, instantly reminding you that at one point she was that small. You sniffled and let out a sob, clutching it to your chest and curling back into Reiner. He called your name repeatedly, confused by the sudden turn around of events. 

Finally, looking at him through the tears you spoke.

“She was so little, Reiner she was so little. What happened?” 

Unable to see the relieved smile on his face as you’d buried yours in his chest, Reiner bit back the little chuckle and squeezed you close. He held you while you cried, the emotions of your baby turning one crashing down all at once. If you knew all it took was looking at the blanket she came home in, then maybe you would’ve done this earlier, get all the emotions out beforehand. 

Pulling you away, Reiner wiped your tears and let out a sigh. His face read of endearing smugness, the kind when he knew eventually all your worries would be solved. Part of you felt as if he was simply waiting for a moment like this, knowing it was bound to come. 

“Do you feel better?” 

“No?! Our baby is one, I feel sick.” 

He laughed then, hauling you into his lap and using his hand to tuck your head under his chin, rocking you as if you were Maisie, which actually turned out to be kind of soothing. 

“It’s only going to get worse from here.” 

“Thanks, I feel so much better.” Sarcastically sniffling, rolling your eyes even if he couldn’t see. 

Kissing the top of your head, a mischievous chuckle rumbled in his throat, already knowing he was just going to continue to add on. 

“She’ll start talking in full sentences. Eventually waking us up in the middle of the night to crawl into bed with us.” 

“Stooop.” Whining on top of him, purposely interrupting his ramblings for the sake of your emotional stability. 

“Then she’ll be begging you to put bows in her hair, braid it and style it how you want. Insist on following you around everywhere, turning into a mini you.” 

“She’s already growing so fast, she walked for the first time all by herself today.” 

Unable to help the small sniffle and tears once you remember Maisie hit another milestone today, Reiner paused for a moment, bringing you up to look at him. His eyes were misty, the attempt to pester you backfired. 

“Yeah, but she’ll always be our little girl, our Maisie.” Whispering and fighting the tremble in his bottom lip with a weak smile. 

Thumbing over the quivering lip, you pressed a small kiss to his lips, curling back into him with your face pressed into the side of his neck."

Chapter Seven: Yours and Reiner's wedding vows.

Reiner's to you: "Instead of reaching for the cards stuffed in his pocket, his head dipped in one final composure of his emotions before looking back up to meet you in the eye. 

“From the moment I met you sixteen years ago it was love at first sight, even if ten year old me didn’t exactly know what that was, I can guarantee it was. When I had to leave for Paradis the first time all those years ago, I promised myself I would make it back, not for Marley or the brass but for you. I didn’t have a grasp on why my heart yearned for you all those years away, but I finally understood when I saw you standing there on that dock, meeting me in each other's arms.” His voice shook further and further with every word he spoke, noticing the two tear stains on your cheeks. Sucking in a deep breath, Reiner kissed your knuckles and continued. 

“You didn’t have to care for me the way you did when I returned, didn’t have to reassure a broken man who saw himself so unworthy in his own eyes, didn’t have to stay up late with me all those nights when I couldn’t sleep, but you did. You showed me unconditional love and understanding after five years apart, never judged when at the time that was all I felt deserving of. You mended the broken pieces of my heart and soul with your attentive care, brought the light back into my dark life, helped me push through each day. You were my second chance at life, my reason to keep going even when I thought living to my thirties was never going to happen. So when I saw you again in Fort Salta, I promised myself to be the man you deserve, be the father our daughter deserves, because there aren’t enough words to express how much I love you, how much you mean to me and how you shape this heart of mine, I never want to leave this world without saying I love you.” 

Yours to Reiner: "The faint sniffles from the friends and family watching on was nothing but a buzz in his ears, training his eyes on yours and watching the emotion swirl. Reiner kissed your hands one last time, holding them between your bodies and waiting for you to speak. When you were composed enough, you let out a little laugh with the tremble in your lip. 

“Crossing paths with you changed my life forever, even if our first encounter was brief. I will admit I never understood the infatuation you had for me, why you pestered me endlessly and always ended up by my side. When I dropped out of the program, I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again, but of course you made it a point to walk with me to and from the headquarters, even if it potentially made you late to training. I realized my crush for you right before you left, feeling so blindsided and wondering if I’d ever get to see the bright blonde boy who loved to point out the butterflies on our walks home again.” 

Your hands shook in his, Reiner quickly seeing the turn of your emotions for what you were about to say next, bracing himself for the tears that were building in his waterline and the lump rising in his throat. 

“When you did return, I was so happy to have my best friend back, so excited to mess around like before you left, but I realized that boy was buried deep inside you. I knew you weren’t lost completely even though some nights spent in your apartment I questioned if there was a light at the never ending tunnel. I never had any concrete reasoning for staying by your side when you returned, just wanting you to be okay and scared I would lose the one person who made my heart flutter when I saw them. I know you feel as if you’ll never truly be the man I deserve and I want to tell you that you’re wrong. You’ve always been a man worth loving, a man worth a life full of happiness and health, worthy of a family and friends who see you for who you are. You’ve always been the other half of my heart before I even realized it and I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not be able to tell you how much I love you.” 

Chapter eight: Yours and Reiner's daughter feeling her younger sibling kick for the first time.

"Smiling at the following question, Maisie crawled over your leg to get to Reiner, climbing onto him like a tree and poking next to the corner of his eye. You watched as he praised her for the correct answers and the gentle correction at the wrong ones. Reiner went over the features of his face until he started to point to different ones and wait for her to respond. And Maisie did flawlessly, still working on some of the pronunciations but both of you knew what she was trying to say. 

“Baby.” 

Your daughter had rotated her head in your direction, pointing at your stomach. Reiner shared a look of awe with you, neither of you had mentioned that often there was a baby in your stomach but Maisie knew and both of you were a little shocked to say the least. 

“That’s right, there's a baby in Mommy’s tummy.” Patting the center of your abdomen as you confirmed her observation. Even though Maisie had just pointed it out, she looked a little perplexed, moving to sit between you and Reiner, staring at your stomach. 

Lifting the hem of your shirt until the small bump was revealed, you rested your hand at the crown, watching your daughter's eyes widen in even more fascination. Like she was scared something was to happen, Maisie reached her tiny hand out and rested it on the side of your stomach. Eyes blinking so slowly as her mind turned with pondering, working out the complexities of your pregnancy that she now suddenly became aware of. 

A flutter rippled under your hand, barely noticeable at first but when the action repeated your eyes widened. If you were correct, the baby just kicked for the first time, and patiently you waited to see if they would do it again. 

“Reiner.” 

“Hm?” Taking his eyes off of Maisie to see what you wanted, having to balance his weight quickly as you grabbed his wrist to place his hand where yours was. At first he questioned what you were doing until he felt the tiny kick. The air in his throat hitched, body completely frozen as he waited for the baby to do it again. Maisie had been watching you two, not sure why your eyes were wide and bodies so still, so she moved her hand next to Reiner’s, feeling left out. 

Instantly, your husband guided her hand to where his once was, placing his comically larger one over Maisie’s and waiting on bated breath for the baby to hopefully kick just one more time. It would be an experience for your daughter, feeling her sibling kick in the womb in her presence and you hoped they would cooperate. 

Sighing in relief when the kick came, Maisie jolted a little, unsure of what that was, looking back at Reiner for answers. 

“That’s your brother or sister Mais, say hi.” Speaking softly by her ear and smiling with pride, encouraging his daughter to greet her sibling. 

“Hi…” 

You were melting on the spot, seeing Maisie timidly acknowledge the baby even if they couldn’t hear her, Reiner sharing the same look as you. A few moments passed with occasional kicks and Reiner guiding his daughter's hand around your stomach to entice them to keep making their presence known. With each one, Maisie smiled, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling, she knew just by the looks on yours and Reiner’s face that it was a good thing. 

When the kicks couldn’t be felt anymore, you pulled your shirt back down and curled up next to Reiner, with Maisie beginning to doze off in your lap. The soft pats from your palm and the occasional threading of your fingers in her hair, she loses her battle with sleep quickly."

Chapter nine: doubts about being a good mom.

"“What’s wrong?” Murmuring, letting your hands fall in your lap and running his own up and down your arms. As he waited for your response, he tried to think of any possible reason why you could be upset, wanting to have his own comforting words ready the moment you were. 

“I’m just worried over everything .” 

Reiner softened, nodded for you to keep going. “I feel stupid for all this anxiety when we’ve already done this, but what if Maisie doesn’t like the baby and lashes out? How am I going to take care of two kids when you’re at work? What if I can’t-” 

“You can.” Cutting you off despite knowing there was probably so much more on your mind you needed to voice. A deep sigh exhaled through his nose, taking a moment to wipe your tears and kiss the little salt stains they left behind on your now flushed cheeks. Understanding how you felt, feeling similar to before Maisie was born, Reiner moved to take you into his arms for an embrace. The soft strands of your hair tickled the side of his face, threading through with his fingers for further comfort. He could hear the further cries into his shoulder, letting his arms tighten around you. 

“I know it’s been a lot for you recently, but sweetheart you know I’m going to be here. You know I’m going to go out of my way to be there and help you out, even if I am at work.” Pulling you away so he could look you in the eyes as he spoke. Reiner couldn’t help but give a silent chuckle when he scanned over your face, looking so much like Maisie when she got upset. Dipping down for a small soft kiss, he held the sides of your face as he gave you the most affectionate look he could muster. 

“You are an incredible woman, mother and wife. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you won’t be able to handle both of them because you’re smart, caring and face every obstacle with a calm, sound mind. Everything is going to work out one way or another.” Affirming to you once more that there wasn’t anything you couldn’t do nor face alone if Reiner could help it. His commitment would always be to you no matter what, be there for you like you were for him in trying times. Even if he were away and you needed him, Reiner would break and bend laws to be by your side, it was the least he could do for all that you had done for him. 

“I just don’t know why I’m so worked up over this?” Wiping your nose on the back of your hand, looking up at him and then back down to your stomach. Reiner followed your gaze, carefully climbing over you to sit beside you, quickly checking on Maisie as she napped. 

“Because it’s an entirely new situation, for the both of us, double the responsibility. We don’t know what it's like to raise more than one kid and that’s okay, it’s all about figuring it out as we go.” Running his finger lightly over your bump, then palming it in the center. Reiner would admit that he’d had thoughts like yours recently, nothing to this extreme, moreso worried about the present, forcing himself the reminders that he would face the future when it came. 

“Yeah.” 

Your response was plain, but reduced of the worry and uncertainty. Hooking the hand on your bump under your chin, Reiner laid the last of his comfort into the kiss he pressed to your lips. Whatever anxiety remained, melted off of you as you kissed him back, quickly wrapped in the blanket that were his words and actions. Reiner kissed your forehead, reaching over to bring Maisie back to his arms. 

“You’ll be okay, I’ll always make sure of it.” 

Slouching against the headboard once he was readjusted, he reached for your hand, stroking his thumb over the top. Whatever life had to throw this way, Reiner made the same promise over and over again, to be everything and more to you, till the day he drew his last breath."

Chapter ten: dealing with postpartum depression after yours and Reiner's son his born.

“I’m sorry.” Trembling words left your lips, sounding so pathetic and weak. You were pulled off so you could look him in the eyes, concern laced with sternness was what you were met with. 

“For what?” Asking as if it were a rhetorical question, holding the side of your tear swollen face and dabbing a few of the tears away with his hand. 

