#i'll post the other chs soon!

[tweetsongs]

Transmigrating into the Reborn Male Lead’s Ex-Boyfriend Chapter 153

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so. funny story. i started reading this fun little webnovel, only to find out halfway through that the translation hadn't been updated in about a year, and there were only three untranslated chapters left.

me, a consumate completionist: oh, i think i could handle that!

please keep in mind that this is a translation by someone who hasn't read chinese since they were *checks notes* seven years old, and is completely unedited. the goal of this was mostly to have something more readable than the mtl. when the CG translation group updates i'll link to them instead since i'm sure i missed a ton of nuance/got a bunch of stuff wrong.

you can find chapters 1-152 here! be sure to send love to the og translators

anyways for anyone else foaming to know what happened to sxh and xym and their ridiculous love story here's chapter 153.

-

Except for his greeting at the very beginning, Xue Mian did not speak to Song Xuanhe again.

He constantly stayed quietly by Master McPhail’s side, occasionally laughing gently and speaking very little, like he had already left the entertainment circle. His beauty and gentle manner led many people to gaze over at him, lingering for a few moments.

It was obvious that Master McPhail was also fond of him, often pausing during his conversations to turn to Xue Mian to explain bits of complicated terminology without concealing the fond look in his eyes. Because of this, everyone present could see that Master McPhail liked his companion very much.

Master McPhail had always been known as a master jewelry craftsman with an independent personality, who rarely invested in or cooperated with others professionally. The fact that he came with the Xue family this time already surprised many people, and their surprise only grew as they saw how happy he looked with the Xue family heir. 

These masters at the apex of the design industry weren’t the types to be concerned about any treasured heirs from some bigshot family, but if the person in question was a child that their friend looked fondly upon- well, that was a different matter.

In a matter of moments, the majority of the banquet guests were looking towards Xue Mian’s gentle expression.

Song Xuanhe observed all of this. Rather than grabbing a seat at a banquet table to talk with anyone, he sat by a window silently, sipping his tea as he thought.

This banquet was something that he dreamed of, to the point that at the beginning, he already had several designs for outfits and had talked to several of his peers and Feng Tong about his thoughts and creative visions for his debut. Normally, Song Xuanhe would be ecstatic to be able to talk shop with these like-minded people.

However, for a few days now, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding.

He didn’t know why, but he constantly felt a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach, and found it difficult to calm himself down.

He couldn’t shake off the memory of the vague words that Xiao Yuanmu had said at lunch that day, and the strange expression on his face after he talked with Xiao Lin. He could tell that these things were connected, but no matter how he tried to connect the dots in his mind, he couldn’t string together the clues into a single answer.

“Mr. Song.”

A voice spoke by his ear. Song Xuanhe lifted his eyes to an unfamiliar face.

The person approaching laughed, and lifted a finger to point at a table in the middle of the room. They spoke in a soft voice: “I heard that you snatched up Master McPhail’s cufflinks, and now he wants to look for you.”

Song Xuanhe followed his pointed finger and, sure enough, he saw the smiling Master McPhail. Not only that, beside him were other familiar faces: not only Xue Mian, but also Feng Tong, Bai Mo, and Jiang Deyi.

“Did you bring the cufflinks?” The person swept their gaze over Song Xuanhe’s sleeve. When he didn’t see anything, he continued: “My friend, you were able to attend Master McPhail’s banquet because of those cufflinks. If you are not wearing those cufflinks, it might seem like you’re not respecting the host.”

Song Xuanhe acknowledged the good advice, giving his thanks with a composed expression. He then said: “The cufflinks are currently with the person that are best suited for them. I believe that Master McPhail understands that.”

The person nodded. “Once Master McPhail speaks to you, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Song Xuanhe put down the tea in his hand and began to walk towards where Master McPhail was. The closer he got, the more he was able to see the mood of the cluster of people there. The corner of his smile deepened as he came to stop beside Master McPhail.

“Hello, Mr. Song,” Master McPhail gestured for him to sit, then said laughingly: “I heard that it was you who bought my cufflinks. I won’t lie- out of everything I’ve made in my life, those cufflinks are the things I’m most proud of. When I first agreed to participate in the option, I was very conflicted. But now, looking at you, I think that they’ve found a pretty good owner.”

The corners of Song Xuanhe’s eyes turned up, his gaze clear and limpid. Looking into his eyes, his sincere admiration and respect was obvious. “Out of all the things I’ve bought for my collections, these cufflinks are my favorite.”

Master McPhail’s face grew happier at the words, and he said: “Then, child, would you allow me to meet those cufflinks one last time for a goodbye?”

Song Xuanhe ran the corner of his gaze across Feng Tong’s worried face, as well as the frowns that Xue Mian, Jiang Deyi, and Bai Mo couldn’t quite hide from their eyes. He then smiled and said, shaking his head: “I’m afraid not, Master McPhail. I’m not currently wearing those cufflinks.”

“How strange that something Mr. Song loves and treasures so much wouldn’t be worn to the banquet hosted by our host,” Bai Mo said, smiling. “I imagine that there was some sort of misunderstanding that made you forget about them, or that they aren’t suited to the outfit you coordinated for today. There must be many reasons for something like this happening.”

Master McPhail’s smile didn’t change, as if he hadn’t heard what Bai Mo said. Instead, he continued to smile at Song Xuanhe and asked: “May I know the reason, child?”

Song Xuanhe nodded, his eyes crinkling upwards slightly. His eyes were shining as if they were filled with diamonds, sparkling with fragments of light. He said: “Right now, those cufflinks are on the person I love most in the world. He likes them very much.”

Master McPhail fell silent for a few moments, before raising his hand to pat Song Xuanhe’s arm. “I hope that the person wearing those cufflinks will be able to receive the blessing that I gave them when I was making them.”

“What kind of blessing?” Song Xuanhe asked.

“A love that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.” Master McPhail smiled again, eyes fond. “I’ll give this blessing to you as well.”

Song Xuanhe wasn’t sure why, but he felt a tingling behind his nose. He dipped his head and said: “Thank you for your blessings.”

Master McPhail patted his arm again, and moved his eyes to the manuscripts he was holding. “I noticed your design manuscripts earlier. If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind if I took a look?”

Song Xuanhe’s distracted gaze caught Feng Tong’s excited and nervous look, as if Feng Tong were afraid that Song Xuanhe would reject his offer. He urged him with his eyes to quickly accept.

“Of course you can.” Feng Tong was overreacting. There was no way that Song Xuanhe could reject the chance for Master McPhail to critique him.

Master McPhail took the manuscripts and looked over them, eyes bright and expression happy. As he began to speak, he paused and looked over to the rest of the people with him, saying: “If these gentlemen don’t mind, I’d like to speak with Mr. Song alone.”

Xue Mian laughed a little. “As it turns out, I was just thinking of going to grab a drink. Does anyone want to come with me?”

Feng Tong responded immediately that he would go. Bai Mo and Jiang Deyi looked at each other, then glanced at Song Xuanhe coldly before leaving as well.

Actually, this banquet was meant to be an open place to critique, with many design manuscripts piled on tables as people around them discussed them. There was no need to send anyone away.

That’s why, when everyone began to walk away, Song Xuanhe looked warily at Master McPhail. He smiled back without explaining, and instead began to ask him about his inspirations.

“I saw a video of your first show and your designs are inventive and clever, especially your use of color. However, these designs seem to be a bit different from the ones I saw before. Can you tell me about that?”

Song Xuanhe pulled back his train of thought, and began to discuss with Master McPhail. The discussion stretched into the night, the two never seeming to run out of energy. As they spoke, Master McPhail even pulled over some old friends to introduce them to him. One of them was a designer for a popular international luxury brand, and they were very interested in Song Xuanhe’s designs, exchanging contact information with him.

Until the end of the party, Song Xuanhe took full advantage of his time.

As dinnertime drew closer, people began to leave one by one. Master McPhail kept a few of his old friends around to have dinner with him. Because of their lively discussion, Song Xuanhe was also invited to stay, but he chose to tactfully refuse the invitation.

Xue Mian, hearing this, looked at him in surprise. Before, he had seen Song Xuanhe’s involvement in the design industry as a frivolous gamble. After this afternoon, he had to change his mind. He saw now that Song Xuanhe really did have talent in design, to the point where Master McPhail acknowledged his skills. Song Xuanhe himself seemed to genuinely treasure this opportunity as well, so when Master McPhail invited him, Xue Mian thought that he would definitely join them. 

Even if Xiao Yuanmu returned today, Xue Mian had thought that there would be plenty of things that Song Xuanhe prioritized over him.

Once again, he was proven wrong.

Song Xuanhe explained: “It’s because of the person I bought the cufflinks for. We haven’t seen each other in thirty-two hours, so I can’t help but want to meet him now.”

At his answer, Master McPhail smiled at him, and the people around him looked at him affectionately as well. The eagerness of young love always made other people feel fond.

Master McPhail answered: “Then I wish you a wonderful evening.”

Song Xuanhe began to leave, but Xue Mian called out to him as he was walking away. He was surprised, but stopped walking.

Xue Mian caught up to him and gestured to another table to the side: “Why don’t we have a chat?”

“I don’t think that we’re close enough for that involved of a chat,” Song Xuanhe rejected. “But I will thank you for today.”

The invitation that Master McPhail extended towards Song Xuanhe was because of Xue Mian. Song Xuanhe knew that his sense of design was good, and his conversation that afternoon was very genial, but he wasn’t conceited enough to believe that one afternoon of talking was enough to receive special attention from someone like Master McPhail, who must’ve seen countless clever, talented newcomers before him.

Besides, Master McPhail made no mention of him staying for dinner during their discussion, only extending the invitation after Xue Mian whispered something to him.

“Don’t thank me,” Xue Mian said. “Master McPhail already liked you. I only gave him a little suggestion. Besides, I have my own reasons as well.”

Song Xuanhe looked at him, neither asking nor speaking.

The corner of Xue Mian’s lip flattened, and he looked away. “You have deeper feelings for Xiao Yuanmu than I had imagined, but have you ever thought about how long the two of you can go on for?”

“That’s our business,” Song Xuanhe said indifferently.

“Of course,” Xue Mian laughed, a hint of mocking in his tone. “This was never my business. Don’t worry, I’ve already thought it through to my decision.”

“Is your decision that you can’t bother us?” Song Xuanhe looked at the time, then turned and said: “If there’s nothing else, then I’ll be going first.”

Xue Mian called to his back: “Do you know why Xiao Yuanmu left the country?”

Song Xuanhe’s steps paused. “I’ll find out tonight.”

Xue Mian laughed sharply, his eyes bitter and regretful. “I don’t think you will.”

“Why?”

Song Xuanhe turned around suddenly, watching his shadow as he left.

-

After he returned, the bad feeling Song Xuanhe was having grew heavier on his chest. He habitually turned to look at the clock, eyes tracking the ticking of the hands. The corners of his lips kept flattening, tense.

The time slowly slipped from five to seven, the sky turning from blue to grey. The neon lamps in the city slowly began to brighten, casting the darkening streets back into light.

[Xiao Yuanmu is back.]

The sound of the system in his mind was abrupt, making Song Xuanhe startle out of his blank look. He looked at the clock- it was seven twenty-five.

At the same time as the system, Xiao Huang suddenly raised his head, ears pricking up as he looked towards the door. A second later, his tail began to wag, and he ran towards the door enthusiastically.

The sound of the elevator rang out, and the sound of the elevator door opening preceded the sound of leather against the floor, ringing out in tandem with the sound of Xiao Huang’s paws against the floor.

Song Xuanhe looked up, his eyes meeting Xiao Yuanmu’s across from him.

“I’m home.” Xiao Yuanmu looked down slightly, face slightly pale and laugh soft and slightly warm.

Song Xuanhe stood up and walked over, first sweeping his eyes over his figure, quietly releasing a breath, the heartbeat that was picking up in pace finally slowing again. Smiling, he said: “Have you eaten dinner?”

Xiao Yuanmu looked back. “I bought groceries.”

Yang Jie came in as well, giving Song Xuanhe a greeting before turning to go into the kitchen. He put down the groceries before silently looking at Xian Yuanmu.

“Go.” Xiao Yuanmu glanced at him, speaking mildly.

Yang Jie gaped at him, mouth moving as if he wanted to say something. Ultimately, he didn’t speak, bending to give Xiao Huang a pat before leaving.

There was something streaking through Song Xuanhe’s heart. His lips hooked up as he said: “Did Yang Jie do something wrong? Why is he scuttering in and out without even glancing at me?”

“I’m thinking of having him transfer back to China,” Xiao Yuanmu took off his cufflinks, carefully putting them away. “He doesn’t want to.”

“Why?” Song Xuanhe followed him into the kitchen, Xiao Huang following behind. “His family should still be in China.”

“En,” Xiao Yuanmu paused while rolling up his sleeves, eyes moving to the bags of groceries where Song Xuanhe stood. His eyes were dark as they looked, tugging his sleeves downwards as he spoke calmly. “His mom is living alone in China.”

“But Yang Jie left, who’s taking over for him?” Song Xuanhe asked.

“Right now, it’s temporarily Qiao,” Xiao Yuanmu replied.

The hand that Song Xuanhe was using to put the groceries in the fridge froze for a moment, then he closed the fridge door and turned to meet Xiao Yuanmu’s eyes. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“What kind of thing?”

“When you went back to China this time, was it for the Xiao family?” Song Xuanhe grabbed Xiao Yuanmu’s hand, using it to pull him away from the kitchen towards the study. “Let’s talk for a bit.”

Xiao Yuanmu allowed himself to be pulled miserably, following obediently behind with a downcast gaze. After they entered the study, Song Xuanhe closed the door behind them, letting go of his hand.

“You said before that you wouldn’t lie to me,” Song Xuanhe looked at Xiao Yuanmu. “I believe you.”

The hand that Xiao Yuanmu let fall back to his side clenched and unclenched, He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a sturdy arm.

Song Xuanhe’s eyes fell on that arm, then moved away. “Xiao Yuanmu. Why exactly did you go back to China this time?”

“Some private business.”

“About what?” Song Xuanhe asked. “If it’s private, why didn't you let me know that beforehand?”

Xiao Yuanmu moved forward to hold Song Xuanhe, his chin resting on his shoulder. “I’m very tired.”