“For…for I don’t know, he wouldn’t calm down or stop crying and I tried everything but it wouldn’t work.” 

Your husband somehow softened and hardened at your words. Reiner wasn’t truly upset with the situation, moreso with the fact that you immediately turned apologetic for being unable to calm Gabriel down. There were no signs that this was inherently your fault, and Reiner knew things would be testy with your emotions a good while after giving birth. Navigating these emotions were like walking on crack glass high in the sky, stepping lightly and weighing his words and actions to keep from everything shattering. It pained him like no other that you were a mush of emotions, knowing how mentally taxing it was on you. If somehow it were possible for him to carry all of that for you, he would. 

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to apologize for. Sometimes babies get that way and it just takes more time to calm them down, you know that.” Wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into his lap. Dexterous fingers glided along your flushed, tear stained cheeks, looking at you with pure adoration. Reiner knew you were bearing the weight of being strong and capable as he returned to work earlier than expected. He hated that you felt the need to do that, his promises were still true and he would uphold every last one to ensure your emotional and mental health. 

“But you just got home from work and immediately had to take care of the situation. I didn’t even have dinner ready, nor did I greet you.” Your words turned into apologetic ramblings, overexplaining to make up for the situation at hand. 

Sweetheart,” Brushing a thumb along your bottom lip to quiet the shaking words leaving your lips. “It’s okay, I don’t expect any of that when I get home. I care about seeing the three of you, that’s it. And it doesn’t matter if I just walked in the door and you need help, I’m your husband and their dad, it's the bare minimum of what’s expected of me.” 

His words were like a wall of truth smacking you in the face, not wanting to accept it. Your husband deserved to come home and relax for a bit before jumping into parental duties, at least that was your reasoning. Reiner already had so much to handle and throwing more on him just felt…wrong. It was a way of showing your appreciation towards him, a little out of the ordinary but you couldn’t think of any other way at the moment. 

“I’m just-'' Taking in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut for the confession you were about to let out. “I’m just so tired. They both need all of my attention and I want to do everything I can to give it to them but I feel so drained and I know that makes me sound like a bad mom. It’s not fair that you’re not here and it’s even worse for me to just dump more on your plate when you get home, I hate it and I feel like a failure.” 

Unable to look Reiner in the face, ashamed at the words that left your mouth, you buried your face in your hands, letting out pitiful little sobs. It was one thing to inwardly confess to feeling like a failure, but to voice it aloud to your husband struck you so much harder than you expected. Intentionally or not, you dubbed yourself as the strong one, the one to lean on instead of the other way around. Reiner never burdened you with that notion, that was all your doing and you knew that. Everything had gone so smoothly with Maisie, you’d admit your expectations were high with Gabriel. Naive thinking yes, but were you so wrong in thinking that? 

Settling for embracing you and pulling your hands away before he spoke, Reiner smoothed his hands over your back, rubbing circles to calm the pent up emotions inside you. He knew you held some resentment for him going back as early as he did and he couldn’t blame you. But for once he didn’t let that get inside his head, because at this moment he needed to be the rock to your support and not pity himself over something he couldn’t control. 

“You’re not a failure sweetheart. The fact that you’re so upset over this tells me how much you care.” Using age old lines he once heard over and over from you to offer the same reassurance and relief it brought him. “I know it can be hard to ask for help when you feel like you can handle everything, but you need to put yourself first sometimes. You are not just a mother, you’re a person with their own individual self that deserves to just have moments to yourself. It’s not selfish or greedy to want to be away from the kids for a bit, its healthy and that’s all I want for you angel.” 

Bringing yourself to look Reiner in the face, letting out a long somewhat defeated sigh, you gave a small nod. There were thousands of reasons why you loved Reiner, but his poetic words of reassurance were at the top of your list, the man stringing together words and sentences that were so beautifully conveyed that calmed your weary soul. Your husband was truly the better half of your and you couldn’t even imagine living in the world without him. 

“It’s not going to happen overnight.” Countering back a bit with slight humor in your tone, the tonnage of your inner struggles lifting slowly.

His lips curled into the softest smile, tracing the lines of your cheekbones and tilting his head in a small nod. “I know, but you’re not alone, you’re never alone and I want you to get used to leaning on me more when you need to. I’m never going to judge you for whatever is bothering you, nor your thoughts or feelings.”

[runningfrom2am]

this is why we can’t have nice things - (r.c)

summary: You have no intentions of telling Rafe that he got you pregnant, but someone else tells him for you.

This can be read as a stand-alone but it's technically a part three to getaway car and big reputation

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: mean!kook!reader, bullying i guess?, highschool!au, swearing, teen pregnancy (STAY SAFE Y'ALL), fighting, implied sexual content (but definitely nothing explicit)

requests

nav/masterlists

You shuffle quickly down the empty hallway, clutching your bag to your chest out of anxiety. This isn't a feeling you're overly familiar with. You look back over your shoulder and you quickly make your way towards Bella's classroom, remembering she has math this period. It's just after lunch, and you couldn't make it in the morning, you just weren't feeling very well. Something felt off. That's when it hit you.

You knock on the open door frame, scanning the room for your best friend when your eyes land on Rafe. Fuck, you forgot he was in this class. He gives you a smug smile and a wink, making you cringe inwardly at the situation as the teacher acknowledges you. "Miss Y/L/N. Something I can do for you?"

"Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Bella." You say, glancing over at her. She can sense that something is off, and she's already grabbing her stuff and standing up.

"Woah, did I say you could go?" He says to her and she freezes.

"It's really important." You cut in before Bella has to. "It's, uh, girl stuff. I just need to grab something from her locker." You lie, avoiding eye contact in attempt to feign embarrassment.

The teacher sighs, nodding at Bella who resumes packing up her stuff. "Don't be long." He says, and you avoid Rafe's eyes on you as Bella makes her way up to the door, quickly following you away.

"What's wrong?" Bella whispers as you quickly walk down the hallway, heading towards the girls locker rooms. No one uses those during class time, so you like to have meetings there when you have something urgent to discuss. Something like this.

"Shh, wait." You whisper back, walking down the stairs into a smaller section of hallway and into the locker room, closing the door and locking it behind you.

"Please, Y/N/N. You're scaring me a little." Bella asks again and you throw your bag down.

"I'm pregnant." You say, locking eyes with her as her jaw drops.

"Wait, I- you're sure? Because we've both had scares before-" Bella tries to rationalize it and you shake your head, reaching into your bag and pulling out the ziplock with the three positive tests you took this morning, practically shoving it into her hands. You can't even look.

"Shit..." Bella mumbles, looking all of them over carefully. "..Rafe?"

You swallow thickly and nod, chewing on your nails. "Yeah, yeah it has to be." You confirm, continuously nodding to yourself.

"Are you gonna tell him?"

"No! No- definitely not." You are quick to shoot that down. "I mean, do I have to?"

"I don't think so." Bella agrees, putting the small plastic bag down on the bench next to her. "Not unless you plan to keep it."

"Oh, god no!" You scoff, pacing back and forth now.

"I didn't think so, no..." Bella nods a little, thinking it over herself. "This weekend we'll get you to a clinic. Is that soon enough? When did you sleep with him last? We just need to do a bit of math."

"Like, a month ago? We only like, actually did it once. After that party. So... yeah, three and a half weeks, ish." You tell her.

"Okay, that's plenty of time. You're fine. I'll take you to the mainland this weekend, it'll be like a little girlies trip! We'll go to that cute coffee place, maybe Target, make an adventure out of it, yeah?" Bella suggests, smiling as she tries to make you feel better.

"Yeah! Yeah. We'll do that. I'll sleep at yours?" You say, smiling at her knowingly.

"And I'll sleep at yours." She nods, reaching out and you do your handshake, one you made up a few years ago.

You pull her into a hug, and she rubs your back gently. "You'll be okay. I won't tell a soul." She assures you, knowing you well enough to see how scary this is for you even if you have a solid plan on how to handle it.

"Thanks, Bells." You sigh, pulling away and quickly fixing your hair in the mirror, grabbing your backpack and following her out.

"We'll get coffee after school, right?" You say, dropping Bella at her math class.

"Yeah! Can't wait." She smiles. "Should we invite Rafe?" She whispers, nudging you gently.

"No thanks." You giggle, waving as she walks into the room. This time you're definitely avoiding looking at Rafe, especially now that someone else knows. You can feel his eyes on you as you stand briefly in the doorway, giving Bella a quick wave and nodding a thank you to their math teacher before walking away. You know Bella will be able to play it cool, even around Rafe. She'll take all your secrets to the grave.

You straighten your uniform as you walk and quickly make your way to your class, anxiously waiting on the weekend to come.

The next morning, everything seems to be going well. You slept well knowing you and Bella had a plan, and honestly you did look forward to the weekend and getting to have a "girlies weekend", as Bella put it.

You get to school just on time, rolling up your skirt and fumbling to pull up your socks as you approach the doors with your bag over your shoulder and a coffee in your free hand.

"Hey! Hey, hey, Y/N! Wait!" You hear someone calling out to you, looking around and cursing internally when you realize it's Rafe, running towards you across the parking lot.

"Hey, Rafe." You call back, giving him a quick wave and trying to continue on your way.

"Hey, uh, can we talk, real quick?" He asks as he makes it up next to you, gently grabbing your arm to stop you.

"Uh, yeah, course..." You agree, eyeing him suspiciously. There's no way he knows, right?

Rafe nods a little, looking around before pulling you away from the door and just behind the building. "I, uh- shit. Uhm... So..." He stammers and you roll your eyes.

"Well, this has been riveting. Always a pleasure, Rafe Cameron!" You grin, turning on your heel to walk away. You don't need to be late to class again.

"You're pregnant?" He gets out just as you get to the corner of the building, and it came out weaker, more concerned than he intended to sound. He had this plan to try and be cool about it, not take it that serious, but he honestly was a little hurt that you didn't reach out to him. You freeze, sighing and groaning as you turn back to face him.

"Maybe." You answer, avoiding eye contact with him. "Well, yeah. Uh, I am." You mumble, realizing you at least owe him honesty.

"Right..." Rafe nods, tilting his head at you. "And you think it's mine?"

"Oh, god-" You laugh, shaking your head and making a disgusted face.  "Don't say it like that, it's not- it's not like, alive. But do I think you're responsible? Yeah. Definitely."

"Are you sure?" Rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you and you gasp dramatically, covering your mouth with one hand.

"Wow, Rafe, are you 'slut-shaming' me?" You ask, hardly able to stifle a laugh.

"I don't know what a pretty girl like you gets up to in her free time! I was just wondering!" Rafe says with a smirk, raising his hands defensively. You're honestly glad you can playfully bicker through this rather than it being any kind of serious.

"Well, thank you for thinking I'm pretty, but unfortunately you are the only boy I've slept with in the last three months so yeah, I'm pretty sure." You reply, taking a sip of your coffee. "How did you find out? I had no intention of telling you."

"Ouch." Rafe chuckles, clutching a hand over his heart. "Well, I'm glad you're sure because at three am I got a ransom demand for your right to privacy about it and I paid someone a grand to not tell anyone."

Your jaw drops at this, and you almost drop your coffee. "I'm sorry- what?"