Song Xuanhe paused, the words bubbling up his throat swallowed back again as he lifted his hands to curl around Xiao Yuanmu’s waist.

“Once it’s the right time, I’ll tell you everything.” Xiao Yuanmu pressed his face deeper into Song Xuanhe’s shoulder, voice muffled. “Can you...not ask me anything right now?”

After ten or so seconds of silence, Song Xuanhe replied: “Okay.”

Xiao Yuanmu returned to the kitchen to make dinner, hands moving like usual. For once, Song Xuanhe had little appetite.

“How was Master McPhail’s banquet?” Xiao Yuanmu asked, putting down his chopsticks to ask.

“Not bad,” Song Xuanhe got up and went to the living room, bringing back his design manuscripts for Xiao Yuanmu to look at. “These are the drafts that I was busy making for the past few days. The details haven’t been finalized yet, but the basic idea and the measurements should be fine. Master McPhail really liked this outfit.”

Xiao Yuanmu looked at the designs. “When can these be made?”

“Maybe for the fall or winter lines?” Song Xuanhe said, unsure. “Or even later. I’ve already made my fall and winter lines, and these don’t quite match the same mood. It might be a bit hard to integrate these in the lines. By the time it goes into production, it might be quite a bit after.”

“Were these designed for me?” Xiao Yuanmu looked at Song Xuanhe.

Song Yuanhe looked down. “Everything I’ve designed has been for you.”

Xiao Yuanmu looked at him with an adoration that couldn’t be hidden, his lips tilting upwards helplessly. “I want this outfit. There’s nothing like it. Make it for me. Can you make it before next week?”

Song Xuanhe frowned. “It’ll be a bit too warm to wear this outfit in this kind of weather.”

“It’ll get cooler soon.” Xiao Yuanmu looked at Song Xuanhe.

Song Xuanhe gave in. “You’re lucky that I’m not as busy now. I don’t have any materials or machines to make it, though.”

“I can get someone to send things over.”

Xiao Yuanmu kept his word. After getting Song Xuanhe to let him know everything that he would need, he got everything sent over to their apartment within a day’s time.

Not only that, but even with the apartment having empty rooms, Xiao Yuanmu still insisted on clearing out space in the study for Song Xuanhe to work in instead. The study was large enough that after a bit of cleaning, it didn’t feel crowded with the two of them working together at all.

The side of the room facing the shining french windows was originally where Xiao Yuanmu worked, but now it had become Song Xuanhe’s workspace. Xiao Yuanmu instead moved all his work over to one side, so that the two of them could feel comfortable working in tandem.

After the renovation, Xiao Yuanmu didn’t go back to his office. He was still as busy as ever, spending upwards of fifteen hours every day in the study. The only difference now was that whenever he looked up, he could see Song Xuanhe on the other side of the room, drawing and sewing with single-minded focus.

Three days passed in a flash, and Song Xuanhe found himself acclimating to the new normal, sharing a space with Xiao Yuanmu, each working on their own in the same room as the day passes.

One day, however, a sudden stream of people began to flow in and out of the apartment, one after another. Because they had never met before, Song Xuanhe politely greeted them, and Xiao Yuanmu made introductions, occasionally interrupting Song Xuanhe’s work.

After meeting Xiao Yuanmu’s financial advisor, lawyer, and doctor, Song Xuanhe couldn’t resist opening his mouth: “Why are all these people swarming in at once? Did they all agree to descend at the same time?”

“I am taking over the Xiao family,” Xiao Yuanmu’s lip lifted slightly, and he ran his hand over Song Xuanhe’s hair as if to pacify him. “I still had people from the Xiao family who want to leave and talk to me. I haven’t been going into the office, so of course they’ll have to come here.”

“Even your-”

Song Xuanhe was interrupted as Yang Jie knocked on the door. “Xiao-ge, Song-shao, Mr. Zhang is here.”

Ever since Xiao Yuanmu began to work from home, Yang Jie also worked in the apartment with him. Usually he worked from either the living room or another room, but today he acted more like a butler, escorting guests in and out of the house.

“Let him in,” Xiao Yuanmu said, smiling at Song Xuanhe as he spoke.

Zhang Siwei walked in, giving a smile and greeting to Song Xuanhe before saying: “I heard it’s been busy around here.”

“Just cleaning house,” Xiao Yuanmu said indifferently.

“Makes sense,” Zhang Siwei went over to the sofa and sat down, eyes catching on Song Xuanhe’s work area with interest. “Song-shao, are those your new designs? They look pretty good. As a close acquaintance, may I order a set in advance?”

“No.” Xiao Yuanmu rejected him flatly. “These designs were made for me. There’s only one set in the world, and only I can wear them.”

Zhang Siwei raised an eyebrow, noticing the pride behind Xiao Yuanmu’s fathomless eyes. He smiled and said: “I see, something like that can only be given to you. Let’s talk business, then.”

Xiao Yuanmu nodded, walking to sit across from him. The two pulled out their laptops and began to speak quietly. Song Xuanhe turned his gaze back to his work, focusing.

Like this, the days passed. The system inside of Song Xuanhe’s mind counted down. In this period of time, there really were quite a few people that came to visit their apartment. This lasted for three days, before their apartment returned to its usual quiet.

Without Yang Jie knocking on their door periodically, without the sound of soft conversation across the room, Song Xuanhe was surprised to actually feel disquieted for a moment. However, after a bit of time, he fell back into the rhythm of his work.

The outfit that he’s been working on for a week had finally come together. It still needed some final detailing, but after that it would be ready to wear.

Song Xuanhe looked up at Xiao Yuanmu, who was signing a document. Feeling his gaze, Xiao Yuanmu looked up as well, smiling softly at him before looking back and flipping to another document.

“You’ve had to sign a lot of these lately, huh,” Song Xuanhe put down the button in his hand. “Has Louis been slacking off and sending all of his stuff to you?”

“Louis is signing even more documents than I am,” Xiao Yuanhe paused in the middle of writing something before starting again, lightly flipping a page. “It’s been busy lately.”

Song Xuanhe nodded. He knew that it was busy lately. Compared to before he went on the business trip, he was even busier working at home. Xiao Yuanmu didn’t have much time to relax, either. Nowadays, he was barely sleeping five hours a day before going back to work.

Hopefully it’ll slow down soon. Song Xuanhe looked away again, thinking to himself.

Engrossed in his work, it was easy to forget the time. By the time he found himself cutting his final thread, the morning had already passed. He looked at the completed outfit, nodding to himself with satisfaction. He  turned towards Xiao Yuanmu: “I’m done with the outfit, do you want to try it on to see how it fits?”

There was no answering voice behind him. Song Xuanhe thought at first that Xiao Yuanmu was too engrossed in his work to answer, and turned to look at him. 

Xiao Yuanmu was half-sprawled on the table, looking collapsed with exhaustion.

Song Xuanhe put down the clothes in his hands and walked over to the sofa, grabbing a blanket to lay over Xiao Yuanmu, eyes soft and sad.

Xiao Yuanmu really had been worked to the bone lately. Not only was the already enormous Xiao family expanding their business, but there was also the whole issue with Lady Xiao and Xiao Baicong. It must’ve been a lot of pressure on him.

Song Xuanhe brushed away the longer strands of hair that fell over his face, lightly touching his forehead. It was a little warmer than usual. There was a light wrinkle between his eyebrows. He prepared to try waking him again when he noticed the open document out of the corner of his eye.

Contract of Property Transfer - First Party: Xiao Yuanmu

He pulled the document from his hand. Before he could take a look, the system sounded in his mind: [Xiao Yuanmu is not doing well right now! He’s not asleep, he’s unconscious- you should send him to the hospital immediately.]

“Give him a full-body checkup.” Song Xuanhe immediately put down the document in his hand, placing it on Xiao Yuanmu’s  forehead. It felt scalding hot. His hand began to tremble, and his heart began to thud violently with unease. He pulled out his phone with one hand to call Yu Yan, while the other kept gently shaking Xiao Yuanmu while he called his name. Xiao Yuanmu didn’t twitch.

Yu Yan picked up the phone quickly, the phone barely ringing before his voice answered: “Mr. Song? Is something wrong?”

“Xiao Yuanmu is running a fever, and he looks very unwell. Where should I bring him?”

“Wait!” Yu Yan pushed off Zhou Nan’s hand, getting up and going to his landline. Dialing the landline with one hand, he kept speaking to Song Xuanhe. “I’m going to send over some people to get you and Chief Xiao immediately. Are you two in your apartment right now?”

“Yes.”

“Please wait a little longer, they should be there in around ten minutes. In the meantime, try to bring down Chief Xiao’s fever as much as you can, but be careful not to let him catch a chill. Is that alright?”

Song Xuanhe hung up the phone and called Yang Jie.

Yang Jie had a key to Xiao Yuanmu’s apartment. Not two minutes after Song Xuanhe called, he was running into the apartment. When he saw the figure lying on the sofa and recognized Xiao Yuanmu’s face, his face turned pale in an instant.

Song Xuanhe was holding a towel soaked with cold water, and looked up to see the expression on Yang Jie’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to ask about it, instead immediately turning back to Xiao Yuanmu’s condition.

“Song-shao...” Yang Jie asked. “Did you call the hospital? Who did you call? You can’t have called a public ambulance, right?”

“No,” Song Xuanhe said. “I called Yu Yan.”

Yang Jie let out a breath. Looking at Song Xuanhe’s taut face, he opened his mouth a few times, but when he saw Xiao Yuanmu’s unconscious body out of the corner of his eye, he could only close his mouth tightly.

Yu Yan had given them a time bracket of ten minutes, but after seven minutes, the people he called for already arrived. They were very prepared, and the moment Xiao Yuanmu was loaded into the car they were already checking him over. 

Song Xuanhe sat beside him, looking with a tense expression as the doctors looked over Xiao Yuanmu. The car slowly pulled out of the quiet streets into the city.

“Where are we going?” Song Xuanhe looked away from Xiao Yuanmu towards Yu Yan to ask. “I don’t remember any hospitals in this direction, and the Xiao family private hospital isn’t in this direction either.”

In the face of Song Xuanhe’s interrogation, Yu Yan remained calm. “The Xiao family can’t find out about Chief Xiao’s current condition. Right now we’re going towards a hospital that Chief Xiao personally invested in- to be more accurate, it should be called a long-term care clinic, Xiao-ge’s private clinic. Still, the facility is up-to-date, and the equipment is better maintained than many private hospitals. You don’t need to worry.”

Song Xuanhe didn’t actually suspect Yu Yan of anything. Even if he didn’t trust Yu Yan himself, the fact that Yang Jie didn’t say anything about this meant that it was something that he had known about. It was just that he had never heard Xiao Yuanmu mention investing in any long-term care clinics, let alone building any private hospitals in said clinic.

Thinking about this, Song Xuanhe felt his heart grow heavier, and his expression became clouded. He hoped that the right time that Xiao Yuanmu had promised him to tell him about everything would be, in fact, the right time.

The car was very quick and efficient. Not thirty minutes had passed before they were driving into a place that was remote, but really looked to have the facilities that even top-notch private hospitals couldn’t compare to.

Song Xuanhe didn’t pay attention to his surroundings, quickly following Yu Yan into a private building. The doctors pushed Xiao Yuanmu into a private room to look him over. Yu Yan stayed at the door, and Song Xuanhe and Yang Jie waited together.

Finally, Song Xuanhe was able to exhale a little. He turned to Yang Jie: “Is Xiao Yuanmu hiding something from me? Or rather, are you and Xiao Yuanmu working together to hide something from me?”

Yang Jie pursed his lips, not looking into Song Xuanhe’s eyes. “Xiao-ge...he said that he would tell you.”

“When you left the country before, what exactly was that for?” The smell of disinfectant in the air made Song Xuanhe feel more tense. His expression became colder, and his voice also lowered as he said: “Tell me.”

Yang Jie avoided his gaze, pressing his mouth even more tightly together before saying: “I can’t tell you, Song-shao. Wait until Xiao-ge wakes up, and he’ll tell you himself.”

Seeing his evasiveness, Song Xuanhe had to take a deep breath to press down his temper. He asked  the system: [What condition is Xiao Yuanmu’s body in?]

[It’s complicated,] The system said. [I need some more time to get a more accurate result.]

Song Xuanhe furrowed his brows. [Shouldn’t your technology be more advanced than the technology of this time? Why do you need so long just to check his body?]

[When you finished your mission, many of my functions became limited,] the system said. [My physical scanning system is also not as advanced as before, sorry.]

Hearing the system’s apology, Song Xuanhe felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him, forcing him to calm.

[You don’t have to apologize,] Song Xuanhe rubbed his temple, walking to a sofa against the wall and sitting down. Putting his head in his hands, he said: [I was scared and lost my cool. I should be the one apologizing to you. Sorry.]

[You don’t need to apologize,] the system said. [I’m...just a system. You don’t have to apologize to a system.]

Song Xuanhe managed to lift his lips slightly with difficulty. [Why so heartless? You’ve already called me brother so many times. No matter what, aren’t we friends now?]

[Friends?] The system said hesitantly. 

[What? Do your regulations not allow you to make friends?] Song Xuanhe asked.

[Of course not.] The system responded quickly, then fell silent. After a few seconds, it spoke again: [I’ll be sure to properly check over Xiao Yuanmu’s condition. He’ll be fine, don’t worry.]

Song Xuanhe managed to drag up the corner of his lip before it fell again. He made a soft sound of acknowledgement.

Actually, when he snapped at Yang Jie earlier, he was just venting.

From the time that Xiao Yuanmu started to become more taciturn- when he started to work overtime more and more- him flying back without a clear reason- the complicated look Xue Mian had given him- the words that Yang Jie had bitten back after they returned overseas- Xiao Yuanmu getting visits from his financial advisor, his lawyer, his doctor- Xiao Yuanmu collapsing- the property transfer documents on the table-

The truth had always been right in front of him, on clear display. It was just that Song Xuanhe had never been brave enough to touch it.

After a while, a doctor left the emergency room. He addressed Song Xuanhe: “Mr. Xiao’s condition isn’t good  right now, but the details are still unclear. We need more time to inspect him to know more.”

Song Xuanhe wasn’t surprised. If the system needed more time, then the doctors could only take longer. “How much time?”

“About three hours,” the doctor said conservatively.

Song Xuanhe nodded, returning to the sofa with a downcast gaze, not speaking.

An indeterminable amount of time passed, and the system slowly spoke, voice complicated: [Xiao Yuanmu is...]

Just then, Yang Jie ran into the room and said to Song Xuanhe: “Xiao-ge is awake!”

Song Xuanhe stood up suddenly, turning and running to the private room. At the door, he suddenly came to a stop, then took two steps back. Behind these doors are the answers that he had been looking for. But now, he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know.

“Song-shao?” Yu Yan came up to him. “Chief Xiao is awake. Aren’t you going in?”

Song Xuanhe hesitated, pulling the door as he spoke. “I’m going to go in soon.”

Yu Yan nodded and left. Song Xuanhe took a step into the sickroom. On the bed was a person who, apart from being paler than usual, didn’t look much different. Their eyes met.

The hand that Song Xuanhe was using to grip the door tightened. As he was preparing to walk in, he stopped to look at Xiao Yuanmu quietly.

Xiao Yuanmu blinked at him and said: “Are you mad?”

Without waiting for an answer, he looked at him with clear, dark eyes and continued: “I bought congee for you to eat, so don’t be mad at me, okay?”

[languri]

I'm getting an influx of blogs following me not from my side acc all of sudden so here's a reminder:

This is not an art acc. Turn around now. I post my vents here. If you want to see my actual art go to my side acc instead thank u

[doriana-gray-games]

Ch 5.2 coming very soon! (on patreon)

I'll be posting the new chapter update within 24-48 hours from now.

Here's a new discord links cuties 💖

[penkura]

last forever [4/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I DID IT, IT'S DONE IN TIME FOR MONDAY POSTING. This has been waiting to be finished for MONTHS. I feel so bad about that. uuuh but I'm setting up a little bit, introducing Reader's older brother, a few other things for later down the line. Hope you enjoy it.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3]

Arriving in Loguetown felt almost like a dream come true, finally being able to get off the ship and stretch your legs. You'd not seen such a busy, bustling town in years. It put even Shells Town to shame with how many people were going about. The stalls of food and trinkets, you were excited to go around and look at everything before you'd all board the Merry again and be on your way to whatever was next. Nami immediately took you to shop for clothes, but you ended up distracted by some of the trinkets at the shop while she got an employee to look at everything she tried on.

The main thing to catch your eye was a sword on the wall, wondering if you should go find Zoro to bring in to see it.

“Oh,” one of the shop clerks smiles seeing you looking at the blade, “That’s from Wano, allegedly! Dad says he brought it back from a trip, but he’s not gonna sell it. It’s just decoration at this point.”

Your jaw clenches and you flinch the tiniest bit hearing Wano, but the clerk doesn’t say anything if she notices. Quickly you turn it into a smile, thanking her for the information and simply stating your friend would like to see it, you’ll try to bring him by, slipping out of the shop before Nami sees you leaving.

You take a deep breath and try to shake off the dread you feel hearing Wano, pushing out thoughts of your higher up fiancé who had every intention of taking you from your family there after the marriage was finalized. You’ve done your best to keep it a secret, it’s not like you’d all end up there anytime soon, if ever, so there’s no need to worry your crewmates about something and someone so far away, right?

Right.

So no need to say anything.

You try to convince yourself of that while looking over the trinkets at a stall you’ve found, not like you really need any of the items you see, but there’s something about the box you’ve been taking glances at constantly that leads the owner to pick it up and bring it over to you.

“It’s a set of wedding bands,” the older woman opens the box, showing you the two silver bands that are obviously meant for a man and a woman, a husband and wife, “Bought them from a jeweler in the South Blue years ago, no one has taken a shine to them yet. Are you in a relationship?”

Blinking, you feel your face grow warm as you smile nervously and shake you head.

“W-Well, I wouldn’t call it a relationship but…I…I have someone I like…”

“Oh I see! What’s this person like then? Must be special if they have your heart.”

“Um, well,” scratching the back of your neck, you don’t really have to think too hard, but it does feel a little weird telling this stranger about Zoro, “He’s really strong, an amazing swordsman, he taught me a good bit of what I know now. He's loyal to all of us, he fought to protect our friend and he…he saved me, I suppose is the biggest thing…”

The older woman smiles as you speak, seeing a shine to your eyes she wasn’t fully expecting. Whoever you’re talking about seems to have more of a hold on your heart than even you realize, she believes. Almost reminds her of herself when she was younger. She doesn’t ask anything else, instead waving you over with her as she starts to package up the ring box and hands it to you in a small bag.

“I won’t charge you for these, I’ve had them so long. Please, give the one to the man you’re so smitten with, maybe some good will come of it.”

She all but forces the bag into your hands, refusing to take no for an answer, even as you offer to at least pay for the bag or buy something else. She makes the excuse that she’s closed now and won’t accept even one berri from you, turning you around herself and sending you off. You felt bad that she just gave them to you, but she was so persistent, you think Nami will believe you haggled with the woman until she gave them to you for free.

Once you’re far enough away from the stall, you stop to take another look at the rings that were essentially forced on you. You don’t know why you wanted to check the box so badly before the woman brought them over to you, maybe some strange sense of what the box was, some weird hopeful part of you just somehow knew what it was.

They were pretty rings at least. Plain silver bands, the thinner one having a small clear jewel on it, you wonder how no one had ever bought them before when the woman said she’d had them for years. Part of you wonders what it would be like to wear the ring and actually be happy about it, and not feel like tearing it off and throwing it in the sea.

Not like it matters, it’s not a real marriage.

Sighing, you close the box and slip it into your pocket, starting to walk back towards the Merry before you hear someone say your name, shouting it a few times with excitement in their voice.

Wait. Wait, I know that voice.

You quickly turn around and have to will yourself not to cry when you see the person calling for you.

+!+

Once Zoro finally has three swords again, his next plan is to find a tavern before you all take off from Loguetown. He’s passed several places that he assumed some of you would be at, but just ducking his head in and looking around briefly showed no signs of any of you.

Mostly he’s been looking for you, to make sure you haven’t gotten yourself into any trouble. Since the day you’d met, Zoro knew you had the ability to put yourself in less than ideal situations, your home life did very little to make you skeptical of strangers, likely almost having it beat into you that you should be ready and willing to help anyone who asked for it. The one and only time it took to get it into your head not help anyone without asking questions was when you’d nearly been kidnapped, if Zoro hadn’t shown up in time and dragged you away. You sure got an earful from him later that night, with the threat that maybe he’ll just let a human trafficker take you next time if you’re that stupid again.

Zoro does realize that’s probably why you stay by his side, clinging to him like glue, but when it was just the two of you, it was the best way to make sure you didn’t get left behind or taken from him.

Part of him wonders how well that actually stuck, now that he sees you on the other side of the road, looking like you’re near tears as some guy talks to you with a bright smile on his face. He looks older, definitely taller than you but still shorter than Zoro, but not by much. He’s almost as blond as Sanji, and seems like he knows you very well. The angle he’s at doesn’t let Zoro know if you’re happy or upset, just that you’re wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, and he feels the need to hurry over to you, especially once this new person pulls you in for a hug that you can’t seem to return.

This guy.

He isn’t your alleged fiancé…right?

No, he’s too young.

“I’m so glad you’re doing well, who are you with right now?”

You sniffle a bit and give a smile before responding.

“I’m with—”

“She’s with me.”

Zoro surprises you by speaking and putting his arm around your shoulders, making you look up at him.

“Oh, Zoro, where did you—”

“Zoro?? So this is him?!”

If it weren’t for his previous status as the pirate hunter, Zoro would be questioning how this guy knows his name. He doesn’t even look at this other person, looking down at you to make sure you’re okay, even when you smile at him.

“Zoro, this is—”

“Hey, nice to meet you finally,” the blond holds his out for Zoro to take, but your swordsman is still wary of him, setting his free hand on his swords to maybe scare him off if he’s upsetting you, “Thanks for taking care of my little sister, man.”

“…little sister?”

Nodding, you move from Zoro to beside your brother, still smiling.

“Zoro, this is Elias, my older brother. He’s the one who helped me runaway and gave me his sword. Elias, this is—”

“Your husband!” Elias gives you such a bright grin that he doesn’t notice how you turn red and start trying to correct him. “I know already, mom and dad were pissed when your letter came. They’re still not sure what to do, you know.”

While he laughs, you sigh a bit, figuring that was why you hadn’t heard anything from them. Your parents must still be expecting you to come home, to say you’ve ended your marriage and they were right the whole time, you’ll just marry the man they chose for you.

It's not going to happen, but you think that’s probably what they want from you. To be a good daughter and do as your told.

It makes you want to throw up, remembering how they treated you.

“You’d think they’d be glad you and I both found people we love, but, you know mom and dad.”

“Since you married Amaya, I thought they’d leave me out of it all but, mom and dad of course.”

You keep up conversation with Elias for several minutes, Zoro barely listening as he just wants to make sure you’re really okay. You’ve never had a bad thing to say about your brother, he knows this, and truthfully, Zoro is happy to see you at least had someone from your hometown who cared about you. He does make note of how you aren’t trying to correct Elias regarding your relationship with him, but it’s likely so he keeps thinking you’ve found someone to keep you safe and away from your parents, even though you’re whole crew has promised that at this point.

Eventually Elias notices Zoro still staring at you both, looking like he’s getting antsy and wanting to leave, and your brother grins just a bit.

“I should get going. Amaya and our parents are expecting me back home in two days.”

“Oh,” your happiness suddenly drops, but you still nod, even when Elias hugs you again and you’re able to return it this time, “It…I was happy to see you, Eli.”

“I was even happier to see you doing well, princess,” Elias ignores you protesting him calling you that, while he turns to Zoro after releasing you, sticking his hand out again, “It was good to meet you too, Zoro. Thanks for taking care of my sister. I’m happy to know she found you.”

For a second you wonder if Zoro’s even going to bother shaking your brother’s hand, until he finally does you feel relieved.

“Yeah, no problem.”

You wave Elias off until he shouts something about you two having a child one day and letting him know immediately, causing both of you to blush fiercely as he laughs until he’s gone, and you look back to Zoro.

“S-So…where do you wanna go now?”

“Let’s…let’s find everyone else. Or at least Luffy.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Zoro turns and starts walking away from you, until you grab his wrist and start dragging him back the other way.

“No, this way.”

“…I knew that.”

He really didn’t, he fully believed that the best way would be back towards the docks, but when you giggle at him and start heading back into town, Zoro tries his hardest not to look at you too closely. Not to dwell on what your brother said, he was just messing with you both, since he doesn’t know the reality of your marriage.

So the fact Zoro’s suddenly wondering what your kids might look like makes him avoid eye contact, ignore the fact you’re still holding onto his wrist as you look for your crewmates. He’s so tired of this, of having people believe your marriage is real, and the thoughts that come with it every time someone brings it up.

Your annulment can’t come soon enough.

+!+

For all the time you’ve spent traveling and the people you’ve met, the strangers from Whiskey Peak were the weirdest ones. You should’ve expected something was up with how accepting they were of pirates, anything except them being Baroque Works members, so it was a shock when you found out that’s exactly what they were. You’ve only heard of the group once or twice from Zoro in the past, normally when you’d lost a bounty target by mere minutes due to their quick work.

So once you found that’s all that inhabited this place, you weren’t surprised to hear Zoro had already taken all of them down by the time you woken up from your nap on the Merry. You’d chosen to stay behind and watch your ship, your home, while the rest of your crew went to the island. You’d been woken up by their sudden return and new members on the ship in the form of Vivi and Karoo, who you’ve taken a quick liking to as you all make your way towards a place called Little Garden.

Although, you have noticed Sanji treating you differently from your other female crewmates.  While he openly flirts and falls over himself for the two, when it comes to you, he’s much more subdued and less extravagant, still treating you with respect but in less of a romantic way, it’s more friendly than anything.

But you still feel nervous when you bring it up to him, hoping you haven’t done something to make him like you less since you really do want to be his friend.

“Hey, Sanji, can I talk to you?”

“Of course!” Sanji gives you a grin while you sit at the table, smiling back, as he dries his hands and comes over to stand in front of you. “How can I help the lovely lady today?”

“Why do you flirt with Nami and Vivi but not me?”

You almost instantly shut your mouth when you finish speaking, biting your tongue before groaning over how you just blurted your question out. Sanji doesn’t respond right away, tilting his head as he thinks about it, and you continue to fight the embarrassment you now feel over even bothering to ask. It was a stupid question, Sanji could flirt with whoever he wanted, it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean you weren’t wanted, he just didn’t feel anything romantic towards you, that’s all, you reason.

It still hurts to think that though, you’re just making yourself more upset as you wait for Sanji to say anything.

“Well,” he scratches the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to word it in a way that won’t offend you, “I can’t rightfully flirt with a woman who’s heart is taken, can I?”

“…huh?”

That isn’t what you expected from Sanji, of all people. You expected him to apologize that you felt left out, fall at your feet because that’s what he does, groveling and begging tour forgiveness for not showing you the same attention as the other girls.

But this makes you feel better about it, really. You think it’s a testament to Sanji’s character, that he won’t go after someone who has feelings for another, even if you’ve yet to confirm to any of your other crewmates the feelings you have for Zoro.

“I’ve seen how you look at that mosshead of ours. I know you guys said your marriage isn’t meant to last forever, but you really like him,  right?”

Nodding slightly, you smile a bit as Sanji continues to grin at you.

“He might piss me off, but if you like him, there’s something good there.”

“I could tell you how we met one day.”

“Sure, might help me understand why you like that shitty swordsman so much.”

Sanji’s constant nicknames for Zoro actually make you laugh, and he keeps up conversing with you as he does the dishes, allowing you to help him bring drinks around to everyone a few minutes later. You two talk and laugh on your way out of the kitchen, you don’t even notice how it’s caused Zoro to watch you again, or how his jaw clenches after you bring a drink to him with a smile, before following Sanji back into the kitchen.

Now seeing you with the damn cook was making chest ache, what the hell is happening?

All of this needs to stop already.