"Listen if it was you, you can just ask me for money if you need it I'm more than happy to help-"

"Of course it wasn't me! God, no, I'd never-" You quickly defend, absolutely in shock at the situation. "I'd never do that to you. I'll pay you back, it was never meant to be your problem, like I said I wasn't even going to tell you-"

"Hey, no, it's okay. It's okay." Rafe assures you, stepping closer now and resting a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down. "I'm not mad. I don't give a fuck about the money, I want to help." He insists, nodding at you slowly.

"Sorry, sorry this is embarrassing.." You laugh slightly as you realize you're starting to hyperventilate. You were cool about this whole situation up until now, but suddenly you're overwhelmingly terrified, especially since someone knows. "My parents can’t find out- they'll kill me, they'll kill you! God, I just-"

"No, you're fine. We'll figure this out." Rafe says, gently rubbing your shoulder and taking your coffee from you before gently placing it on the ground.  You just nod a little bit, closing your eyes and desperately trying to regulate your breathing. "We just.. we need to figure out who it was, yeah?"

You nod frantically, taking slow breaths and trying not to panic. "Did you tell anyone?" He asks.

"Only Bella," You say, nodding a little bit. "And Bella didn't tell anyone, obviously."

"Obviously.” He agrees. “So, how could someone else find out?"

Then it dawns on you as your stomach drops. "Oh, shit... The tests- we left them in the locker room yesterday." You say, shaking your head and laughing a little at your own stupidity.

"Yeah, yeah they sent me a picture of them. But they could be anyone's, come on, in this school that means nothing." Rafe chuckles, trying to cheer you up. "They must have heard you."

He's right, someone must have been in there. They should have cleared the room before she spoke, but you were panicking, at the time it didn't even cross your mind to check all the shower stalls that sat vacant at the back of the room, rarely ever used. "Yeah.. they must have. I've got an idea, though."

By third period, it's time to put your plan into action. Rafe agreed to meet you outside the girls locker room exactly thirty-five minutes into class, both of you coming up with a good excuse to leave.

You walk up to where Rafe is leaning against the wall next to the door in the secluded hallway, gesturing for him to follow you as you open the door, letting him in and quickly locking it behind you.

"Woah, I've never been in here before." Rafe chuckles, looking around.

"We're not here for fun." You say back quickly, starting to shuffle through the bags of all the same girls who would have been in gym yesterday, looking for the tests. Rafe just stands there staring at you. "Are you gonna help? There's like forty bags and we only have a few minutes."

"Oh, right-" He nods, looking around before deciding to start on the opposite side of the room. "I don't feel right going through girls bags." He laughs a little, already onto the second one.

"It's fine, we're only looking for one thing." You reply, tossing another bag to the side. No luck so far. About ten minutes and thirty bags later, you're starting to stress that you won't find it, that they weren't dumb enough to bring them back to school, when Rafe laughs.

"Hey! Here!" He says, and just as you turn his tossing the ziplock bag at you and you fumble to catch it.

"Which bag was it?" You ask, rushing over as he hands it to you and you start to basically tear it apart to find some kind of identification for who owns it. You find a wallet and smile, quickly opening it and checking the ID.

"Ally." You scoff, dropping her bag on the ground.

"What a cunt." Rafe mutters, kicking it to the side. You quickly shove the tests into your bag at your side and take a few bills out of her wallet, handing half to Rafe and pocketing the rest before zipping it shut and throwing it on top of her bag.

"We're stealing now?" He smirks, putting the money in his wallet anyways.

"What? No, that's your money. She's just paying you back, like, partially." You shrug, smiling back up at him. "And for me it's damages."

"Right, fair enough." He chuckles, looking down at his watch. "We've got twenty minutes left before class ends, want to..?"

"No! I'm not fucking you in the girl's locker room." You shove him back playfully. "Also that was a one-time thing."

"Whatever you say, Y/N/N." Rafe chuckles. "Just thought I'd offer."

"You lost that privilege when you got me pregnant." You giggle, crossing your arms as you stare at him.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" He defends. "Won't happen again. I swear."

“Yeah, it won’t.” You roll your eyes and head for the door, stopping abruptly as Rafe reaches in front of you and grabs the handle first. You turn your head to look up at him and you don't get the chance to before his lips are pressed against yours, his free hand landing on your hip and holding you against the cold, blue-painted metal of the door.

Despite your protests earlier, you don't hesitate to kiss him back. You're quick to bring your hands up to his cheeks, pulling him closer for a moment before moving your head back and gently pushing him away. "One-time thing, huh?" He chuckles and you nod, biting your lip. 

"Yep, not happening again." You confirm, turning and unlocking the door before pushing it open and walking off down the hall.

"Wait, what are we gonna do about Ally?" He says as you walk away and you turn, pacing backward to look at him when you respond.

"I've got it from here. Thanks, Cameron."

When Rafe walks out of the building later that afternoon, he stares in confusion at the small crowd that's formed just on the other side of the fence marking the edge of school property. "Rafe! Rafe, help!" He hears Bella before he sees her, pushing her way through the crowd and frantically waving for him to come over.

He picks up his pace as he jogs over, dropping his bag and pushing his way through again after her. He's met with you straddling Ally's back as she screams and cries, you holding her face down into the dirt by her hair. "Say you're sorry! Say it!" You scream in her ear, absolutely irate at this point as everyone watches in horror. Rafe is quick on his feet to wrap his arms around you and lift you off of her, grabbing your hand and tearing her hair out of your grasp. He’s holding you back as you continue to yell over her sobs, and you struggle to get back to her shaking body on the ground.

"Hey, hey! She's had enough, Y/N/N." Rafe chuckles, holding tightly to your waist. 

You push your hair out of your face, both of you watching as some of Ally's minions are quick to try and help her up. Her nose is bloody, makeup and uniform absolutely ruined. You smile as you look at her state. "Not gonna tell anyone now, right?" You ask her bitterly, Rafe finally letting you go.

"God, you are crazy! You'll be hearing from my lawyer, you psycho!" She cries out, wiping her face.

You lunge at her again and she's lucky that Rafe noticed this the second before you moved, grabbing you again and pulling you into his chest. "Hey, woah, don't bother." He says to you.

"Yeah, muzzle your fucking dog." Ally mutters, brushing off her clothes. 

"Says you, you actually look like one so watch your mouth.” He scoffs at her, spitting at her feet. “Extortion is a crime too, by the way." He adds cooly, raising an eyebrow. "So I think we can keep legal out of this, don't you?"

Ally huffs and quickly walks away, pushing her way past everyone gathered there to grab her bag which you had thrown into the street during the confrontation. Bella quickly runs up to you, grabbing your face to look you over the second Rafe lets you go. "Are you okay? God- that was scary!" She exclaims, satisfied though that you only have minor scratches and bruises.

"I'm fine." You smile at her, shaking your head a little. "Sorry, I just kind of blacked out for a minute." You joke, gently hugging her.

"Yeah, it was hot." Rafe adds, arms crossed as he stands behind you. You roll your eyes at him, hiding your blush in Bella's shirt.

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[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: ghost!gojo x f!reader, post manga, alternative au where the worst but not the worst happens, reader has a slight fear of cats, reader is an art therapist for satoru's nephew, loosley inspired by "would that I" by hozier <3 a/n: this is untitled, but if people like it, I'd love to write another piece. I've had this idea for several weeks now, so I'm glad to have written something out of it. this piece is just self-indulgent and it feels like a prologue to something if that makes sense. part 2

You don't think you've ever known peace like this, the cool fall breeze causing your hair to gently brush over your shoulders while the leaves rustle, from a distance, the wind chimes ring with no rush, no sense of time seemingly passes in the air.

"you should probably head inside Hotaru, it's cold," you sweetly tell the five-year-old in front of you, adjusting his hat so that his ears are covered from the breeze. it was nearly 6, dinnertime, and your tutoring hours with the gojo clan member were now over.

his nanny watches you from the distance as she holds the door, opening it slightly so that the boy knows his time with you is over, but you can't help but to feel thankful she has given you an extra moment with the boy.

"why don't wanna eat with us?" he asks, and the pout on his lips is nearly enough to break your heart.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," you cup his cheek, "but only your family gets to eat dinner. I have my own home to get to too, but I promise when I come back we can have that picnic I promised you, yes?"

"only if you promise to bring your teddy with mine," he sniffles, and you want to smile at his negotiation skills, but the sniffles he makes reminds you once again how sensitive the boy was to the cold.

"alright, fine," you give him a warm smile, ushering him to walk towards the door that stands several feet away. "go, your nanny is waiting for you." and he nods, a small smile planted on his lips before his lips touch your cheek, his rosy, red nose coldly touches your cheek, prompting you to smile.

"bye bye, miss honey," he says, a name he's grown fond of calling you.

"bye bye, sunshine." a name you've warmed to call the child.

the boy then hurries off to his nanny, he excitedly pulls a leaf from the inside of his sweater, and you smile, remembering how you told him it was possible to trace a leaf (just like his hand in the shape of a turkey), and with excitement, the boy disappears into the house, following his nanny.

no more than 3 minutes pass before the woman, whom you guess is in her early 50's, approaches you. her grey hairs begin to reach the tips of her ears, and the wrinkles around her eyes adjust as she smiles, carrying a mug. you wonder if you'll be lucky to have wrinkles like that one day.

"he seemed excited," she muses, sitting next to you, handing you the mug.

"thank you,''

"he says you taught him how to draw a turkey using his hand. I've never seen a boy that excited since-"

"...since?" you politley whisper, catching her pause.

"nevermind," she smiles at you. "he just reminds me of a boy I used to babysit years ago, his uncle."

"oh,"

she nods, "you're welcome to stay here for the night if you'd like. I hear it might rain,"

"it's only a 50% chance, so I think I'll be fine." you chuckle nervously, "but thank you. can I... can I stay here? just for a few more minutes?"

hotaru's nanny looks beyond the garden, a nearby tree that you would always read under with hotaru tucked to your side makes her smile weakly. "of course, she says, take your time. let me know if you'll be staying with us for the night, it's never too late if you do." and in a moment, she gracefully bids you goodbye before heading in, leaving you alone in the garden.

you sigh, taking in a sip of the warm chamomile tea she brought you. the gojo clan was always a mystery to you, but working here for nearly 5 months definitely confirmed that the gojo's were always hiding something. it was just that you weren't a curse user, just a girl with above average matrilineal intuition.

there was always something special about hotaru, you realized instantly after meeting him that he carried a certain 'aura' to him. you tried to justify if with the fact that his family concealed his exposure to the world, but when hotaru would murmur soft words as he colored, or drew a picture of a man with white hair holding his hand (both smiling), you asked him who is that?

's my uncle, the boy told you, he comes visit me when no one's around.

there. that seemed to be the missing piece all along. not the fact that hotaru's mother was too sick to see her son, or the fact that his dad was always out for meetings, it was that the boy was connected to a family member that long passed.

so you let it go, not making a big deal out of it even though your brain itched to know more. does he see him? what does he tell him? is he safe? you wondered to yourself that day, but you would later find out that yes, he does see him and yes, he is safe. the boy does as much to tell you nearly everything he knows, and for that you are grateful to have his trust.

"my uncle says I should play with other kids, instead," he tells you one day, "papa says no, but I tell (uncle) that I have you,"

"oh, and what does he say?"

"nothing," the boy answers simply.

"does he... what does he think of me?"

"he just says to do a good job around you. says coloring is fun,''

you hum, nodding in thought. for the last month, hotaru was slightly more distracted. although he was doing a tremendous job in your art sessions, as his art therapist you couldn't help but wonder if his occasional absent mindedness had anything to do with the presence of his uncle.

but tonight, everything felt different.