[zhongrin]

| ◆ ch. vago mundo ⑊ zhongli

--⟢ ii. little dragon, big dragon |   teyvat continues to change, and nobody can stop it. but morax hopes that some things stay unchanged.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ tags ◇ fluff, rex lapis in the olden days is a (lovable) menace

◇ a/n ◇ everyone shush and hear me out!!!!!!! smol dragon!zhongli draped around your neck and purring like a cat. that's it that's the post.

"is that…"

"that improper animal… this new generation of disciples are just too full of themselves."

"the divine one is just far too lenient… i fear the young ones will continuously abuse their kindness."

rex lapis squints his eyes towards the whispers of the less fortunate souls, inwardly scoffing at the open jealousy in their words. it's your gentle touch that pulls him out of his musings, and he lightly cranes his eyes up to stare at your visage.

"this is quite a commendable feat, rex. to have such precise control over your physique… keep this up and you might even become an archon one day," you chuckle, fingers lightly tracing the small horns on the sides of his compact-sized dragon form.

he's unable to stop the instinctive purrs which are reverberating from the back of his throat, amber eyes closing in bliss as you let him curl even closer around your neck, though he takes extra care so his scales won't hurt you in the process.

"you know, a friend of yours came to find me the other day. guizhong, i think was her name? she told me about your… excursions."

the low purring immediately stops, and you hold back a laugh when you feel the little dragon shift uneasily around you.

"were those glaze lilies you gave me the other day from guizhong's little garden after all, hmm?"

".... maybe."

"oh, rex… you know how much she adores them."

"but you said you liked them the last time she showed you…"

"i do, but that doesn't mean you can filch them off guizhong's garden."

"but- she stole my treasures to give you those earrings last time, so now we're even!"

you had to laugh at that. the petty little squabbles from the younger acolytes are always one of your constant sources of entertainment, and this one is no different. you find the dynamics of this particular group amusing, and you can't deny that you might be a little biased when it comes to them. especially to the little dragon. he's witty and a little cheeky, just like all the hatchlings, but something tells you that he'll grow into an individual to be feared if he gains enough wisdom over the few hundred - or thousand, years.

you can only hope you'll be there to witness it when the time comes.

"i suppose, little wyrmling."

rex huffs, tail flopping back to your shoulder, snuggling closer around your neck.

"you didn't have to do all that, you know. i think they deserve to be angry."

morax shakes his head stubbornly as he closes the door of your bedroom behind the two of you. his hand lands on the small of your back and he leads you further into the room.

"while i have seen you making many mistakes throughout the olden times, i know you will always strive to do what you can to make up for it. i would never wish for dominion, but as long as i walk upon teyvat, there shall be no being who gets away with besmirching your name. and especially not in the nation i've cultivated to honor your very being."

you sigh at his tenacity and turn to face him instead, resting your hands on his chest and giving him your best patient smile. the hard lines on his expression smooth out, and you can feel him relax under your touch. soon enough his own hands fall back onto your waist, this time softly palming the sides of your hips, like a kitten making biscuits.

"though i'm honored, i think it's rather petty of you to go to such lengths when all they did was gossip… people have been working hard to rebuild the houses, right? an earthquake is just going to render their efforts useless…"

"ahem…. i'll admit that it wasn't my intention to react in such an… overly dramatic manner. it is my mistake. i realize now that i should have controlled myself better."

"oh, morax… this childish side of yours truly amuses me sometimes," you giggle when you sighted the reddened tips of his ears and the way he's lightly chewing his bottom lip in guilt.

sometimes you still can't believe that the rex lapis himself could be so… adorable.

"okay, enough of that! creator worship time is over! i want my dearest zhongli now, please?"

he perks up at your wish and you step back to watch him shift into his mortal form. it takes him a short few seconds, but it always fascinates you, the way he manages to do it so elegantly and the magical way his body transforms into a familiar appearance.

slender fingers absent of talons reach out towards you, and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing as you nuzzle into his chest with a satisfied hum. zhongli's deep chuckle caresses your ears and he maneuvers the both of you towards the nearby armchair. but before he can sit down and pull you on top of him, an idea hits you and you pull away slightly to tug on his clothes.

"can i play with your hair?"

"it would be my pleasure, dear."

with a pleased grin, you grab the various cushions and blankets from the couches nearby, making a small nest-like surface on the floor instead. zhongli sits cross-legged on it as soon as you plop onto the higher chair right behind the small area you've made for him, and your fingers automatically tug off the hairpin that holds his hair down his back. you unconsciously hum a tune of ancient lullabies as you continue on to play with his long strands of brown-gold hair, and the god of contracts lets himself melt onto your hold with a contented sigh.

thousands of years may have passed, and you might have lost the memories of your olden days with him forever.

yet, as you continue to spoil him with your sweet words and comforting presence, he realizes that your love for teyvat, for him, no matter which forms and the identity he takes, has stayed true and strong even without those memories.

and zhongli realizes that it's all he could ever ask for.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[gogotti]

Happy (late) B-day! Michael Myers/GN!Reader - NSFW

me writing a Michael fic again, who would have thought? Anyway, this was supposed to be for his birthday but I did not finish it in time. This was also gonna be a kinktober thing, and even though it's November I'm still gonna post it under my kinktober tag lmfao.

This fic's prompt was Tied Up & Nipple Play

Warnings: Reader is def giving dom vibes in this one, Michael is tied up and he loves hates it, he growls a lot too, obviously lots of nipple mentions, Reader praises him a lot, I'll say slightly subby Michael cause that's the vibe I was feeling writing this, Michael cums untouched.

The sight before you, Michael decorated with pretty rope, and the redness of his skin was enough to make your knees weak. You couldn't help but ignore his silent grunts and stare at him as he leaned against the headboard, staring at you with a mixture of hatred and desperation. You sat between his spread legs and slowly trailed your fingers up his thighs, watching as his muscles tensed and flexed as you got closer to his aching cock.

You cooed, “Don't worry baby, the birthday boy will get his present very soon.”

He growled at you, and you knew he was regretting letting you tie him up. You simply smiled at him, narrowly missing his teeth as you attempted to brush a piece of hair back behind his ear. You gave him a disappointed look, and for a moment he looked to the side, ashamed, before huffing at you in anger and continuing to glare like before.

“I thought you were gonna play nice Mikey?”

He rolled his eyes, and a part of you did too; how are you going to ask the boogeyman of Haddonfield to play nice? Michael never played nice, you knew that firsthand. You shrugged, deciding to let him keep his attitude, you were already pushing your limits by tying him up. You couldn’t help but sit back and look at his tied-up form and feel a bit of confidence at the fact that you had managed to capture THE Michael Myers; a man who has been evading the law for a long while now.

He huffed at you again, his long hair flying for just a second and revealing his pale eyes. You slowly reached forward and cupped Michael’s face, this time hissing at him when he nipped at your palm.

“Look at those pretty eyes, let me see those eyes baby.”

He let out a sharp exhale and tilted his head upward, allowing all of his hair to fall back and reveal his eyes. You hummed in approval, and you just barely caught his cock bobbing slightly at the attention.

“You're such a pretty boy, Michael, y’know that?”

He continued to stare at you, and you let your hand fall to his chest, then let your fingers dance along him until you brushed past his nipple. Michael didn't react, but his cock bobbed slightly at the feeling, giving him away. You lightly brushed your fingers back and forth and watched as his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. The light touches didn't last long, as you suddenly grabbed his nipple, twisting slightly. His head lurched forward, and he bucked his hips toward you the best he could.

You smiled, and you pretended not to hear the growl that Michael let out above you. You continued playing with his nipples, watching him huff and grunt while trying his best to get some sort of friction. You brought your other hand up to his nipple, making sure to lightly touch his cock on the way up. He bucked his hips again but failed to get any friction, his sigh of anger soon turned to one of pleasure as you now had both hands playing with his nipples. You leaned in toward him and kissed along his chest, listening to his soft breaths and gasps.

“You want me to use my mouth, Mikey?”

You could feel his hair move as he nodded his head, and you quickly indulged him. You swiped your tongue around his nipple a few times before pulling at it with your teeth, then moving over to the other one and doing the same thing. You smiled at the light feeling of his cock bobbing against your shirt, and you continued to tease him with your tongue, now changing the rhythm of your biting. You hummed as you felt the tip of his cock brush your stomach, and suddenly he lurched forward, your humming pushing him over the edge. He twitched as he came, painting your stomach with his cum and whimpering above you. You slowly came to a stop, letting your hands fall to his thighs and rub them.

He huffed above you, and you leaned back to look at his face, which was completely red. You smiled at him, watching as he avoided eye contact. “I didn't know you liked that so much, Mikey. I didn't even have to touch you.”

He looked up at you, his face slightly twisting into a glare, and lunged, a low growl coming from him. You heard the unsettling snap of what you hoped was not the pretty rope you tied him up with, and you could only smile at him nervously as the loosened rope began to fall from his body.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Don't Hold My Hand (I'll Break Your Heart) || Tommy Shelby x Fem OC ~ Ch. 4

Summary: Charlotte realises that she doesn't know her employer as well as she thought she did. Clouded by indecisions, she takes a path that may have unexpected consequences when things take a turn for the worst

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Talks of medical procedures, needles and blood. Mentions of PTSD. Tommy gets violent. No beta reading we die like John

Author’s note: I have NO excuse. Not even I know why I dropped the ball on this, but I will just say that 2024 has been sucker punching me in the face since January 1st and has not given me respite. I am hoping that this time I will be able to post more consistently, but again, who knows with me?

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NOTICE ANY GRAMMAR ERRORS

Requested taglist: @call-sign-shark  @zablife

《Prev part -

Bright sunlight peeked into the bedroom through the gaps in the curtains, bathing everything in golden warmth. Blackbirds and nightingales chirped in their branches, their cheerful songs mingling with the sounds of the daily bustling of the state; horses neighing in their paddocks, hounds barking at the sight of wild rabbits; the old truck coming up the road bringing fresh meat and groceries for the week. It all sounded so typical, so average, not a toe out of place, nothing out of the ordinary. Except Charlotte.

The first thing she noticed was that the bed under her aching body was not hers. Albeit top quality, the mattress she slept in had obviously been used before; softer around the middle and with a characteristic indent in the exact position where she sat every morning to slip on her stockings and shoes. But the one under her was much firmer and sturdy, and her back had definitely noticed it. The pillows also felt different, as did the sheets. The sun shone on the wrong side, not landing on the bed like she preferred. But it was all forgotten when she noticed a hand clinging to hers, fingers intertwined with her own on a gentle grip.

Her eyes opened abruptly, and she sat up so quickly bright lights danced in her vision. She was used to being awoken in a startle; injured and dying soldiers didn’t wait for her to wash her face and tighten her corset before coming in. But waking up in Tommy’s bed, dressed in only her nightgown and robe and with his hand laced with hers surpassed any startle. 

The memories from the last 24 hours flooded her mind like a horror movie. Doctor Keller’s visit, the uncertainty of the wait, the abrupt waking up with Thomas moaning in pain in the dead of the night, and the horrifying discovery of the punctures on his back, crimson blood soaking through gauzes and clothes onto the bed sheets. 

The man next to her slept so peacefully, face buried in the pillows and soft snores escaping his lips, one could hardly believe the suffering he had been subjected to just hours prior. The laudanum dosage Charlotte administered should keep him out of it until midday at least, but that didn’t worry her; he definitely looked like he needed that rest.

Carefully, with the same gentleness one would handle a newborn with, Lottie turned him on his side, propping his body with pillows to properly assess the damage. At least he hadn’t bled through his clothes again, but that small relief did little to placate the cold feeling that settled at the bottom of her stomach after she cut off the bandages. 

The wounds on his back had already begun to scab, surrounded by near black bruises of various sizes, from his mid back all the way down to the top of his tailbone. The punctures were evenly spaced both sideways and lengthwise, and Charlotte soon realised they were meant to follow the length of his spine. She could not even fathom the pain those must have caused, nerve damage or not.

Charlotte didn’t know how to proceed from there. Every fibre of her being urged her to run to Mrs. Gray, expose Doctor Keller for a charlatan, and let the Peaky Blinders dispose of him as they saw fit. But on the other hand, acting behind his back would surely shatter the feeble bond of trust Lottie and Tommy had developed. It didn’t matter that she only did it with his best interests in mind; he would perceive it as betrayal on her part, and would set back the small but significant progress she had made with him. She had a duty with her patient, but that duty had divided in two widely different roads, both pulling at her with equal strength.

A firm knock on the door interrupted her train of thought. In a panic, she realised it was a quarter past 10 in the morning, much later than the hour in which she usually fetched Tommy’s breakfast tray from the kitchens, a little after 9. A second, much larger panic overcame her as she took note of her state of dress, or rather, undress. She had no proper excuse to be in her nightgown only, and even if she explained that she had spent the night watching over Thomas, it still did not give her reason to look like she had just risen from bed, his bed. 

She paced back and forth, debating whether to answer the door or just feign deafness and pretend she wasn’t there. She could not hide there forever, but she much preferred to step out with no witnesses present. And God forbid it was Mrs. Gray on the other side; she held the woman in high esteem, and being found by her in such a compromising situation was mortifying, even if nothing less than honourable had happened. 

A third knock urged her to make a decision, and a small, female voice coming from the other side

“Nurse Tindall, are you in there? I’ve brought up the breakfast tray for Mr. Shelby, may I come in?”

Lottie breathed a sigh of relief as she recognised the voice of Ella, a new maid who was as sweet as she was witless. It would not be hard to distract her, as she did anything she was asked to, no matter how stupid the request sounded. Charlotte cleared her throat and walked closer to the door, making deliberate sounds around to appear busy.

“Mr. Shelby is getting dressed, come back later please” She did her best to sound firm in a kind way, not wanting to trigger another of the girl’s crying episodes over feeling herself scolded. But much to her unluckiness, Ella seemed committed to delivering the food, surely not wanting to unleash the cook’s wrath upon her. Peeling a cartful of potatoes surely drivers the lesson home to not let the eggs go cold.

“But I’ve already brought the tray over, and Mrs. Bird will be upset if I go back down with it. May I come in? I promise I won’t look!” Lottie could hear the distress in the girl’s voice; she knew that Ella would not survive long in the house’s service like that.

“I said no, Ella. Mr. Shelby needs his privacy” Her words came a little harsher than she had originally intended, and she could practically see Ella flinching and the wobble of her lower lip. Not wanting to send the maid back down defeated and in tears, she spoke again, a little softer this time “Leave the tray on the side table and I’ll bring it in once we’re finished here”

Lottie waited with bated breath, ears perked up as she heard Ella push aside some ornaments to place the silver tray down, catching even the soft tinkling of saucers and teacups. Her relief lasted only until she heard footsteps going down the stairs, for soon a deeper, slurred voice came from behind her.

“With that level of quick minded resourcefulness, you could work for my company”

Tommy was awake, no doubt aroused from his slumber by her banter with the maid. Charlotte had been certain that the sleeping tinctures would keep him under until at least after lunch, but again, what could half a cup of laudanum do against a man who had been using morphine and opium freely for the best part of the last five years?

Her nurse instincts kicked in and she immediately rushed to his side, taking a motherly stance as she gently brushed hair away from his forehead, discreetly checking for any rise in his temperature; although he felt sweaty, he didn’t seem to be running a fever. Her fingers circled his wrist, counting the steady beats of his heart, and her ears perked up, ready to detect any change in the pattern of his breathing.

“I am not dying, not yet at least” Thomas huffed, in what turned out to be a poor attempt at lightening the severity of the situation. But even then he couldn’t deny he had been left extremely weakened; even opening his eyes appeared to be a struggle, and the dark circles under them cut sharply against the sickly paleness of his complexion.

Charlotte felt grief tugging at her heartstrings at his sight, alongside an overcoming sense of guilt for not having stopped Doctor Keller; she should have trusted her gut and dragged them all out by the ankles the second they kept her from accompanying Thomas through the treatment. Nothing good ever came from things happening behind closed doors. And certainly nothing good could ever come from a treatment that required him to be gagged and held down.

She reached over to the basin to retrieve a damp cloth, gently dabbing away the sweat from Tommy’s temples and brow. His eyes closed again, tongue darting out to moisten his cracked lips. Lottie wanted to ask, she needed a what, a how and a why, but she didn’t want to push him when he looked like that, so miserable and battered. The sight of his back pierced and stabbed, his limp body lying on blood soaked sheets, and the helplessness and vulnerability in his eyes, had been forever engraved in her memory. To see a man like him brought down to that, it made her heart ache.

“Are you hungry?” She asked quietly, swallowing down her other questions and worries to focus first and foremost on his comfort. “I could ask the cook to make you something light if your stomach is upset. Maybe some soup and toast?”

He shook his head, opening one eye just enough to gauge Charlotte’s expression. Just like his aunt’s, there was something unsettling about Thomas’s gaze. While Mrs. Gray looked like she could know all your secrets with just one look, Thomas had a certain determination in his eyes, a glint of mischief added with something that Lottie couldn’t quite pinpoint; but she knew for certain that Mr. Shelby could convince anyone to do his bidding only by staring them down. But she also noticed he possessed the same perennial shadow that all war veterans did; a mark that they all shared and would never fade.

“I suppose asking you for a glass of whiskey and to pass me cigarettes won’t work even now, eh?”

Charlotte had always had more than a few opinions about Thomas’ average diet of eating nothing, but the fact that he felt well enough to joke about it did manage to lighten her spirits. She noticed he kept trying to dampen his lips and his tongue appeared quite parched; with a teaspoon she managed to give him some sips of water, since she didn’t feel confident enough to sit him up just yet.

A pregnant silence hovered in the air, with Charlotte knowing both had things they wanted to say. Her thoughts continued to swirl around aimlessly, torn between rushing straight to Mrs. Gray to tell her everything she knew so far, or to wait to hear the complete story from Tommy’s lips. But would he be willing to tell? Did he remember even, or had the memories been wiped away by the trauma and the pain medicines?

Even if she wished to avoid it forever, she couldn’t. She needed to redo the dressings on his back, and she had learned through experience the way some veterans reacted when their wounds were touched, as if the contact triggered the memories they so desperately tried to bury deep, deep down. And so, she figured she might try while the laudanum still lingered, hoping that the remaining opioids in his system would keep him tame should he lash out.

“Tommy, there’s some wounds left on your back from your…treatment” Calling that medicine left a bitter taste on Charlotte’s mouth, but she couldn’t go and call it torture to his face “I need to bandage them again but I promise to be careful. You need to let me know if anything is bothering you, is that okay?” A part of herself felt she was talking him down like a child, but that had worked before with other veterans in similar situations, and at worse, Thomas would get mad at her, which would be no different than usual.

But much to her surprise, Tommy appeared awfully calm with the information she had just given her, as if the notion of having been poked full of holes didn’t faze him at all. A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine as she began to consider the option that Tommy knew what had been done to him, or worse, that he had willingly submitted to it.

While she gathered her supplies, she noticed some dried blood lingered under her nails from the previous night’s ordeal. The sight of all that blood, gauzes dripping with it, the liquid pooling since the sheets could not soak up any more…She had seen ten times worse over the years in the front, and had faced it all with a sternness that unnerved even her colleagues. Why could she not detach herself this time? Was it because she could not stand the desperate being taken advantage of? Or had she grown attached at last to her insufferable patient?

Suddenly her common sense decided to abandon her. She dropped what she had on her hands and rounded the bed to face Thomas, leaning down until she was eye to eye with him. She had to gauge the truth from him, she needed the story straight so she could put a stop to this.

“Thomas…Thomas do you know what that doctor did to you?” She breathed through her nose once, to keep her voice from faltering “Did he tell you what he did exactly?” She reached to take one of his hands. The previous night the contact had been an act of desperation, and now it bore similar purpose “I don’t know if you remember but last night you woke up and..and you were-”

“Bloodied and in pain? Yes, I remember” The way he said it, with such carelessness as if he were simply saying he woke up thirsty, didn’t sit quite right with Charlotte. Far too calm, even for a man like him. “Doctor Keller warned me that the first couple of nights would be difficult to get by. He told me to rely on the laudanum, but I thought I could toughen it out. I should have listened…the doctor always knows best.” 

His dovish words confirmed her worst fears, and Lottie felt her stomach drop to her knees. He knew. He knew everything that had been done to him. How could he not? Thomas Shelby wouldn’t let a doctor put a single finger on him without knowing first what would be done to him. 

Her grip on his fingers tightened, and she leaned closer, far closer than their faces had even been before “Tommy, what he’s done to you is inhuman. It’s barbaric. I’m sure men who have been tortured have endured less than what you did yesterday. You cannot let him get away with it, or he will do it again to others. I will tell Mrs. Gray to deal with him, we won’t let him get close to you again”

“No” That time, his hand gripped hers, with such strength that made her fingers ache. “You will not do such a thing. You will leave that man alone, and let him do what he must. Understood?” There, in that moment, Charlotte caught a glimpse of what Tommy used to be like, when he was the man that terrorised Small Heath and had half of Birmingham bending the knee like he were some sort of king. A man who had built an empire from scratch and, rumour had it, ruled it like a tyrant. 

“Thomas, look at yourself!” She protested, not allowing herself to be intimidated “Look at what he’s done to you. What treatment can be worth being punctured by needles the length of your hand all down your back? Do you even know what’s been injected?”

“I don’t need to know. All I need it’s for it to work” He had to have lost his mind, That was the only answer as to how Thomas could so blindly trust Keller. That quacksalver had sweet spoken his way into Tommy’s mind, and had used his fear and hopelessness as grounds to plant the seed of hope. He saw Tommy as a drowning man, and appeared before him offering him a raft, which turned out to be only a rotten piece of wood.

“No” Determination laced Lottie’s words “I will not allow this to continue. You have been taken for a fool, Thomas, and it is my duty as your nurse to make you see reason when you can’t for yourself. I know a trickster when I see one, and God knows I’ve seen plenty” She felt anger loaded in her words; but not directed at her patient. Rather directed at Keller, and the dozens of men like him who saw chance for profit in the suffering of the war veterans who had lost everything fighting for their lives “I will not allow that man to set foot here again. I’ll barricade the door myself if I must, and I know Mrs. Gray will agree with me” Charlotte knew that Mrs Gray tried to antagonise her nephew as little as possible, only in extreme circumstances; well, this was definitely one of those.

What happened next took Lottie completely aback. Thomas let go of her hand, but instead gripped her chin, his fingers holding her with such strength that she felt the pain radiate up her jaw. His eyes were pure ice, cold and unforgiving, and he pulled her face down, forcing her to meet his gaze

“You won’t do shit. You will do what you do, what you are paid to do, and nothing more. For everything else, you keep your head down. I believe Polly told you that you would be expected to turn a blind eye for some things; well, this is one of those things. You are not family, you are just a worker, and you do what you are told, eh?”

“But-”

“But nothing” His grip tightened even more, if possible, forcing a whine out of Charlotte’s lips. She had never seen him like this before, not even during her first days in the manor when he did everything in his power to be a nuisance to her and scare her away. He had screamed, he had slammed tables, he had thrown to the wall cups and glasses and trays, but not even once had he laid a hand on her “You do what I say, and nothing more. If you tell Polly, I will fire you on the spot. If you try to interfere with Doctor Keller, things can get very ugly very quickly. Am I clear?”

Charlotte felt fear. For the first time since her arrival to Arrow House, she felt fear. Her heart hammered her ribs and her knees felt weak. This man before her was not the Tommy who had shown weakness just the night before, asking her to keep him company for the night and holding her hand; not even the man who had flipped over a table because she begged him to eat. Lottie recognised in him the first tendrils of the madness proper of someone with nothing left to lose. Tommy saw Keller as his last chance, and he would not let anything or anyone take that chance away. He had become obsessed, and obsession was just a step away from madness.

She nodded at his words, if anything to get Tommy to let go of her face. After a few more seconds of staredown, in which she felt diminished to the size of a mouse, Tommy let her go and laid back down

“Good. Now fuck off. Doctor Keller said that the wounds need to be aired to heal faster, and I want to sleep”

Somehow, Charlotte found enough control of her legs to stand and walk away, tripping on the carpet and crashing against an armchair on her way out. Her heart beat rampantly, the thumping booming on her ears and temples. She held herself until she had closed the double doors behind her, and only then collapsed against the panelled wall, burying her face in her hands. She had been threatened before, plenty of times, by men far too deep in their cups, or their drugs, or in the demons inside their heads. 

But never before by a true threat.

She knew as well as any what the Peaky Blinders did, and she knew they had no qualms on the choosing of their victims. And something in the way Tommy said those words, the intensity of his gaze, the strength of his grip, told Charlotte that he wouldn’t doubt acting upon his words should she cross him. 

She immediately thought of telling Mrs Gray everything. Every last detail, her position in the house be damned; Thomas could fire her but he could not rid himself of his aunt. With that steely determination Charlotte walked down the stairs, her steps resonating in the emptiness of the house. But that lasted only until she reached the landing. Would Mrs Gray side with her? Or would she let her nephew entertain his false hopes, if only to give him a false sense of happiness? Would she find in the older woman an ally, or would she just waste her time and her job entertaining her sense of justice? After all, just like Thomas said, she was just a worker, not family, and she should not speak above her station.

And yet.

Clinging onto her morals as only support, Charlotte set out to find Mrs Gray and tell her exactly what had happened; it might cause her to lose the best job she had held since the war ended, but at least she would leave that house at peace with her morals. But her mission finished as quickly as it began. She asked Frances the whereabouts of Mrs Gray, and a bucket of ice water was dropped upon her head when she was informed that Mrs. Gray had left to tend business in London and would not return for at least a week. Speaking face to face with her, locked in the privacy of the older woman’s office was one thing. But telephone her all the way to London, and possibly interrupt her affairs to basically snitch on her nephew…

A week. She would have to wait a week. And Charlotte hoped her resolve would last that long.

~

She felt out of place, wearing her blouses and skirts after spending the best part of half a year in only her nurse uniforms. Lottie sat on the terrace of a fancy French cafe, enjoying an espresso and a small assortment of pastries. She had a few magazines before her, and pen and paper to finally write down those letters she had due for weeks, but she simply could not concentrate, not on a day like that. The bells of a nearby church rang five times; in the blink of an eye two hours of her life had escaped her, for it was a few minutes past three when she sat on that chair, feeling her knees weak and her hands clammy.

After Tommy’s threat, things had gone down as well as one could expect. Charlotte spent the following week walking on eggshells around him, scared to even look him in the eye. Tommy had been a particularly obedient patient, dutifully drinking all his medicines and eating all his meals like he had never done before, but he had once more condemned Lottie to the silent treatment, not giving her more word than the occasional command to bring him something or, more specifically, to leave him alone. She had anxiously awaited the return of Mrs. Gray, hoping his aunt would help him see reason where she had failed so spectacularly. 

The showdown between them had surely been heard all through the county, the tone of their argument escalating steadily to the point Charlotte could clearly listen to every word they said, even sitting at the foot of the staircase, her elbows resting on her knees and her thumbs pressing on her brow in hopes of alleviating what had become a chronic headache. Perhaps she had committed a calamitous mistake telling everything to Mrs. Gray. Or perhaps her first big mistake had been taking that job.

When Mrs. Gray finally came down to meet her, she looked absolutely defeated; and Lottie knew right away that she had risked it all for nothing.

Thomas had absolutely refused to back down on his treatment, quoting over and over that Keller said it had to get worse before it got better. He had said horrible things about his aunt and Charlotte, about how they wished him ill and had no desire to see him recover his life because it suited them better to keep him chairbound. Mrs. Gray had let the hurtful words sweep past her like breeze, but Charlotte felt them more like stones thrown to her face, even if they were just lies. 

In the end, Lottie had not been fired, her job position saved by Mrs Gray’s resilience to not let go of the first caretaker who had made it past the three month mark. She did however insist that Lottie cash in all the days off she was owed, plus an extra paid day on the house. That gave her exactly a week of holiday, and therefore, would keep her away the day Doctor Keller was scheduled to come for his next appointment. 

When she boarded the car that would take her to the station that Sunday morning, wearing her navy blue coat and her prettiest hat, a part of her wondered if she should leave for good; mail in her resignation and have someone else pick up the rest of her belongings. She could not envision what future she could have there now, as her relationship with Tommy had surely been permanently and irreparably damaged by their rift. He would never trust her completely again, and she couldn’t stand by idly and watch him pay himself into an early, horrific death.