"I can feel you're around," you say, loud enough for the trees to hear, but quiet enough to not cause any commotion. "you've been watching us for some time, and I know it." setting your cup of tea down, you focus your gaze on the tree, as if something were there. but that didn't feel quite right. something in the energy was not quite right.

to your left, you suddenly jump from your seat as a white cat passes by your feet, and you nearly shriek, startled. you weren't exactly fond of cats, but you didn't despise them. if you could always avoid them, you would, but being around them slightly made you self-conscious as you were scratched by one when you were younger, forming a mistrust around them.

with a slight huff and nod to yourself, you call it a night, standing up and leaving behind the mug of tea. from a distance, satoru watches as you make your way past the gates of the garden and he half snickers, half watches you in interest before the white cat slowly circles him. "aw, you scared her, didn't you mochi?"

the cat meows lazily, moments before yawning and taking a seat next to satoru who watches you from the same tree he also sat in when you read to hotaru.

[apalkenndream1]

I'll Follow You Into The Dark || !Tav/!Reader x Astarion

(The brain worms demand this be posted)

Tags: fluff, soft, full squad, end-game spoilers

Word Count: 3,664

With the Netherbrain defeated and everyone cured of the tadpoles, Astarion has to flee from the sun once again. You follow him, of course, so he doesn't have to face the darkness alone. You head to the Underdark to help the vampire spawns find their way in this new world. Watching Astarion help his brothers and sisters warms your heart, reminding you of their freedom and how far he has come. He was once a man who only knew to live one way: deceive others and fight his way through everything. Now, he accepts the role of being a hero and helps out his siblings when he could've left them behind. Of course, his personality stays the same, including his sass and silly jokes in every interaction with them.

The two of you have found a home to call your own, making it comfortable for the time you can spend alone. While there may not be any sun to bask in, you make it comfortable with lanterns and a fireplace to keep you both warm. However, it never seems like quite enough.

_____________________________________________________________

Lately, it seems Astarion has been less of himself, diving into readings and drawings instead of keeping up in conversation. Similar to humans having seasonal depression, it seems this vampire has a similar affliction. He has become a recluse, only coming alive when he's helping out the vampire spawns. You decide to bring it up to him, hoping to find a way to help him out.

"Hey," you say softly, hoping not to disturb him.

"Hello, beautiful." He smiles softly, finally looking away from his book.

"Whatcha drawin'?" You say casually, ensuring he doesn't know what's happening.

"My muse, darling. You." He uses his wicked grin, the one that always knocks the wind out of you. You softly giggle, eyeing his drawings of you.

His attention to detail, including your wrinkles around your mouth and by your eyes. He shades every detail exactly, capturing your essence in picture-perfect form. It's like you're looking into a grayscale mirror.

"Wow, you're incredibly talented. That looks incredible." You're taken aback by his abilities, speechless.

He blushes slightly, as much as a vampire can, "Oh, you're too kind. Now, what did you actually want to talk about?" He says, a little more sternly, as he can see you're holding back.

You sigh, let out a large breath, and look into his striking red eyes, "You seem a little...off. I'm worried about you, is everything okay?"

His eyes drop, and he sets down his book, looking at his hands, "I miss our adventures, our team, and the sun. A part of me wishes we had never gotten rid of those tadpoles. A part of me wishes it had never ended so that we could still be out exploring the world, exploring my home. I guess I didn't realize how much it affected me."

Your eyes well slightly; he has never been able to be this open to anyone before. You know how important it is to take this lightly, and you must comfort him. You wrap your arm around his shoulders and smile softly at him, "I miss it too, but we also got to save a lot of good people. I'd rather be down here, safe, with you than, ya know...growing tentacles and eating brains."

He laughs softly at you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. "I know you're right; it's just a hard thing to move past...Thank you for talking to me; I love you." He stands up, giving you a peck on the forehead, "I'm going to go gather some things for dinner; I'll be back shortly."

You both smile softly at each other and say, "I love you too." before he heads out. While it helped slightly, you can tell that he is still not 100% back to himself. Then, a lightbulb goes off, and you know exactly what you must do.

______________________________________________________________

You leave him a note so he knows you haven't disappeared forever:

Dearest Astarion,

I will be gone for a short while, but I will be back shortly. I've gone into the city, as someone needed some help retrieving an important item for them. Continue with dinner; this shouldn't take me long. I love you, see you soon.

Yours always,

(Y/N)

You gather some supplies for your trek back to Baldur's Gate, made simple by the Ancient Sigels, and get ready to assemble some people as well.

___________________________________________________________

Your first stop is the Sorcerous Sundries, assuming that's where he might be staking out. Since the end of Lorrokan, the tower has been home to Rolan, but he also wanted to learn more about the weave. What better person to do that with than Gale? He also took over the entire running of the Sundries, ensuring knowledge was accessible to all wizards. As you walk in, a familiar face lights up and runs to you with arms wide open.

As you embrace him, he laughs, "I wasn't sure you'd ever come out of the Underdark without your trusty lover!"

You chuckle, "It's good to see you too, Gale." You back up from him, looking him over in his newest and finest robes.

"You're on a mission, I see. What can I do for you?" Gale says, his voice more matter-of-fact.

You sigh, hoping he will understand what you're getting at, "Astarion hasn't been himself lately. He seems down like he needs a pick-me-up. I hoped to gather everyone to get together and see if that helps. Would you be willing to come to our home for a small party?"

Gale looks inquisitively at you like he's trying to read your mind. Then, he lets out a laugh as he grabs your shoulders, "Of course I'll come! Anything to help an old chum out of a rut. I'll also let Rolan and the tieflings know; it would be great for them to take a break!"

You smile, giving him a firm hug with a bit of a squeeze, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You don't know what else to do, as thanks would never be enough.

You head off to your next destination with a large smile on your face.

____________________________________________________________

One of the few places with a lot of greenery is where two of your Druid friends spend their time: Halsin and Jaheira. When you find them in Bloomridge Park, you see them and Arabella assisting other Druids to become one with nature. They are so focused on the task at hand that they almost don't see you walking up.

"Y/N!!" Arabella shrieks, running to give you a hug around your legs. You bend down to return the favor.

Halsin smiles in your direction, crossing his arm across his chest and smiling towards you. "It is great to see you, friend. It's been a while; glad to see you getting some sun."

"Welcome back," Jaheira says softly, giving you a nod.

"Hello to you all. It's great to see you helping out the younglings," You grin, wondering if you'll be asking too much of them. Taking them away from the younglings seems like a large ask, considering the kids are new to this side of nature. You start to second-guess yourself, wondering what aspects this might have against them.

"You are concerned; let us know what you are thinking," says Jaheira, a fellow look of concern on her face.

"I don't want to take you away from these children; it seems like a bad time to ask something of you." You kick the ground lightly, feeling nervous.

Halsin smiles, looking at you caringly, "Whatever you have to ask, I'm sure it is necessary."

You look up at them all; they have warming smiles on their faces, making you feel better. "Okay, well, Astarion has been feeling a little down lately. I was thinking of ways to make him feel better, so I thought about getting everyone together in the Underdark. It's a lot safer, and Astarion has been working with the vampire spawn to teach them how to take care of themselves properly. Only if you're able to; not a big deal if not." You realize you have rambled on to them and get nervous awaiting their answer.

"YES! Let's go, please, please, please!" Arabella shouts, vibrating with excitement.

Halsin and Jaheira laugh, holding onto her shoulders to try to calm her down. "Of course, we'll be there, Y/N. That is never too much to ask of us." Halsin exclaims, smiling to try to comfort you. Jaheira nods in agreement, a similar smile across her face.

You grab them in a group hug, feeling fulfillment all throughout your body. "Thank you. I appreciate this more than you will ever know." With a final squeeze, you allow them to get back to their hard work.

___________________________________________________________

Your idea is finally coming into fulfillment, adding a skip to your step as you head to Wyrm's Rock Fortress. There are quite a few people you can talk to here, but the chances of them being able to step away is very slim. The first stop is the barracks to chat with the two behind getting the military ready to protect the people. You walk in to see them hard at work, helping the beef up the crew.

"A'right, soldiers, take a moment to recoup before we get back into the training," Karlach states in a stern tone, one you've never heard.

"T'saik, I never rested in my training; you are too soft, Karlach," Lae'zal exclaimed, rolling her eyes at this obviously tense partnership. Karlach gives her a soft punch on the shoulder when she sees you out of the corner.

"No fucking way," she states, running towards you and tackle hugging you. Lae'zal sanders over with the slightest smile on her lips.

"Why are you here?" she asks, some confusion in her voice. It's only suitable; it's been a month since you've seen the surface.

You let out a sigh, feeling their confusion, happiness, and slight sadness. You've been so concerned with helping Astarion that you never thought about how it could affect the others.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so long and that I've come to ask a favor. I should've come and visited earlier; I apologize." You say sheepishly.

"Oh, soldier, don't worry about it. I'm sure you've been just as busy as us." Karlach states, flinging their arm around your shoulders. Lae'zal crosses her arms, looking into your eyes with dismay.

"I still came to visit." She seems a little more cranky than usual, probably since she's here helping people who aren't even Githyanki. Perhaps it's disappointment in her high expectations, or maybe she's worn out from defeating Vlaaketh and rebuilding her home.

"Lae'zal, ease up, will ya?" Karlach says, her eyes a little more piercing than usual. "What do ya need?" She smiles towards you, her arm still on your shoulders.

"I wanted to see if you could come and do a bit of a house party for Astarion. He's been feeling quite depressed since we went to the Underdark, and I think it would cheer him up." You try to sound enthusiastic, but it comes out a bit more pleading than you want.

"Always aiding him when you should be here with us," Lae'zal says through gritted teeth. This statement grants her another intense stare from Karlach, to which she just bears her teeth at her.

Karlach looks back towards you and grins, "We will be there after we finish training. I'm sure they won't mind a night's rest from this one." She points over at Lae'zal, who just rolls her eyes at the gesture. You smile and give Karlach a big hug, which no longer burns since fixing her engine. You glance at Lae'zal, who finally uncrosses her arms and relaxes as much as she can.

"I will be there by no choice of my own." Lae'zal scoffs, a sign that she isn't as upset as she gives off.

"Alright, where's Wyll? He's next on my list." You say, looking around and expecting him to be there. Usually, he is around to help the Blades of Avernus grow and learn how to protect the city.

"Oh, he's downstairs. That's where the Blades practice after he rebuilt the old prison as a training ground." Karlach says before turning back to the trainees. "Break over! Let's get back to it."

As they line up, you head down to what used to be Wyrm's Rock prison. Once you get down the stairs, you take in the new training area. It's fitted with all the best weapons, shields, and armor that Baldur's Gate has to offer. As you look around in awe, you hear Wyll helping the Blades of Avernus gain in ranks.

"Blades, we have a special guest; please give them your respect," Wyll states before you can even process it. All the Blades stand up and give you a sign of respect. You nod towards the soldiers, and Wyll says, "At ease, back to your training."

He turns to you and smiles, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You smile back at him with the same twinge in your stomach that you had when talking to Karlach and Lae'zal. "I'm getting everyone together for a get-together at my home. I was hoping you might be able to come. Astarion is having a hard time, and I think it could cheer him up." You look up at him softly with the same break in your voice.

"You can count on me." He says, saluting you with a grin. "I should be done shortly; I'll head there as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Wyll. I'll see you tonight!" You bounce off, successfully recruiting all your friends for a fun night.

____________________________________________________________

Before heading home, you head to Behive General Goods to gather some goods for tonight. You realize that it's going to be hard to surprise Astarion with all of these people and groceries. It's time for you to add a step to your plan.

You head back to the Underdark, hiding your groceries somewhere Astarion couldn't see them. You then head to Dalyria's home, heading to ask her for help with distracting her 'brother.' You knock on the door, waiting for a response before walking in.

Dalyria opens the door and smiles once she sees your face. "Y/N! Come on in." You walk through the door, returning her smile.

"Hi, Dalyria, I have a favor to ask. Could you possibly distract Astarion for an hour or two? I have a surprise for him." You smile brightly towards her.

"Easily. I'll go over there now! Do you need him to leave the house?" She says kindly, happy to assist obliviously.

"Yes, please! There will be quite a few people. Can you also ask your other siblings to come over a little earlier? You and Petra can come with him when the time comes."

"Yes, I absolutely can do that. Oh, I am so excited. It's been a while since I've had to keep a secret." You instantly know what she means, but try not to let the thought hold you too long.

_____________________________________________________________

Once you see Astarion leave with Dalyria, you grab your hidden groceries and get the party set up. While you don't have to make food for him, you start cooking for your food-eating friends. Along with that, you set up some carafes of wine out on the table. Once you have things finished, you hear familiar voices outside your home. You run up to the door and open it to a crowd of faces that light up your heart. They start pouring in, each with something in their hand. This went from a small party to a much larger gathering than you expected. Thankfully, they brought enough to cover everyone.

You look around as your longest friends mingle with each other, laughing and filling your home with warmth and joy. You can't wait to see how Astarion reacts when he shows up with Dalyria. The vampires come in shortly after everyone arrives and begin mingling with the crowd. Your plan has finally come together and ended up even better than you imagined.

______________________________________________________________

When you see Astarion approaching the house, you shush everyone for his entrance. As he opens the front door, everyone simultaneously shouts, "SURPRISE!" Astarion looks around in absolute shock, taken back by all the kind and familiar faces. He lets out a loud laugh as everyone joins in, surrounding him to say hello. You allow him to mingle around with his long-missed friends to allow him to glow up.

You watch him at a distance, smiling as you see him joking and laughing with everyone. Seeing him return to himself brings you a joy unmatched by anything you've felt since you first met. He looks around, locks eyes with you, mouthing 'I love you' and grinning. You mouth 'I love you more' back to him, winking as you move to mingle with the others. You walk over to the group to listen to the conversations being had.

You listen to adventures retold, new experiences from the point you all split ways, and everything in between. From Gale's tales with Tressym and Rolan to Wyll's expertise with the Blades of Avernus, everything seems to feel back to normal with everyone except Lae'zal. She is recluse, not talking with everyone and keeping to herself. You decide to speak to her privately to see what you can get out of her.

_____________________________________________________________

"Lae'zal, can we speak, please?" You say softly so the others don't hear.

"Tsk'va, why would I want to talk to you? I am only here because of Karlach." She scoffs, crossing her arms like she did at Wyrm's Rock. You sigh softly at her, grabbing her arm to drag her outside. She yelps, but you get her outside before she can throw a fit.

"Let me go, istik." She hisses, yanking her arm away from you. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I'm here to ask you what is going on. Why are you so angry at me?" You say, crossing your arms to meet her energy.

She rolls her eyes, annoyed at you. "Is it not obvious? You left us for SO long, not even a word or a letter. You could've been dead for all we knew. Then, you come back and ask us to do you this favor when we know you'll just leave again. This will be the last time you see me." She glares at you, keeping the energy she's had the whole time.

You sigh, understanding her frustration and taking it in. She's completely valid in her concerns, but you aren't sure what to say to make her feel better. "You are completely valid in your feelings. I got so encompassed down here that I didn't think about the effects it would have on everyone else. I'm sorry; I truly am. I promise going forward that, I will come up with more. We can plan night events as well to bring Astarion around. I should've done this from the beginning, but I will correct my actions going forth."

Lae'zal takes a deep breath and relaxes her stance more. "If you break this promise, I will never forgive you. I will leave you behind like I have done to many before you. I will accept it...for now." She glances at you and then back inside. You take the hint and follow her back into the party.

______________________________________________________________

When you return, it seems that no one noticed your little skiff outside, and they're still mingling together. You go and grab yourself a drink from the table when a hand all too familiar to yourself rests on your shoulder.

"Thank you, darling," Astarion whispers, kissing you on the cheek gently. You smile at the kiss and turn to him to see his soft smile. "This means so much to me; how did you know I needed it?"

"I know you better than you know yourself. I needed it as well, ya know?" You smile as you rest your hand on his cheek. He rests his face against your hand, closing his eyes to your soft touch. This moment makes you both forget you're in a room full of people. You softly rub his cheek, but your moment is quickly dispelled by hooting and hollering by your friends in the room. Astarion whips back at them, and they immediately silence themselves, sipping their drinks. He bursts into laughter and heads back to the group, winking back at you. You join them, telling stories and gaggling about everything. The night flows into the morning, wrapped in love and friendship for the whole time.

______________________________________________________________

Everyone has left, most helping to clean up and leaving you and Astarion to relax after the long party. He sits on the couch, and you lay next to him, resting your head on his lap. He plays with your hair as you sit in silence, closing your eyes to his touch. You sit in silence for a while, the first in the last few hours. After a while, he breaks the silence in a hushed voice.

"This night is one I won't forget for a while. I didn't realize how long it had been since we had seen everyone. I missed the laughter, the stories, and their presence. Thank you, dear. I will never be able to stop thanking you." He smiles at your calm face, looking at every crevice that he adores.

You open your eyes and smile back at him, looking lovingly in his eyes. "I would do it again, a thousand times over, just to see that lovely smile of yours." You sit up, bringing him into a soft kiss, feeling him smile throughout. Your kiss deepens, filled with passion, love, and thrill. You pull back, resting your forehead against his, both grinning from ear to ear.

"It's nice to have you back."

"It's good to be back, my sweet."

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Season 1 Wrap-Up

*This is a wrap-up post for my Twiyor analysis series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

As some of you may know, I'm fairly new to the SxF fandom, having only started watching the anime in October of last year. But it didn't take long for me to become hyperfixated enough to binge the manga, start my own blog, and develop ideas for analysis posts.

I've always enjoyed meta writing for my favorite fandoms, and SxF is definitely one of those! While I like many things about the story and characters, the Forgers overall, especially Twiyor, are my favorite thing about it, so I wanted to focus my first analysis posts on them. During my early months in the fandom, I found lots of good analyses and was impressed by the amount of talented fan writers out there. But rather than write random stand-alone posts, I wanted to express all my thoughts in chronological order. I eventually came up with the idea for this post series in December of last year, and after spending a solid month of writing during most of my free time, I finally felt I had enough to begin posting on a weekly basis.

Now that I've come to the end of the season 1 posts, I want to express my sincerest thanks to everyone who read them, especially those who left nice comments and reblogs. Even for those of you who only left likes, I appreciate it! I pay attention to the notes on my blog and it always makes my day to see the same people interacting with each new post every week. It's especially gratifying when I see a new person come along and leave a like on each post in order, one after another! In the many fandoms I've been in over the years, I always write for myself and my own enjoyment first, regardless of whether other people will enjoy my writing too. But it's nice to know that other people can also appreciate how I interpret things.

So here's what's going to happen with the post series going forward…

Since I want to continue keeping the posts as manga spoiler-free as possible, I won't start releasing the next batch of posts until season 2 airs (it's scheduled to air in October). I'll most likely release part 19 and onward towards the middle or end of season 2's run. I already have a good idea of what manga chapters will be adapted and will get them queued up beforehand.

On that note, I did end up having to tag a few of the season 1 posts for manga spoilers. I tried to avoid it as much as possible; I only discussed manga spoilers if I felt not doing so would be a disservice to my analysis. However, once season 2 airs, all but part 18 should be safe for anime-only fans! (I'll go back to those posts and remove the spoiler tags)

At some point during or slightly before season 2's airing, I plan to reblog all of my Twiyor analysis posts in order. If I can get the timing right, I hope to reblog part 18 (the last season 1 post) right before my start date for the first season 2 post. I'll probably do the reblogs just a few days apart before doing weekly releases again when I get to the new posts (for the reblogs, I'll be using the hashtag "#reblog for season 2 hype")

I don't have any other big analysis posts planned until then, with one exception…I do plan to write a post about Anya. I originally wanted to include her in the chronological series, but since her character arc is simpler and more straight-forward compared to Twilight's and Yor's, I didn't have nearly as much to say about her and figured it'd be best to talk about her in a separate post. Not sure when I'll release that post but should be sometime before season 2 as well.

Guess that's all for now! Thank you again to everyone who read this post series and I look forward to more compelling discussions in season 2!

[sinvulkt]

20 Questions For Writers

Wow, thank you so much for the tag @fanfictasia !! I've wanted to participate in something like this forever!! 🎶✨️✨️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now? 66.

"Yes, as a star wars writer, I am very proud of that. No, I do not intend to change it anytime soon."

I really need to focus on (and finish) some of my WIPs, and that mean trying not to disperse my energy amidst one shots (no matter how much i love monthly challenges and fic exchange events). Also I'm very proud of that 66 count and want to appreciate it xd.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

321k words!!

(More or less 100k / year 🎶 little me would never believe that 0.0

My school exam results sure don't, with how they are dropping 🤣)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star wars mostly (Vaderkin or my OC Sinvulkt), then Marvel (Dr Strange), Dream SMP (Dream), Le Visiteur du Future (Renard) and more recently Batman (Bruce Wayne) as well as Avatar: the last airbender (Zuko).

Plus the original stories I am supposed to write but almost never end up doing xd (the engagement in fandom compared to original stories make the switch hard xd).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Dreamt of a Never Ending Sky (Dream SMP)

669 kudos

2. To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)

480 kudos

3. On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

380 kudos

4. Scales of Embers (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

353 kudos

5. Crash Landing on Space Australia (Star Wars)

319 kudos

I'll never know how my Dream SMP fic got so much engagement. Good timing at a moment the fandom was in effervescence, I guess. Scales of Embers scoring so high is also a surprise 0.0. I discovered it had that many kudos today. It’s a shame the Dr Strange fandom is small because I think my Dr Strange WIP What If Doctor Strange Lost His Humanity ? would have deserved a place here. It definitely does in my heart.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! As a reader, I always feel super happy when the author shows that they’ve read and appreciated my comments. I know that personality an author who answers make me more likely to want to drop a comment.

As an author, I absolutely want to show how much I love every single comments, so I try to answer them all. But I get a little overwhelmed sometimes, bcs lots of other stuff going on irl or another reason. As such, it can happen that I don't feel the energy to answer a comment on the spot. And if I don't answer it on the spot (using the power of the wiggy dizzy nice happy feeling of getting a comment), I don't necessarily have the energy to answer later on. I currently have something like 60 unanswered comments I think? TT.TT

But rest assured that whether I answered or not, I absolutely adore and cherish every single ones!! Comments are amazing! ✨️.✨️

(This kind of engagement is one of the only reason I managed to settle into such an active rythm of writing after years of trying then dropping the hobby~)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Glance at my fics.