Not wishing to spend her week in good old Birmingham, Lottie decided her salary allowed her to take her time off in London. She found lodging on a small bed and breakfast near Camden, and put her time to good use, hoping to keep herself distracted. She got new books to read, dined in a different place each night, and finally gave her wardrobe a much overdue refresh. But she could never shake off the knowledge that, each day that passed, was a day closer to Doctor Keller returning to Tommy’s side. It remained a perpetual nagging feeling on the back of her mind. She could not go a single day without something reminding her of it.

Charlotte felt her blood boil whenever she thought about how many men had been tricked before Thomas. Perhaps if she found one or two who had undergone the same treatment, with obviously less than satisfactory results, they could help her convince Tommy to abandon before it was too late. Hoping against hope, she set aside money to post a few small, as inconspicuous as possible advertisements, avoiding directly mentioning the doctor by name. At worst, it would all end in a few wasted coins and nothing else. 

Saturday she spent in a continuous fright, obsessively checking the hour everywhere she could. By 3 pm, she knew that awful man and his equally awful aids would be crossing the threshold. By 6, she figured they would be done cleaning up whatever gruesome mess they had left behind, with Tommy tucked in bed, absolutely knocked out by double and triple doses of opioids. 

She couldn’t find sleep that night, tossing and turning until the blankets were tangled in her legs. Even through emotional exhaustion her mind refused to quiet down. Was Tommy sleeping well? Was he comfortable? Would he wake again in the dead of the night in agony and alone, with no one to wipe his brow or change the sheets? Charlotte tried and failed again and again to force the thoughts out of her mind, but they refused to budge; even if she chastised herself for caring so deeply, she couldn’t help herself.

Sunday she spent no better, and after a short walk she decided to return to her room and give herself a lazy day, rearranging her suitcase and indulging in one of her new books alongside some cookies she bought nearby. She wasn’t expected back on the manor until Tuesday morning, yet she kept all her belongings packed and ready to go fleeing out the door.

After a humble dinner in a nearby pub, Lottie returned to her lodgings, deciding to indulge herself with a long bath, taking advantage of having a private bathroom. But just as she had crossed the entrance, a bellboy came to meet her, telling her there was a call for her on the front desk. 

Puzzled, Lottie followed the boy, wondering who could be calling her at that hour, since no one knew her whereabouts. Trepidation creeping up her spine, she picked the apparatus, trying to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in her gut

“Hello?”

“Charlotte” Mrs Gray's voice resounded from the other side. Despite the familiarity, the knowledge that it was her calling didn’t reassure her one bit. A woman like her didn’t call at that hour to talk about the weather

“Mrs Gray, is everything okay?” She didn’t even bother to ask why or how she had Charlotte’s current address. They knew everything about everyone; they probably knew more about Charlotte than she herself did.

“No, things are not okay. Doctor Keller came yesterday; only God knows what he did, but Tommy didn’t wake up until today after midday, and he didn’t let me or any of the maids touch him or feed him”

Charlotte sighed, sensing immediately where the conversation was heading “Mrs. Gray, if you think that I can get past his thick head-”

“No” The older woman cut short “I don’t think you can, and that’s not why I called. Around dinner I went to check on him, try to get him to eat. Force feed him if I must. And I found him” Charlotte could hear her sigh slowly “I found him unconscious. So pale he was grey, laying in a pool of sweat. He had vomited too, I think. Couldn’t even wake him with a slap to the back”

Charlotte’s eyes widened, and her heart raced at the information she received, immediately noticing how bad the situation had turned “Mrs Gray, that is very serious. He needs to be seen by a doctor! Did you-”

“I called the ambulance. They’ve taken him right away. It’s the hospital I’m calling from. The doctor says he has an infection and that it’s reaching his blood”

Charlotte swallowed. Infections of the blood never had a good prognosis in the field, not even in the hospitals. Yet she clung to false hope when she asked her next question

“Did he…did he say it was bad?”

The pause that followed seemed to stretch for days, but that wasn’t half as bad as hearing Mrs. Gray voice crack for the first time

“They say he’s likely to die”

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

This week I have mostly been reading...

May 13-19th, 2024

New idea I've had, and hopefully something I'll have time to do once a week on a Sunday. Over the past seven days, I have devoured the following Good Omens fanfics, and I recommend these most heartily to you:

Completed works I've read this week:

Boyfriend Debut by snae_b Rated E - A & C are both porn actors. It sounds seedy. It's not. Holy Hell, it's not. It's one of the hottest things I've ever read, but also so, so sweet and delightful.

They Drink Tea At The End by @knifeforkspooncup Rated T - After a year spent in Heaven, A returns to C in the bookshop completely and utterly overstimulated in every sensory capacity. A wonderful, sweet story of them truly knowing each other and an excellent example of how the fandom relates to GO in so many beautiful ways.

Pay Per View by IneffableToreshi Rated E - A lovely story set in Canada, full of our so frequently seen miscommunication between A & C. And, as the author says: "Also, why the fuck is Aziraphale watching porn in their hotel room?! And taking notes?!"

Cranking Up The Heat by @vavoom-sorted-art Rated E - Well, the title says it all, really. And the fic's description: "The equivalent of that hot wings challenge, but with porn." Don't really want to say much more, as you've gotta see it to enjoy it.

On The Same Page by Chekhov Rated E - A fake marriage fic with Only One Bed. A & C are both authors, but two very different ones. Excellently written with very vividly described mental struggles with internal homophobia & self loathing.

A Model Guardian by Fuuma_san Rated E - As a former model, I found this fic really interesting. I'd genuinely love to know what the author's tie/experience in the industry is. C is a model, A is their bodyguard. An interesting tale which involves some great discussion on gender.

In The Room Where You Sleep by @mrghostrat Rated E - Another banger by ghostrat, posted in its entirety this week. In a reversal to many other fics I've seen, A is a vampire and C is a vampire hunter. *Homer Simpson voice* With sexy results. ;)

WIPs which have updated this week (which I devour as soon as I get the update!)

There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A is a researcher (puffins!), C is a lighthouse keeper on the island where A has run away to to escape his problems and do his research. The author has recently spent a week studying puffins - which is the ultimate dedication, if you ask me. Ch 9/26 posted this week

Find The Light by @klikandtuna Rated E - Headmaster A and Rockstar C. The story teases out a fraught history between them whilst keeping a tension between them in the modern day. Ch 4/? posted this week.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley Rated T - Astronaut A is guided back to Earth by controller C after 92 years in space. There are many difficulties both of them have to face and they develop an amazing rapport. Ch 15/17 posted this week.

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - Actor C is contracted by (useless) Gabriel to guest curate an exhibition at the museum where A works. After getting off on the wrong foot, can they work together to pull off this show? Ch 22/24 posted this week.

Under The Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - This wonderful fic has taught me more about physics than school ever did (mostly because I never did any physics, but...well). A & C have to share their time at an observatory because there is Only One Telescope. Not only will you learn about astrophysics, astrobiology, and astroecology, you'll also read some of the most poetically, beautifully written masturbation scenes I've ever seen. *ahem* Ch 6/13 posted this week.

Free by well, me: imposterssyndrome Rated E - A & C meet (again?) in an acute mental health ward after both having had mental health crises. A runs a bookshop but is very much under his parents' control. C has been homeless since childhood and has struggled his entire life. They do not trust each other when they first meet, but feel strangely drawn to one another all the same. Where will this lead them? This is a passion piece for me. There is a lot of lived experience in it, and extensive research from both professionals and peers. It has been a real journey for me to write it, and as I'm coming closer to the end it's becoming very emotional for me. Ch 43/? posted this week

[partially-controlled-chaos]

New Life Shall Prosper, ch 4 (End)

Pairing: Halsin x Reader (as gender neutral as possible, given the context)

Rating: T? (not really smut, but there are some little spicy moments later on)

Warnings: Little spicy moments, but nothing extreme. Pregnancy complications, birthing process that isn't graphic, so much dialogue

Summary: Months after the fall of the Absolute, you and Halsin have carved a happy life for yourselves within Thaniel's Realm, making a safe haven for all. A life full of hope and prosperity, only enhanced once you discover the very real possibility that you are with child.

Word Count: 6.7K

an: Finally managed to get this chapter and story wrapped up. It's certainly been one of my favorites to write and I'll miss working on it! I have more Halsin stuff in the works coming up relatively soon along with some other fics focused on different characters. You can find the next piece of Halsin work here. Thank you so, so much to everyone that has left comments, likes, and reblog on this story!

Follow up to this post.

Read on AO3 here if you prefer!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Masterlist

Gentle rays of moonlight trickled in through the large window of your common room, illuminating your path just enough so you avoided bumping into furniture as you paced the room, hoping walking and rocking would be enough to soothe the crying newborn in your arms. You yawned deeply as you turned at the end of the room, softly running your hand along the back of the baby as you held them close to your chest, shushing and soothing as you walked. You’d been trying for the better part of an hour to coax your little one back to sleep and failing abysmally. A quick change of clothes and a late night feeding had worked temporarily when the cries first jolted you from your own sleep, but had soon started again until you found yourself in your current predicament. You weren’t sure what would calm the child, but you hoped and prayed you would find the solution soon enough so you could return to your own sleep. 

Life with a newborn had certainly taken some getting accustomed to, but you and Halsin had both quickly adapted to the change. It was easiest to take turns in seeing to the baby when they cried late at night or early in the morning so you both could get as much sleep and rest as possible. Not that either of you minded, of course. Despite the annoyance that came with being awake in the middle of the night, you both secretly enjoyed spending alone time with your little one. Tonight, however, was different. You were desperate to return to sleep and it seemed that your beloved child was doing everything they could to keep you from your bed.

Your latest turn from your pacing was suddenly interrupted by an unmovable wall blocking your path, making you come to a stop. Halsin stood before you, ready to pull the crying child from your arms and take over so you could have a rest. He looked at you with a gentle smile, seeing the exhaustion on your face as he cupped your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing momentarily as his thumb lightly traced over your cheekbone.

“May I?” He asked in a low voice; his hands gesturing to the infant still wailing in your grasp.

“Please do.” You said as you loosened your grip enough to allow Halsin’s hands to slip between yours and pick up the baby. It took a moment, but soon enough the child was lifted from your arms and quickly placed against Halsin’s broad chest.

“Go rest, my heart,” he whispered, “I can take it from here.” You mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ before standing on the tips of your toes to peck the druid on the cheek before retiring for the night.

As much as you would have preferred crawling into your bed, your legs and body were too tired to make the short walk to the bedchambers. Instead, you found yourself almost collapsing onto the couch, flopping onto the cushions with a deep sigh and closed eyes. You felt a pleasant warmth on your cheeks and you opened your eyes briefly to see that Halsin had taken the time to light the fireplace before taking the child from you. You rolled to your side, facing the fire as you curled into yourself for a rest. It wasn’t long before you felt a light blanket be draped over your body and another soft caress to your cheek by Halsin’s gentle hand.

It was still the middle of the night when your eyes reopened from your quick nap. You weren’t sure how long you had managed to close your eyes, but you knew it wasn’t as long as you had wanted. The cries from your child had mostly quieted down by now and in your exhaustion you managed to catch a glimpse of Halsin making his way to the fireplace with the infant still pressed to his chest.  Halsin eased his way into the rocking chair by the softly crackling fireplace, holding the fussy newborn close to his chest. Once he had settled, he shifted the baby to be cradled in the crook of his arm, gently patting their backside with his unoccupied hand. With one leg outstretched, he slowly began to rock the chair, easing the child into a peaceful lull as the cries and whimpers steadily began to soften. You smiled as you watched him rock and admire the small infant in his arms, the hazy glow of the fire reflecting off the swell of tears forming in Halsin’s eyes.

“Nature has created the most perfect of creations with you, my little one,” he whispered, “and has allowed me to cradle your perfection in my arms.” He planted a feather light kiss to their full cheeks as he continued to rock and soothe his beloved child.

From the moment the child was born, Halsin was smitten; shamelessly enthralled with every tiny movement and noise the baby offered. The love and adoration that settled in his eyes each time he gazed upon their angelic face warmed your heart and filled you with flutters. You always knew that Halsin would be a loving father, but to see it with your own eyes was an entirely different feeling. It was something real and tangible, but mostly it was something that made you love him even more. Halsin was gentle giant, holding the infant carefully and with a light touch, but you also knew he would rip though anything that posed a threat to this small child that had him utterly wrapped around their tiny finger. 

Halsin held the infant in front of him, cradling their head and body in his hands as he simply marveled at the gift that had been bestowed upon him. Like he frequently did with you, he pressed his forehead to theirs, closing his eyes and he eased his rocking, simply sitting in silence and stillness as he savored the moment. His smile was wide as he heard more grunts and mewls pass through the lips of the infant he cradled, his eyes opening again to watch them as they did so. Once he pulled away from the baby, he left a long, lingering kiss to the soft skin where his forehead was previously resting. 

Halsin shifted the baby a final time, placing them at the height of his chest before reclining back and resting his own head along the top of the chair with his eyes closed as the rocking resumed. You heard him hum a slow tune softly, something you can’t recall having ever heard from the druid, even during your travels. He continued his song while using his thumb to run small, slow circles along the back of the baby finally sleeping on his chest; the vibrations in his chest seemingly being the thing that finally made them rest. When his humming finally came to an end, Halsin opened his eyes and glanced to you, still expecting you to be asleep. You met each other with wide smiles and you noticed the faintest hint of a blush creep across the druid’s cheeks when he realized he’d been caught in a precious moment. 

“You’re supposed to be resting, my heart.” Halsin whispered to you as he continued to rock. You offered a quick nod as you rolled onto your back. With a deep sigh, you shifted a bit until you were comfortable again, eventually drifting back to sleep to the sound of Halsin picking up the tune once more.

You awoke a final time some time later to the feeling of Halsin’s arms hooking underneath your knees and behind your back, gently lifting you from your spot on the couch to presumably be transferred to bed. He must have already put the child back to bed and was now coming to retrieve you to do the same. You didn’t protest as he lifted you and simply let him care for you in the moment.

“What was the song?” You asked sleepily, your eyes still closed and limbs completely limp in Halsin’s embrace. 

“A parting gift from my mother,” he said as he carried you to the bedchamber, “I can’t say I remember the words all too well, but the tune will suffice for now.”

“It’s lovely.” Your dangling legs swayed gently as Halsin walked the short distance to your bedchambers, noting that he was stepping as quietly as possible to avoid waking that baby that had kept you both awake for some time now.

“I’ll teach it to you one day,” Halsin murmured as he lowered you onto the soft sheets of your bed, “but right now you should sleep. Silvanus knows our little one will be up again in a few hours with a hungry belly.” You simply hummed in response as you drifted on the edge of a peaceful slumber. You reached up and took Halsin by the arm when you felt his weight shift from the bed, lazily pulling him towards you.

“Stay,” you said, “you need rest too, love.” You knew all too well that Halsin had a tendency to overwork himself when he felt an obligation towards something and the last thing either of you needed was for him to have a burnout. And, more selfishly, you found that you slept better with him by your side. Those months he was away while you were still with child were filled with nothing but sleepless nights and a worried mind. You had started sleeping on his side of the bed in his absence just to catch any lingering traces of his scent in the sheets. 

Without another word, you felt the druid slip into bed beside you and you quickly melted into his embrace. Your face was pressed lightly against his chest with your arms folded between your bodies. Halsin slowly rubbed the length of your back with his hand, not quite ready to sleep himself, but was never one to turn down your request for an embrace. Your eyelids became heavy and your breathing began to slow as you finally drifted off to a much needed sleep. You knew that Halsin was right and that your sleeping baby would soon wake and you’d once again be called upon, but for now you simply indulged in a long rest.

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“Hello, my darlings.” You said with a smile as you quickly were overwhelmed with swarming children, all reaching up for a hug of some sort. You watched where you stepped, being careful not to slip on the wet grass and the mud leading to the pond. Halsin stood from where he was crouched by the water, a soft smile greeting you as you made your way over to him. You greeted the remaining children that had stayed by the druid, offering hugs of your own and gentle head pats.

“And hello to you, my love.” You said as you met Halsin with a kiss to the cheek, “What lesson is on the books for today?” Despite Halsin doing his best to simply allow the children of the land to enjoy nature and fill their days with play and laughter, he found himself obligated to teach the children about nature and how to respect the land. Or, in this case, learn new ways to pass the time.

“Skipping stones,” he said as he stood, “the best practices and tricks for finding the perfect stones, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeated, leaning forward to peek inside the bundle strapped to his chest, “and how has your little helper fared?” You pulled back the edge of the cloth, revealing a small, beaming face within the fabric. You grinned widely, leaning in again to place a kiss to the cheek of your child. 

“I do believe they napped the entire time,” Halsin said as he patted the backside of the child, “they’ll have to return for the next lesson.” 

Once your newborn had grown a bit and were a few months old, Halsin started taking them along with him on his day to day activities, already eager to show them the wonders nature had to offer. You often found him surrounded by the other children, eagerly listening to one of his stories or paying close attention to the lesson he offered for the day. But since he started bringing the baby with him, you always found the little one secured to his chest by being wrapped in a sling. Although, by now, they could stand on their own and had even started walking, making them almost too big to be carried around. You knew that soon enough you would no longer wander into the forest and see your child secured to your lover and the thought saddened you, but was quickly replaced by the thrill of know you’d eventually see them toddling behind their father with the utmost enthusiasm. 

You took your child from the sling around Halsin, ready to give him a break and also sneak in your own time for baby snuggles. You were greeted with a hug from a tiny set of arms and you eagerly accepted the affections. With his chest now free, the children saw their opportunity to stop the lesson for the day and switch to playing. It wasn’t long before you heard the numerous pleas for the bear, the children of the land always excited to roughhouse with a looming bear and even sneak in a ride or two in the process. Halsin willfully agreed, quickly transforming into the large cave bear you so greatly adored after erupting from a ball of light. 

While the bear played with the children, you expected to spend a few quiet moments with your not-so-little baby, but you couldn’t help but notice the wide eyed expression on your child’s face. Despite spending a large portion of his time as a bear, Halsin had never been in wild shape while in the presence of the child, for fear that such a large beast would frighten such a tiny baby. But now as the bear stood only a few meters away, there was nothing but awe and a bit of curiosity behind their eyes. It wasn’t long before they became fussy in your arms, their desire to inspect the bear further becoming obvious. It took considerable effort on your part to keep the child seated to prevent from them toddling into the group.

When the children dispersed for the afternoon, thoroughly tired from both learning and play, you approached Halsin before he could wild shape back into his usual elven form. Given the excitement shown by your little one, you decided that now would probably be a good time to introduce them to the large cave bear. You knelt to one knee, setting your child on the other as the bear approached, crouching himself to give the child a better reach. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but soon enough the child had lunged forward and had taken fistfuls of fur.

“Gently now, little one,” you said as you held the child in your arms, “gentle hands with the bear.” You had to coax their small hand to release the clump of fur they’d latched onto. You were thankful that even in bear form, Halsin had nothing but patience for the child. Halsin released a low grunt, something you could only attribute to being his best attempt at a chuckle. You were still kicking yourself for not learning how to communicate with beasts without the aid of a potion.

The bear let out a large huff, the puff of air coming from their nostrils blowing against the child’s face. They erupted in giggles, evidently enjoying the sensation. You laughed with the child, relief washing over you as you soon realized that they weren’t fearful of the looming size of their cave bear of a father, although you made a note to keep an eye on them as they got older. The last thing you wanted was your little one to become too comfortable with the wild creatures surrounding the forest and winding up petting the wrong bear. That could wait for the moment, however. 

Tiny hands returned to the snout of the bear once again, this time with a much gentler grasp. They ran their fingers through the coarse fur, lightly scratching at the skin underneath. You sat the child to the ground when they began to bounce in your lap, more than ready to be let free and play with their new-found bear. They stood on slightly wobbly legs, finding it difficult to find footing on the uneven ground, but eventually managed to stand unassisted. You watched as they stared at the bear with curiosity and adoration, smiling as they observed the bear. Halsin brought his snout to the child’s head, taking in their scent while also tickling them with the movement of a cold, wet nose.

“Papa.” Tiny words spoken from an even tinier person stopped you and the bear in your spots, utterly surprised at the first word spoken by your child.

“What did you say, little one?” You asked, still surprised they had spoken at all.

“Papa.” They repeated, their smiling beaming up at the equally surprised bear. Halsin nuzzled his forehead against the child, the sheer size of his head almost being enough to push them over, but you supported them with a hand to their back. Your little one nuzzled back, forehead running along any bit of fur they could find. You were beginning to wonder if the frequent forehead bumps you shared with Halsin were more elven in nature or more ursine. Either way, you adored them and it appeared that your child would be doing them frequently as well.

“I do believe we’ve found your new name, my love.” You said as the child continued to rub their head against the bear. You found ‘Papa’ to be quite the fitting name for Halsin. ‘Father’ seemed to be too formal and the adopted children of the land already claimed ‘Daddy Halsin’. Now you were curious as to what your child would end up calling you.

A splash in the pond behind the bear caught the attention of the child, who toddled to the side as easily as they could to see what caused the disturbance. Moments later, a fish jumped from under the water to snap at a passing bug, flipping in the air before splashing back into the cool water. Before you could put together what was happening, the little one darted for the water line, fascinated by the display in front of them.

Their escape for short lived, however. Your bear of a druid caught them before they could even step a tiny foot on the shore, latching his teeth onto the back of their tunic and hoisting them into the air as he stood. Once again, the child erupted in a series of giggles as they were suspended in the air, letting their legs swing freely. The cave bear gave a grunt before walking from the shore, still carrying the child in his jaws as he meandered towards the shade of a large oak for a nap.

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Your eyes opened to the sound of small, bare feet quickly running towards your bed chamber. Moments later, the door to the room opened just slightly, wide enough for your little one to sneak their way inside. The sun had not yet risen, although dawn was fast approaching, and as usual, your child had managed to wake before you or even Halsin. You heard the faintest of giggles and shuffling of feet the child made their way to the foot of the bed, not so elegantly wiggling their way under the blankets of the bed before hoisting themselves onto the plush mattress. You watched silently as the lump that was still giggling at your feet blindly worked their way up, bumping between Halsin’s legs and your own.

After a short while, your little one poked their head out from the covers, hair full of static and a beaming smile on their face. Initially, their gaze settled on their father, but seeing that the druid was sleeping heavily, they turned their attention to you. Without a bit of hesitation, your child practically fell into you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a muffled giggle. You wrapped your arms around their wiggling body, finally getting them to settle into your embrace.

“Good morning, little one.” You whispered before giving them a soft kiss to the cheek. You smoothed their hair back along their head, revealing their pretty little face and pointed ears to your view.

“Outside?” They whispered excitedly, their eyes beaming with anticipation. You chuckled to yourself as you tucked a lock of hair behind their ear.

“Soon, my little love. Once the sun is up.” You had never imagined that you could meet someone more enthusiastic about nature and being in the outside world, but that person was now nestled securely in your arms. You couldn’t recall a single day that had passed where you little one wasn’t jumping at the idea of being out in nature; much like their father. You missed the days when they were a newborn and were content to simply sleep against your chest most of the day, but you couldn’t deny that you loved seeing their excitement and enthusiasm for each new day.

The child settled down once again, playing with the tassels to your sleep shirt as they impatiently waited for the first trickles of sunlight to come into the room. You silently admired your little one as they twisted and pulled at the tassels, simply taking in their features as you held them against you. They had certainly taken after their father in more ways than one. When you looked into your child’s eyes, you saw Halsin. They shared the same eye color, but also had the same tenderness and adoration for others that you found captivating. The same shade of chestnut brown hair sprouted for their head and had grown long enough to even have braids similar to Halsin’s. And of course the points to their ears, which happened to be your favorite feature, even held the same shape of the druid. 

It wasn’t long before the sun began to crest the horizon and illuminate your bedchamber in a soft glow. Halsin stirred beside you, a sound similar to a growl coming from his chest as he shifted. The arm that was tucked underneath his head emerged, reaching across the bed to blindly search for you. You heard a small, excited gasp come from the child in your arms when they realized that not only was the sun up, but Halsin was close to finally waking up for the day. Without a moment of hesitation, they quickly crawled out of your arms and towards their father, trying to suppress giggles in the process.

“Papa,” the child whispered as they tapped tiny fingers against his face in an attempt to wake him fully, “Papa!” Halsin’s eyes opened after a few abrupt smacks to his face, blinking away the surprise before his eyes finally settled on the overly excited toddler that was kneeling before him. 

“Yes, my heart?” He asked groggily. Halsin placed a large hand on the side of their small head, leaning forward slightly to bump his forehead against theirs before return back to his pillow

“Outside? Please?” They begged, practically vibrating in place as they eagerly awaited permission.

“Of course, love.” With an excited squeal, you watched as you child stood to bounce in place for a moment before crawling over Halsin, who grunted after receiving a few solid steps to the ribs. You heard small feet land on the wooden floors with a thud before excitedly scampering back towards the door.  The fast paced footsteps of the child running from the bedchamber towards their own quickly quieted down and you were allowed a quiet moment with your lover. 

“Were you so eager as a child?” You asked as you propped yourself up on your elbow, reaching over to run your hands through Halsin’s hair to work out the evidence of sleep.

“It’s like looking in a mirror.” Halsin said as he placed his hand over yours, kissing your palm as your hand trailed down his cheek, “Although, they’re much more polite about it than I was. I almost gave my poor mother a heart attack one morning when she found that I’d climbed the tallest tree in the region without a way down.”

“I can imagine why.” You leaned forward as you spoke, indulging in a good morning kiss with your love before getting started for the day. Halsin smiled against your lips, always happy to feel your lips against his. It wasn’t long before you felt him deepen the kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip and pulling you towards him with a satisfied growl. The union was short lived, however, when you heard the pitter-patter of footsteps coming back towards your bedchamber.

“Outside, Papa! Outside!” Your little one stomped into the room once again, clearly unsatisfied at the fact that neither of you had gotten out of bed yet. There was an entire world to explore outside the confines of your small home, and your wild spirited child was determined to make the most of it.

“We’re coming, my heart,” Halsin said with a chuckle, “we’re coming.” The druid rolled to his opposite side and eventually out of the bed, allowing himself a quick stretch before scooping the impatient child into his arms to carry them. 

You followed suit, flinging the blanket from your legs and sitting up on the edge of your warm bed. You hesitated briefly, stopping to take a slow breath in and out as you bit down the bile sitting high in your throat. You had been ill late into the evening; the remaining burn from your wrenching still caught in your windpipe. By the time you were finally well enough to get up and joined with Halsin in the doorway, you noticed the all too familiar look of concern beginning to settle on Halsin’s face, deepening the frown lines on his forehead in the process. He gently tilted your chin to meet his gaze with the side of his forefinger, giving you a quick glance over.

“Just a bit of indigestion, my love. Nothing to worry about.” You reassured him with a soft kiss to the finger holding your chin and a gentle squeeze of the hand. As hard as you tried to unburden your dear druid, you knew he would always fret over the smallest signs of something wrong or ill about you and your shared child. Although you weren’t sure if it was just the natural healer in him or if it was his natural need to keep those closest to him safe; perhaps it was both.

While Halsin busied himself with dressing both himself and his high energy child for the day, you took a moment to prepare a basket, the idea of a picnic sounding wonderful. In a small wicker basket, you gathered a blanket and a bit of water along with Halsin’s whittling knife and a book on knitting for yourself. Food could be picked up as you passed the market, but you had your mind set on plucking fresh fruit from a particular tree in the section of forest you’d be traveling to. With your supplies secured neatly under the blanket, you slung the basket onto your arm as your small family emerged dressed for the day, minus a pair of shoes for the child eagerly waiting at the door.  

You walked hand in hand with Halsin as you strolled town, your little one bounding ahead of you only to stop on occasion and wait for you to catch up. The child bounced in their spot, impatiently awaiting the moment they could step into the forest, but knew better than to run too fear ahead. As you strolled, you couldn’t help but admire the home that was flourishing before you. What as once nothing but shadows ridden lands only a handful of years ago was now a brightly illuminated beacon of hope and sanctuary where nature flourished while still yielding to the needs of a small community; the balance Halsin had always dreamed of achieving had come to fruition. It filled you with a warm comfort that you could raise a child in a place that was not only safe and thriving, but to raise them with someone so full of love for the child that it was almost overwhelming. You and the child you shared were everything to Halsin.