Uhhh... This is a hard question here... Many of them have angsty endings XD

Mostly the ones at the beginning (the worst written ones xd). I wonder why~

Also a lot of them don' have endings yet XD

I'll say amidst the 'old' fics from 2021, Day 8 - Screaming (Star Wars) would be the angstier one (or most horrible one ig xd).

But as far as recent fic go... While I haven't finished writing it bcs its wordcount exploded in my face, I already plotted / drafted it a few months ago and I know the ending, so I'll choose:

Batman’s Downfall (To Stand Alone) (Batman)

I noticed my kind of angst doesn’t have much success around these parts 🫠🤣. Oh well. I cherish it all the same :3.

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

Sometimes I think I wrote too many fics. It's hard to select one.

Uhhh... My fluffiest works are one shots in Of Feathers and Freedom serie, but they are part of the series so it’s not really an 'ending'.

...

I'll answer for the crackiest story rather than the happiest ending bcs all my finished fics ending are ominous open ending at best xd.

The Blob Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi (Star Wars)

Because it's cute blob drawings of our crazy team of OC in taaoej, and I love them (although we are all angst lovers in taaoej, so it's more crack-angst, and we don't know the ending bcs there isn't really one. Not yet at least. Hopefully never).

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Just my own innervoice as far as I'm aware. But then I've always been rather clueless when people tried to 'hate on me'. The message usually just got lost somewhere in dreamspace immensity, never computing.

I've found the fandoms communities really welcoming at the very least!!

9. Do you write smut?

No.

I don't really enjoy reading smut. Nor romance for the matter. I don't think I'd enjoy writing it.

But maybe I'll try one day, for the sake of experimenting all genres.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I never did. I don't know why. Maybe I just never felt the need to mix characters and universes. There are amazing crossovers out there though, so who knows, maybe one day I'll try one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. In all honesty, I don't think my works are nearly popular enough to get stolen xd.

My writing style isn’t that good yet, and my dislike of romance when the majority of the fandom community is ship-powered means I end up in a corner quite niche. (A corner I love, that being said. Yay Crack, Angst and Gen~)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but maybe I'll translate some of mine in french someday. Be it only so that I do write fiction in my native language from time to time.

Anyone that wanna translate my fics, feel free to!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)!!

I’m still waiting for my co-author @purpleopossum to come back to me / get back in star wars mood to continue that one. 🫠

Can’t say my hopes are that high up after all this time, but it’s the redemption | healing part of the serie and I don’t really have fun writing alone redemption | healing part... i prefer doing the whole mayhem that create the injury in the first place. And with how long some of my fics hiatus are (and I got no excuse for those xd), it’s only fair for me to wait. (I did write more other works for the dragon Vader serie in the meantime xd).

I made an oath to myself to never leave a work unfinished though, so we’ll see. If in several years purple still doesn’t wish to continue it, or if she inform me she is dropping the story, I’ll try to make some kind of ending. It’s part of the game i guess.

Alternatively, the The Amazing Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi universe is a group of star wars OCs that we made together with @pat-the-togorian , @asteral-feileacan , @ct2002-rema and Xylian. I don’t know if that count as co-writing? We usually write our OCs pov.

But in all cases, co-writting is very fun and I’d definitely do it again if other opportunities arise in the future.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

The absence of ship is my all-time favorite ship. Otherwise, "main character / digging their own grave" would be my 'favorite ship' since I tend to synch with idiots snarky jerks disasters.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars) that I mentioned for question 13? 🤣

More seriously, I'll answer On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

Because it's my vent fic. I know the main plot line, I vaguely know the current arc, but no one can predict where the next arc will go. It's all pure impulse and while I have a vague idea of 'ending', I refuse to plan a path towards it. This fic specifically, I want to keep pure impulse. So I'd love for it to become some kind of "The NeverEnding Story". :3

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I write.

No seriously, it's not something I did four years ago appart from vent poems here and there. Writing is in itself a huge writing strenght!

Otherwise I'm also a bottomless well of idea. It's pretty neat.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

... romance?

Or dialogues. Lastly I have a lot of frustration around the transition from dialogue / transition / dialogue. I feel like I'm crap at properly timing that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's fun. I do it for games sometimes. Since apparently writing normally is not chllenging enough for my brain sometimes. It did teach me bits of mando'a.

Recently for Sēċan (Star Wars) I decided last minute to put the whole droid dialogue in morse, and I regret none of it.

I'm usually only doing it for one shots though, and never 'official existing' languages until now.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star wars :p

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Now that's another hard question, how am I supposed to select one.

I'm gonna answer the whole Of Feathers And Freedom (Star Wars) serie. Bcs wings. :3

Tag time~ (if you wish to)

@purpleopossum @pat-the-togorian @cinderfeather @beguilewritesstuff @purple-iris @dreaminghour @ravenite-void @trickstress333 @bluntblade @doctorgeekery @stewardofningishzida @jenae-0 @trickstress333 @kittonafoxgirl @pastelcourage @salparadiselost @kefalion @charlottevader @ravenstakeflight @starr234 @aelaer @sarcasticfirefighter @mckiwi @linzerj @sonderwalker @exomal @tonhalszendvics @nephilimswitchlight @firejay112 @only-here-for-the-star-wars @ajedilikehisfather @makaronik @chickadeechickadoo @dirtkid123 @numerousbees1106 @akizumy @25centsoda @udekai @wendingways @silvereddaye @in-company-of-misery @wisechaosglitter @kuraiarcoiris @alright-anakin @wyvunn you're more than welcome to join on the interview fun!! (Or to ignore the tagging if not interested xd).

I know I tagged. I lot of people. Some of you may recognise my pseud, some may not. But I thought it would be interesting to hear the answer of the various authors with whom I interacted on ao3 over the years, so I went and digged up those with tumblr I could find from my inbox 🤣

(Hopefully I didn’t bother any of you >.< - otherwise I apologize. Same for if I accidentally tagged a non-writer.)

I'd love to hear your answers! 🎶

[davycoquette]

the interview 2/3

PART ONE

Gingerly stepping over Robert Barclay's stiffening corpse, I cross the kitchen to pick up the phone hanging on the wall. The dial tone buzzes, filling my ear like the droning of flies. Bile gurgles into my throat, and I hang up so I can swallow it back down.

I sink to my haunches, dropping my notebook and recorder. My fingers claw through my hair and I curl into myself. My mantra goes, "Oh, God. Jesus. Fuck."

A deep groan answers from behind me.

My heart launches into my mouth and I pirouette out of my crouch. I only manage to twist and land on my ass, then crab-walk a few paces from Robert Barclay’s corpse. This is the first good look I’ve gotten at his face. He looks like one of those wax figures in a museum, but on a day when the AC’s busted. His eyes stand wide open and his mouth is agape, resin teeth slanted like they're ready to drop out. One hand is stretched out toward me and the other is curled into his chest.

"Rob? Rob, are you…" Still in there?

It's gas escaping. Some crime scene investigator I talked to a couple years back mentioned this happened when we were gearing up for the interview. It always stuck with me, popping into my conscience intermittently. Death is embarrassing. It's always embarrassed me. I don't know why.

His body gives a little squeak and I gag.

I guess someday this is gonna be me. Maybe someday soon. This is why my momma calls all the time. She thinks I'm gonna overdose, and some jackass is gonna walk in on me stiff on a floor somewhere.

R. Barclay's sounds have attracted his little terrier, and it's sniffing around his face. I summon it away with a click of my tongue and put my hand out. It scurries over with its nubby tail going fast and licks at my fingers, and I scrub its saliva over the crown of its head before picking myself up off the floor.

Robert Barclay is one of those writers who’ll remain a household name. They already make you read one of his books when you're in high school. He's a 'great American' author, and I'll be the forgotten asshole who missed the chance to do his last interview.

If I just got here yesterday, I think. Or did he kick it yesterday?

I look at his little dog, and it sort of looks back at me with its beady eyes that skew in opposite directions.

"Where's your food at, baby?" I ask, and it turns in a tight circle. "Ready to eat? You want breakfast?"

More circles.

I start going through cabinets, but I'm met with leaning towers of pots and pans and plastic containers in each one. He can't have used any of this shit in years. Poor old guy's probably been living on crackers and buffet cafeterias. He never had kids. Never married.

Up until now, he'd been driving himself — I saw his Buick out front where I parked my Amigo. It was like any other geezer's car: beat up around the bumper. Grey, enormous.

The little dog tires of my searching and tap-dances over to a plastic bin near the sliding door where Robert Barclay has his breakfast nook. There's hard bread crumbs on the glass-top table, a few little ants scurrying up and down the wall.

I scoop some kibble out of the bin and deposit it in the dog's food bowl. It lets me check the tag on its collar while it's scarfing the little cardboard flavored nuggets down. Raisin. The name is familiar, I realize; the little author biography blurb I read when I took the job mentioned something about R. Barclay living alone with his dog, Raisin.

While Raisin crunches kibbles, I stand and lean against the counter.

"I was gonna ask if you were working on anything," I tell Rob's body. "And if you ever thought your books were gonna be required reading for schoolkids."

Raisin dislodges a kibble with a wet sounding cough.

"I was gonna ask who you like reading these days."

I scrub my hand over my forehead, rake my fingers through my hair. My hand drops and I stare down at him. "Who do you like reading these days, Rob?"

A clock above the sink ticks as I stand over him. I haven't done much else since breaking in apart from feeding his dog. When he didn't come to the door, I'd stepped down off the concrete slab of his porch to shield my eyes and peer through his living room window, and I could see his silhouette on the kitchen floor from the front of the house. His place is situated out in the countryside, not a neighbor in sight. He doesn't lock his windows, so I let myself in so I could use his phone to call the ambulance.

But there's no hurry. It's not like I want to spend more time than I have to with this unexpectedly stiff and cold version of Robert Barclay, but there's a little part of me that's irrationally concerned I'll be blamed for his death. I have to talk myself down from that ledge: you had an appointment. He's been dead for hours, at least. What motive could you have possibly had? I guess I'm already anxious about what Jason's gonna say; it makes everything feel like one grand conspiracy to ruin me.

I've got some pills in my Isuzu Amigo parked outside. Standing there with my hip leaned against R. Barclay's kitchen counter, I think I better go pop one or four. I'll seem more collected, less suspicious, when the cops get here.

…Will they send cops?

PART THREE

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 50 - Telling HR (The H Stands for Hilary)

Oh. Word spreads fast, I guess. They should probably tell Xander's family before they hear it from someone else.

You know these two love their shower woohoo!

Well, apparently Ophelia takes her phone into the shower with her, because Becca calls her with a very urgent question. Of course she tells her to say yes!

Talk about multitasking!

Newly discovered neat freak Xander helps Ophelia out with laundry.

Xander: Why do you have your initials on all your clothes labels? What are you, ten? Ophelia: I used to do my laundry at a laundromat and I didn't want to accidentally take someone else's panties home. Sue me!

Ophelia: Now that things are official, we should probably tell Hilary and Hector, right?

Xander: Definitely.

Ophelia: It's going to be weird to look my boss in the eye and tell her I'm dating her brother.

Hilary is managing the restaurant while their parents are away but she can make time for her baby brother.

Hilary: Alexander, what a surprise! You don’t have a shift today. And Ophelia, hello.

Xander: Hey, Hil. Can we talk?

Hilary: Sure. Is it work-related?

Xander: Sort of.

Ophelia can’t help but feel awkward. This is not only her boss, but her boyfriend’s sister. She doesn’t know how to say it.

Ophelia: Xander and I have started seeing each other. Romantically. Like, as a couple. That date.

Xander: Smooth, babe.

Hilary takes a second and nods.

Hilary: I see. Thank you for letting me know. Obviously Hector and I don’t discourage workplace relationships, as it’d be a bit hypocritical. I trust you both to keep things professional.

Ophelia: Of course. Thank you.

Hilary: Okay, that was my reaction as your boss. Now, Xander, as your sister, let me just say I’m thrilled for you two. I’m happy you found someone good for you. Come here.

It’s kind of weird getting a hug from your boss, but Hilary actually gives great hugs.

Xander: You don’t seem that surprised.

Hilary: That’s because I’m not, Alexander, I was just trying to be polite.

Xander: So you knew?

Hilary: I figured you were seeing someone, since our parents say you’ve been spending the night elsewhere half the time.

Ophelia: Oh. But you didn’t know it was me?

Hilary: Not until I was helping Mom with housework the other day. I was doing Xander’s laundry and found a thong with the initials OL on the tag mixed in. Doesn’t take a detective to crack that case.

Ophelia: Oh my Watcher.

Hilary: Don’t be embarrassed, dear. I was young and in love once too. But now that it’s out in the open…

She turns to her brother.

Hilary: Alexander Amir, stealing a woman’s underwear? You were raised better than that!

Xander: I didn’t! I must have grabbed it by accident!

Hilary: I'll choose to believe that. Oh, Ophelia, we were going to go to the Spice Festival this Friday with Hector and the kids. Would you like to join us?

Ophelia: That sounds fun but I don't want to intrude on family time.

Hilary: Oh, nonsense. We'd love to have you.

Ophelia: Thank you, I'd love to go!

Xander: I know you met the kids already but I can't wait to reintroduce you as my girlfriend. Jace has been asking me since he was a toddler why I'm single. According to him grown-ups are all supposed to be married.

I think Hilary ships it.

Hilary has to go tell the chef to actually cook and not just stand outside on the sidewalk, so she leaves the lovebirds alone.

Xander: Well, that went better than I thought.

Ophelia: Yeah, we really lucked out.

Xander: Looks like the hard part's over.

Ophelia: Yep. So now that we don't have to stress… Haha, you got in trouble, Alexander Amir!

Xander laughs as she blows a raspberry at him.

Xander: I don't want to hear it, Ophelia Marie! You probably snuck that thong into my stuff!

Ophelia: When do you think I can meet your parents?

Xander: I called them this morning and told them because I didn't want to wait, but we can probably have dinner with them the day after they get home. They're going to love you, I just know it.

[omniblades-and-stars]

OC Deep Dive Tag

I was tagged by @writernopal, thank you dear!

I'll tag in return @thetrashbagswasteland, @gemsbokk, @stormikins, @outpost51, @mushroommanchanterelle, and @sparatus.

I'll do this for Lou and then maybe my brain will allow me to write again.

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

I don't think she really has any uncommon fears. I think a lot of people are afraid of being alone. It seems like something that wouldn't come up very often, but the fear and panic she gets when restrained in any form (beyond a hug) is well and away much worse than what you might expect if she is put in handcuffs or even if someone grabs her arms. It's definitely a trauma thing.

Do they have any pet peeves?

Oh she can't stand messy or disorganized work areas and homes. She keeps her thoughts to herself when she's at someone else's place, but she can get snippy and overwhelmed if her workbenches are in disarray or people don't clean up after themselves in her home.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Paperback harlequin romance novel, datapad with schematics for her omni-tools to ponder over as she falls asleep, wooden duck that her dad whittled for her when she was a kid.

What do they notice first in a person?

Eyes, what kind of tech are they wearing (can she nerd out with them), and she's definitely noticing if they have beefy, muscular arms. She's into that.

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

This one's difficult for me to answer. She gets hurt ... a lot. It fucking hurts when she does. But she's the type that will push through tremendous amounts of pain when necessary. So I guess high? But she's not going to lie and say something doesn't hurt. It's just that it hurting is less important than like meeting her goals or surviving a life or death situation.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Oh Lou is a fighter in general. She'd rather get her ass kicked and say she stood in the face of danger, injustice, or assholery and spat at it than run away. She's not entirely without self-preservation instinct, but she gets riled up and will step into extremely unfair fights when she does.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Her family isn't terribly large. She has one sibling (and she considers her brother-in-law just as good as a blood born brother), her mom who she has a terrible and complicated relationship with, and her dad who just passed away. She has a handful of aunts and uncles too. This is a tough question to answer because she WANTS her family to be a bigger part of her life, but her mom tries to play gatekeeper to the rest, and Lou is very avoidant at dealing with her mother.

What animal represents them best?

Oh this is a great question that I had not put a ton of thought into. My first instinct is raccoon, and here's why: raccoons are very adaptable and a little sneaky, and also they are clever, intelligent little animals. I think that Lou uses her own talents to tackle problems and her profession in unusual and creative ways. She can crack it out (it being surviving and learning to flourish) in all sorts of places and situations despite coming from smaller means in a middle of nowhere town. Also I think raccoons are cute and so is Lou.

What is a smell they dislike?

She really, really doesn't like the smell of seafood.

Have they broken any bones?

Oh for sure. When she was about 10 years, she fell off the monkey bars and crushed her wrist like soda can. She's not suffered any other big fractures, but has broken a toe or two as well.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Most people would find her unassuming, maybe attractive or cute if they're into human women. If they talk to her, they would think she's very personable and talkative.

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

Oh, she tends towards night-owling, but her sleep schedule is all over the place (frequent travel to other star systems, stations and planets will do that to you.) Her sleep habits are certainly intensely unhealthy.

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Seafood again, especially salmon. She just doesn't like it. She really loves the flavor of a good fruit tea.

Do they have any hobbies?

She likes rebuilding old guns, she reads romance novels in her free time, and she does a little bit of sewing.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

Oh she's into it! She loves a party, she loves a surprise. And she would be thrilled that her friends thought to do that for her.

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Lou is pretty "meh" about jewelry. She'll wear it if she's dressing up, but by and large, she just doesn't bother. She prefers cute outfits and neat tech.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Her handwriting is very neat. It's very compact and all caps.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Hmmm, grief and anxiety.

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Whatever they make the light armor flexible suits out. She's fascinated by the engineering that went into that. And enjoys having a suit made out of it. For actual just feeling, she's a big fan of a light linen.

What kind of accent do they have?

She's got that good-good southern American accent. Sometimes she plays it up if she thinks she can use it to her advantage, but it's always there.

[idolsgf]

✨9 Ship Songs✨

tagged by @shivunin, thank you so much!! I love sharing songs :3

Rules: List nine songs for one of your ships

I'm going to copy you and do three songs per ship even if I have an 8hr solavellan playlist

tagging: @gvnseylike @sinquisition @ndostairlyrium @fenharel-apologist94 @transprincecaspian @ell-vellan @enasallavellan @demandthedoodles and anyone else who would like to share some songs <3

Ashari/Alistair

Tiptoeing by Hope Tala

How you gonna make me do this dance again? We're getting closer but we're trying to be friends If we start it might never end, so we keep tiptoeing When we met I wasn't interested I did half a glance, didn't want to chance it Now I lie awake and I think about you Because there's a moral to this story but I don't know it Always listen to myself but not this time I guess Keep on running from it, when I want it, I do

Back to You by Flower Face

Well, it's always back to you again Always back to you, my friend, you keep me on the run I never learned to lose a fight I never learned to grow upright Well, this is who we are How will I release you now? How can I forgive myself when I'm still in love with you? And it's always back to you again Always back to you, my friend You keep me on the run

The Last Romance by Raleigh Ritchie

Your face looks so sweet, even in the wars You took the rap for me, but I fell on my own sword And now the sordid details, are all over page 4 Honey, we made the news and that's all we did this for We drove for centuries without a sound or fuss State penitentiaries weren't made for souls like us There will be blood, but you will be loved The world will know, but it's only us

Faye/Anders

Let's Talk About Feelings by Joywave

I, I am learning to live again I, I'm done with the fast-paced, flower crowned women I, I am falling in love with you I, I hope that it's good for you I, I've been, I've been in every state But content is foreign soil (content is foreign soil) It's sand I'd love to cultivate

The Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx

And I digress 'Cause I must make you the perfect evening I try my best To put the priest inside a jam jar And there's a millipede Angry on your carpet Oh, and I must admit He's staring with a vengeance Oh, and I digress 'Cause I must make you the perfect morning And I try my best To prove that nothing's out to get you To prove that nothing's out to get you

Windswept by Crywolf

I'll be what you need I'll keep you inside my fortress Hand you the keys Leave you to roam these walls But you tore down the keep I returned to find ruins You left all my love in the rubble with these walls

Mori'na/Solas

Fallorun by Andrew Bird

You know we could have been together But you couldn't stand the weather here You know I was your rain and thunder Upon your hills and valleys, dear You think you're making choices But there's nothing really here Just tone-deaf angry voices That are breathing in your ear

Unknown/Nth by Hozier

Do you know I could break beneath the weight? Of the goodness, love, I still carry for you That I'd walk so far just to take The injury of finally knowin' you It ain't the being alone (Sha-la-la) It ain't the empty home, baby (Sha-la-la) You know I'm good on my own (Sha-la-la) Sha-la-la, baby, you know, it's more the being unknown And there are some people, love, who are better unknown

Olive Branch by Sophie Holohan

Cuz I’m a giver, I’m a grower, I’m a lover, till it hurts And I’d hate to not know ya, but I’m not sure if it’s worse To give you every part of me, watch you go time and time again Or wait until my dying days and still not call you my friend Peace, is there peace? In picking up the pieces of the past? Is there relief? Is there sorrow? Or can I finally sleep? When you branch the past and present Is there relief? Relief

[hitobanju]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE(S) .

Ikki

#1 -Juice WRLD & Marshmello - Come & Go

I try to be everything that I can / But sometimes, I come out as bein' nothin’ / I try to be everything that I can / But sometimes, I come out as bein' nothin' / I pray to God that he make me a better man (Uh)/ Maybe one day, I’m going stand for somethin' / I'm thanking' God that he made you part of the plan / I guess I ain't go through all that Hell for nothin' / I'm always fuckin' up and wrecking’ shit / It seems like I perfected it / I offer you my love / I hope you take it like some medicine / Tell me ain’t nobody better than me / I think that there's better than me / Hope you see the better in me / Always end up bettering’ me.

#2- Juice WRLD - Lucid Dreams

I'll do it over again / I didn't want it to end / I watched it blow in the wind / I should've listened to my friends / Leave this shit in the past / But I want it to last.

#3- Juice WRLD- Wishing Well

Waiting for the exhale / I toss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well / I can't breathe, I'm waiting for the exhale / Toss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well / Still no luck, but oh, well / I still try even though I know I'm going to fail / Stress on my shoulders like an anvil.

#4- Cold Play- Sky Full of Stars

'Cause you're a sky, / 'cause you're a sky full of stars / I'm gonna give you my heart / 'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars / 'Cause you light up the path I don't care, go on and tear me apart / I don't care if you do, ooh-ooh, ooh / 'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars I think I saw you.

#5 - Cold Play- Viva la Vida

I used to rule the world / Seas would rise when I gave the word / Now in the morning, I sleep alone / Sweep the streets I used to own / I used to roll the dice / Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes / Listen as the crowd would sing / Now the old king is dead, long live the king / One minute, I held the key / Next the walls were closed on me / And I discovered that my castles stand / Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand.

#6- Oh No- Marina and the Diamonds

One track mind, one track heart / If I fail, I'll fall apart / Maybe it is all a test / 'Cause, I feel like I'm the worst / So I always act like I'm the best / If you are not very careful / Your possessions will possess you / TV taught me how to feel / Now real life has no appeal.

Tagged by: @dangaer Tagging: All female muses or anyone else who wants to do this. Say that I tagged you.

[rickie-the-storyteller]

hi!! i come with a question for the wip title tag!! i'm curious about the "life without b" chapter from "steph's crew" - could you say something more about it?

Sure!

"Life without B" is the second chapter of Steph's Crew that I wrote, and I started writing this story about a year ago lol. So it's pretty old, and it could use some editing. But I'm rather fond of it for a couple of reasons...

When I first wrote Steph's Crew, I intended it to only focus on Stephanie's perspective (as she's the main character). It was supposed to be her journal. But I changed my mind after a while because it was hard to really flesh out the other characters in her friend group and go into their personal lives in depth if I only focused on Stephanie's perspective. So now, each chapter is in a different character's POV. And what's really fun about all the chapter titles is that you can kind of guess which character the chapter is going to focus on based on the title... like based on their individual senses of humour, or the vibes they give off, or a thing that they commonly say. This chapter that you chose for example is an Elise chapter - and that is shown by the way it mentions a character named "B" ("B" is Bret lol. That's Elise's occasional nickname for him!) and it directly mirrors a previous Elise chapter title (Life With B).

I've posted this old series of dialogue plans that I like to write for my characters sometimes (I'm still going with it, since I haven't posted all of them yet... pretty sure I have about 10 left of these). And the one for this chapter is one of the earliest ones I've posted. It was when I was doing this series that I realised that all of my characters are actually super interesting and they all deserve more attention and focus than what they currently get. So this chapter was kind of a turning point for this story - it was the moment that I started to write chapters from the perspectives of the other members of the crew. Starting with Elise!

I'll leave a link to the dialogue plan so you can see it for yourself, but I'll also give a brief summary of what happens in the chapter - basically, Bret is kind of a troubled child lol. He's always getting in trouble at school, he's struggling with a lot of things, and at this point, his friends are beginning to notice that, and they want to do something about it. I mean, it's hard NOT to notice that something's going on with him - he's been suspended, and he hasn't been going to school lol. But yeah. They try to come up with a plan to do something to show their friend that they care about him, and that he's not alone. And it's a pretty terrible plan (leads to arguments/disagreements within the group)... but they do it. It leads to them all getting detention. Yeah.

I mainly focused on Elise's POV for this chapter because she's the closest to Bret (she's been a friend of his since childhood, and she also has a crush on him... which is a whole other thing lol. Them two have a romantic subplot in the story), and also she's kind of the odd one out in the sense that she is the only one with common sense haha. Like, she disagrees with Stephanie's terrible plan even though everyone else in the group is willing to go along with it. It showcases Elise's main personality of being introverted and soft-spoken, but not being a pushover... like, she's willing to stand up for her beliefs and push back against ideas she doesn't agree with, even if she stands alone. With El, I really wanted to present the idea that just because a person is an introvert, it doesn't necessarily mean that they are shy or "weak" lol... since I feel like some people may sometimes see the two things as synonymous.

Thank you so much for the ask, @rbbess110! This was so much fun <3

Here's the link to the dialogue plan for this chapter (hope you enjoy it!):

[tombstuck-writes]

Knucklehead: Part 1, Chapter 2

Genre: Midwest Contemporary Young Adult Romance.

Word count: 27,615. Chapter 2/27.

Summary: “There was only one queer kid in town. That’s what he thought anyway, because it was him. If only his online almost-boyfriend lived nearby, things might be a little more tolerable.”

Content warnings: Graphic child abuse (it's not until part 2, and part 1 can be read stand-alone.)

Author's note:

Again, a big thank you to anyone who reads this story. I'll be posting one chapter every Saturday until it's done. Chapters will be under the #tombstuck-knucklehead tag, and I will also link them on the "Read Knucklehead" page on the header of my tumblr site.

You can read chapter 1 here.

Brandon sat at a small table in the dingy break room at work. He was eating an Italian style pinwheel wrap, and thinking about his therapy session the day before.

His mom had been concerned about him since he had graduated– even before then, if he was honest– and set him up an appointment with a therapist. Brandon had never seen a therapist before, and he was nervous. The first appointment was boring. He just had to tell the therapist his history and some detail about the issues he was having. The therapist noted it all down.

The day before had been his second appointment with the therapist.

He walked into the office. It was sparsely decorated, with a nameplate on the desk, and a single painting on the wall, of a tree. The walls were painted beige. He sat down on the small couch across from the lady’s desk, and the leather of the couch creaked underneath him. 

“So,” the therapist– Sarah, according to her nameplate. Brandon would have to remember that– began with a click of her pen. “Last time we spoke about your history, and made a goal for your treatment. How have things been going for you since we spoke last week?”

“The same,” Brandon said, bringing his hand up to his mouth to bite his nails.

“Mm, okay. Is there anything you’d like to talk about today, or would you like me to lead the session?” she asked.

“You can lead, I guess.” Brandon had no idea how to handle the awkwardness in the room.

“How often do you spend time with friends?” she asked.

This gave him pause. “Used to be every day. Now… I don’t even have friends.”

“What happened to those relationships?” Sarah asked.

“I ruined them by disappearing.”

“Do you think your, former, friends would react well to being asked to hang out right now?”

“Probably not. I haven’t spoken to them in weeks. Except– well.” Brandon paused again. Did he want to keep this new bond with Norm to himself?

“Except…?” Sarah waited.

“I actually hung out with someone yesterday. It was… fine, I guess.”

“That’s a great start, Brandon. Who was it you hung out with?”

“... My girlfriend, Natalie,” Brandon lied. It was out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

“Oh, my. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. How long have you been together?”

“Um, a year and a half, about. We met in school.”

“And what did you do together yesterday?” Sarah asked.

“We went on a picnic date at the park. Ate sandwiches together and did some cloudgazing.”

“That sounds lovely. Did she have a good time?”

“I hope so,” Brandon said. This was insane, lying to the therapist. He needed to get a grip.

She ended the session a while later by giving Brandon some homework. He was supposed to spend time with either a friend, or his girlfriend this week. Something to get him out of the house and around other people that’s not work.

Speaking of work, his break was almost over. He got a text all of a sudden.

It was from Norm. Hey Bran. When’s your next day off?

Brandon was surprised. It seemed like Norm wanted to hang out pretty regularly now. Tomorrow, he simply answered.

Wanna go to the old mining museum with me? Norm texted back a moment later. Brandon chuckled lightly and took another bite of his lunch before answering.

Your hangout ideas are unconventional, he answered.

Does that mean no? :( 

Brandon sighed. He had been to the mining museum in middle school, and it had felt cramped and dark even then. He supposed it made sense, they were trying to make it feel like a mine shaft, but still. Shoved into a dark cramped space, probably just him and Norm? The mining museum wasn’t exactly a bouncing hangout for the kids these days, so it would be just the two of them. Alone. Touching.

Of course I’ll go. I meant it as a compliment, Brandon answered begrudgingly. He was in way over his head with this whole Norm thing.

The next day, the two of them were stood outside the old mining museum at ten o’clock in the morning. Brandon had been able to smell the alcohol on Norm in the car. He hoped Norm didn’t do anything dumb and get them kicked out. They walked in and a very old man in a cap that said “VETERAN” in all caps was sitting behind a desk.

“Welcome to the Cohocton Mining Museum.” The old man said.

“Thank you,” Brandon said, getting out his wallet. “Uh, what does it cost to go in?”

“Free to walk through, but we appreciate donations.” The old man said. “And we got souvenirs for sale if you’re interested.”

“Okay,” Brandon already had his wallet out so he pulled out a few ones to drop in the donation box, because he felt it would be rude not to.

“I thank you kindly,” the old man said. Brandon nodded at him in reply.

They went into the museum, and just as Brandon remembered, it was a bit cramped. Maybe not quite as bad as he had imagined when he was a kid— even though he’s bigger now— but still close quarters. 

Norm had smelled like alcohol before, but he didn’t seem to be blackout drunk, just tipsy. He was a giggly drunk, and had Brandon laughing by reenacting fictional mining scenarios. He was also flitting from display to display, pulling Brandon along by the hand.

He led Brandon to a display of phosphorescent minerals. “Bran, look!” He said, but he didn’t let go of Brandon’s hand after dragging him over there. Brandon technically saw the brightly glowing minerals, and they were cool, but every ounce of Brandon’s attention was drawn to Norm holding Brandon’s hand. He blushed and hoped Norm couldn’t see it.

“They’re,” Brandon began, trying to pull himself back into the conversation about the minerals. He looked over at Norm the same time Norm looked at him. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

Norm’s eyes got a bit wider as he stared at Brandon.

“The minerals, I mean!” Brandon said, panicking. Norm let go of his hand and rubbed the back of his own neck.

“Yeah, they totally are,” Norm said. He gulped. Brandon could see red creeping up Norm’s neck in the dim light. He was blushing too.

After they got through the museum, they were on the drive back to Norm’s house. Trees whipped by the car in a blur.

“So, that was cool,” Norm said, looking over at Brandon. Brandon nodded. After a moment of silence, he asked, “You liked it?” His question seemed to have a deeper meaning.

“Yeah, I did,” Brandon said, answering the implied question and the literal one. “The glow in the dark minerals were especially neat.” What am I doing?, he thought.

Norm bit his lip and looked out the side window, and Brandon wondered if he had gone too far, been too forward. He had a girlfriend, for Christ sakes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Nah, man. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I had fun,” Norm said, smiling lightly over at Brandon.

What does that mean? Does that mean he felt whatever was between us in the museum? I mean, how could he not, Brandon’s thoughts rambled on as he drove.

When they got back to Norm’s house, he asked, “Do you wanna come in and see my room?”

Brandon wondered if this was a dangerous thing to do. “Sure, yeah,” he said anyway.

As they walked through the living room, Norm’s mom and some other guy were sitting on the couch smoking pot. The guy nodded at Brandon and he nodded back, following Norm back to his room.

He distinctly thought he heard, “The fag’s brought his boyfriend over,” and then the two of them snickered. But maybe he misheard.

Norm’s room was plain and nearly unfurnished. He had a twin sized mattress on the floor, a plastic dresser, and a beat up TV with a Nintendo 64 plugged into it. There was also a closet, but Brandon couldn’t see what was in there. The only things on the wall were some black and white photocopied pictures from game guide magazines. 

“Cozy,” Brandon said, and Norm snorted.

“Yeah that’s one word for it,” Norm said. “Hey! Wanna play Mortal Kombat with me?”

“Oh, sure,” Brandon answered. He wasn’t sure where to sit.

Norm sat down on one end of the bed, and pulled the system closer so the controllers would reach the bed. Brandon sat next to him.

They played videogames together much longer than Brandon had originally intended to stay, and it was the most fun Brandon had had in a long time, even though he wasn’t the best at it.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will come out Saturday 7/13/24.