It wasn’t long before you finally reached the edge of town that led to a familiar patch of forest. With a quick glance to you and Halsin for a sign of approval, your child waited along the threshold of the forest, a wide smile spread across their lips. Halsin gave a simple nod and before you knew it, the little one was bounding full force into the grass. You could hear the symphony of giggles of laughs bounce around you, causing you chest to flutter at the wondrous sound of happiness from your little one.

“I don’t think I could name a sweeter sound.” You said softly, leaning into Halsin’s embrace as you stopped to watch the toddler dart across the field with their arms outstretched.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that, my heart.” Halsin said as he released the grip on your hand and slid his arm along your side before settling along your hip. You shot him a quizzical look, your eyebrow raising slightly as you watched a sly grin creep across his lips, “You certainly make many sweet, beautiful sounds when we’re alone.” 

Just as you turn to playfully scold Halsin for the remark, your child jumped from behind a nearby tree, small teeth bared with an even smaller growl and hands raised with curled fingers to imitate claws. Given that they weren’t quite old enough to wild shape into a bear themselves and adored their father even more when he was transfigured into ursine form, you often found the little one imitating a bear as they played. Halsin released his grip on you and joined in on the game, mimicking the child’s stance with a hunched back and a smile that kept breaking the appearance of bared teeth. You watched as he ever so slowly stalked towards the cub, flexing his fingers to signal he was ready to pounce. 

Before Halsin could make the first move, the child darted off with a laugh, running as fast as their little legs could carry them as Halsin followed in pursuit. You happily watched as your love chased your cub through the grass and flowers of the forest, listening to the laughs and growls coming from them both. As they made their way across the field, too engrossed in their game to notice your absence, you took the time to slink away to collect the fruit you’d had your mind on for days now. With your basket still in hand, you wandered among the trees until you found one that was all too familiar. 

The plum tree you’d almost picked clean the night you discovered you were with child stood before you, its limbs heavy with new fruit ripe for the plucking. You bit your lip in anticipation as you swiftly hoisted yourself onto the lower branches, selecting the ripest of plums from their stems and placed them in your basket. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you picked supple fruits from the tree; a low growl settling in your stomach as you chose which ones to take and which ones to leave. Once you’d nearly filled the basket with your prize fruit, you made your way back down and rejoined your small family across the way.

By the time you’d returned, Halsin had finally caught the little one, scooping them up mid stride and lifted them high above his head. Giddy laughs erupted from the child as they were caught, their face flushed from exertion. He tossed the child into the air just a bit, catching them in a firm grasp and being rewarded with a louder laugh each time they landed in their father’s hands. After a few tosses, Halsin held them in his grasp, holding them with one arm as he used his free hand to swipe stray hair from their eyes. 

“What have you got there, my love?” Halsin asked as he eyed your now full basket of fruit.

“Breakfast.” You replied simply, holding your basket on your arm once again. 

You removed your blanket from your basket, being careful not to spill the dozens of plums you’d plucked from the tree, and spread it out at the base of a shady oak nearby. Sometime between being picked up by Halsin and you having the blanket fully spread out, your little one had fallen asleep in Halsin’s arms, their head resting on his shoulder. From rising early to running to their hearts content, they had managed to tire out rather quickly. You and Halsin took turns placing a soft kiss to their small cheeks before the druid placed them gently on the blanket, making sure they were resting in the coolness shade instead of the direct spot of the sun. 

It wasn’t long before you were both settled on the blanket, your backs resting along the tree you sat under, your child sleeping peacefully by your feet. You dug through the remaining contents of the basket you brought, handing Halsin his whittling materials and you grabbed your book. You also picked up one of the plums you’d picked earlier, giving it a long sniff before sinking your teeth into the plump flesh. You gave a satisfied sigh as you cracked the book open to the beginning. As you began reading, you kept yourself supplied with your freshly picked fruit, reaching into your basket for a new one with each plum you finished. Before long, you’d quickly amassed a pile of plum pits by your side.

“You’ve decided to give knitting another try, have you?” Halsin asked as you settled against him, your eyes fixed on the book in your hand. After the disastrous sweater you’d attempted to make when you were still with child, you were discouraged enough to not pick up your set of knitting needles again and had simply asked a few of the older women in town to make you a few outfits for your newborn. But that was a few years past now and you had a new desire to try your hand at it again.

“May as well,” you said as you turned the page, “after all, what kind of savior would I be if I let a ball of yard be my undoing.” Halsin chuckled at your response, always finding your stubbornness peeking through. He managed to obtain a few plums from your pile, finding you almost hesitant to relinquish your find.

You sat in silence as your child napped by your feet in the morning sun, simply enjoying each others company and the calmness to the morning. Halsin whittled away at a branch he had found at the base of the tree, turning the piece over and over between his fingers as he worked out just what to carve. 

A light breeze swept across the field, lazily rolling across the pages of your book and obstructing your view as they fluttered in the wind. You had just smoothed them back and found your place in the wording when you felt Halsin’s fingers lightly grip your jaw, turning your head until you could no longer see the pages of your book, your head tilted away and upwards with the side of your neck exposed to him. You had expected languid kisses or even a few bites, but instead you were met with his nose pressed in the small dip behind your earlobe. You giggled and squirmed against his grasp, the feeling of air leaving his nostrils tickled the sensitive skin of your neck as he took in your scent. 

“Something on your mind?” You asked between laughs, being mindful not to nudge your sleeping child awake with a stray leg kick.

“I caught your scent in the wind,” he said as he pulled away from your neck, keeping his touch on your jaw, “it’s harder to smell when not in ursine form, but it’s…” His voice trailed off when his eyes caught your expression.

“Yes, my love?” You asked with a playful smile as Halsin’s eyes darted between you, your book, and your basket of plums. It was evident he had something on his mind, he just wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. The faintest traces of a smirk toyed with the corner of his lip, his mind turning over and over at it worked with the information now in his hands.

“It’s nothing,” he said eventually, “although, I can’t help but notice that you’ve regained your taste for plums, my heart.” After having more than your fill of plums with your pregnancy, you had hardly touched the fruit since. You’d indulge in the occasional one here and there, but you certainly hadn’t eaten an entire basket full in quite some time. Although that had changed as of late; your desire for the sweet fruit growing more and more persistent as each day passed.

“It seems I have.” You said playfully as you closed your book, rolling your head to the side to meet his gaze, “It’s quite a peculiar craving, is it not?”

“Would you go so far as to say its…an insatiable craving?” Halsin ran his thumb softly against your lower lip, eagerly awaiting your response. You could faintly see his heart beating in his neck, the steady thrum picking up speed the longer he waited for an answer. He was certainly excited for whatever game you were playing.

“I believe that’s an excellent way to word it. Insatiable.” Halsin huffed a laugh, his lips finally curling into a smile as he pulled your chin closer towards him.

“What other little oddities have you been keeping from me then, my love?” Halsin captured your lips with his, kissing you deeply before speaking again, “I’m beginning to think it wasn’t merely a bit of indigestion this morning.” You smiled against his lips, thoroughly enthused that the pieces were beginning to click into place for him.

“I was wondering when you’d catch on.” You murmured softly, your words echoing what Halsin himself had told you the night you first discovered you were with child.

“By Silvanus’ beard,” Halsin said breathlessly, “are you really?” You simply nodded in response, your smile beaming wider. 

You had suspected that you were with child for quite some time now, given that you had almost all of the symptoms from your previous pregnancy begin to pop up in the past few weeks, but you had wanted to wait for the passing of the most recent lunar cycle to be sure. And as you had expected, the full moon had come and gone and was on the verge of returning once again and you had yet to start a bleeding cycle. So, without a bit of doubt, you were in the beginning stages of a second pregnancy.

“How long have you known?” Halsin asked as took the book from your hands, tossing it to the side and out of the way.

“I’ve suspected for some time,” you said quietly, “I wanted to wait for this most recent moon cycle to pass to be sure.”

“You truly are extraordinary, my heart.” Halsin pulled you into his embrace, your head resting on his shoulder.

Your little one stirred at your feet, groggily waking up with a stretch. With messy hair and eyes still half closed, they quickly crawled towards you both, snuggling between you and Halsin with their head resting in your lap and legs thrown over Halsin’s. It wasn’t long before they were asleep again, evidently just wanting to be part of the embrace of their parents. You smoothed their hair with a soft smile as you settled in against Halsin. His large arms were wrapped securely around you, holding you close as you felt one of his hands drift to your belly and the familiar touch of his forehead to yours. You sat there in a happy silence, entangled in one another, listening to the sounds of the forest and in the warmth of the sun. 

Tag List: @incrediblethirst @reignydeys @thoughts-of-bear @im-eating-rn @beardedladyqueen @simplysaying @emorylovescats @distelsterncat @cryingoverpixelsetc @knightofmight01 @seawingqueenconch @moonlightdruid

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 16 - The Past Is The Eternal Past

Summary: Kate and Arthur welcome a new life into the world. The scene brings back tender memories of Arthur's past, he finally finds the courage to open up to her about his family.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: So much fluff and feels!! This is day 2 at Emerald ranch, solid 8.3k words. Thanks for being patient with my updates, I know things have started to slow down. I'm hoping that in a few weeks I'll be able to get back to consistently posting again!

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Arthur drifted into a peaceful slumber, a rarity in the tumult of his existence. It felt as if he had never experienced such peace before, as if the world had paused just for him. Seamus' small ranch house offered no spare room, yet Kate, with her selfless nature, offered to sleep on the couch for Arthur's comfort. But he politely refused, urging her to share the bed with him, a sanctuary meant for two souls to find sleep in each other's embrace.

As they kissed and conversed late into the evening, the storm outside began to wane, its fury subdued by the soothing melody of raindrops dancing upon the roof. Their words mingled with the gentle winds, weaving a blanket of intimacy that cocooned them in warmth. Wrapped in each other's arms, Kate held him close, her embrace a shield against the uncertainties of the night. With his head nestled beneath her chin, Arthur found refuge in her presence, his breathing synchronizing with the rhythm of her heart. And as sleep finally claimed him, she tenderly caressed his hair, her melodic hums blending seamlessly with the whispering wind and the gentle creaks of the old house. The smell of the bath still lingered on his skin, and she could hear his gentle snore, soon Kate found herself slipping into deep sleep.

As the morning sun filtered through the mesh curtains, casting a golden glow into the room, Kate stirred from her slumber. The distant call of roosters heralded the arrival of dawn, their voices resonating loudly in the air. Yet, despite the warmth of the sunlight, a chill swept over her as she realized the space beside her was empty, void of Arthur's presence.

With a languid stretch, Kate rose from the bed, her movements fluid as she dressed herself. She resolved to seek out Arthur, knowing well his penchant for being useful and tackling the early morning chores. She savored a quick breakfast, the aroma of freshly cut strawberries mingling with the crisp morning air, before setting off on her search.

Her footsteps echoed softly in the quietude of the barn, the scent of hay and animals enveloping her in familiarity. And there, amidst the rustic charm of the wooden beams and the soft whinnies of the horses, she found him, just as she had anticipated. But what captured her attention was the tender scene unfolding before her.

Arthur stood beside Dolly, the massive mare, his presence calm and assured. He gently coaxed her to eat from his hand, his other hand gliding smoothly down her snout and neck in a gesture of reassurance. The sunlight streaming through the barn’s wooden slats highlighted the tender scene, casting a warm glow on their interaction. Arthur's voice was a soft murmur, whispering soothing words to the horse, his touch both gentle and firm, embodying a patient strength.

Kate watched in awe, her heart swelling with admiration for Arthur’s ability to connect with the mare. Every movement he made was deliberate, a testament to his respect for the animal. The way Dolly responded, bowing her head and accepting his touch, spoke volumes of the trust he had earned.

A soft smile played on Kate's lips as Dolly greeted her with a friendly nicker, the mare's ears acknowledging her presence with a flick. “Good morning,” Kate called to them, her voice breaking the serene silence of the barn. “Seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you.” She stepped into the stall, her gaze fixed on Arthur.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,�� Arthur greeted her, enveloping her in a warm embrace as he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a lingering peck on her lips. They tasted like his morning coffee. His touch was filled with affection, and Kate blushed, the warmth spreading from her cheeks to her chest—a sensation she was still getting used to.

Kate leaned into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as she stretched up to meet him. “Was a tad surprised I woke to an empty bed this mornin’,” she whispered teasingly, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. Tipping his hat back slightly to give herself better access to his features.

Arthur grinned at her insinuation, his deep blue eyes filled with admiration. “I’d love nothin’ more than to lay in all day kissin’ a pretty lady,” he said in a low, tender voice. With a soft sigh, he added, “But there’s work to be done. ‘Sides, I think Miss Dolly here is havin’ her baby today.”

Kate’s brows shot up in surprise, and she turned from his arms to evaluate Dolly’s condition. Sure enough, the mare was showing early signs of labor. Her belly contracted softly, and milk leaked from her teats. “Well, I’ll be,” she said quietly, a smile spreading across her cheeks as she rubbed the mare's belly affectionately. “You ever delivered a foal before, Arthur?”

Arthur’s grin widened, a mix of excitement and apprehension in his eyes. “Can’t say I have, but I reckon there’s a first time for everything,” he replied, rolling up his sleeves. “Guess I’m in for a lesson today.”

Kate chuckled softly, her hand still gently rubbing Dolly’s belly. “I’ve done it a few times, long ago back on my family’s farm. We just need to keep her calm and be ready to help when the time comes.”

Arthur nodded, his expression serious yet eager. “I’ll follow your lead, then.”

The two of them worked quietly together, their actions synchronized as if they had been doing this together for years. They took turns feeding the other barn animals their breakfast, ensuring they had fresh water and clean stalls. The morning was filled with the soft sounds of munching hay, clucking chickens, and the occasional grunt from the pigs as they discovered fresh mud puddles left by the storm.

Periodically, they checked on Dolly’s progress, making sure she was comfortable as her labor advanced. Each time Arthur approached the mare, he spoke to her in soothing tones, his hands gentle and warm. Kate watched him with admiration, her heart swelling with affection for this man who had become her partner.

They exchanged smiles and glances as they worked, falling into a rhythm that felt as natural as the breeze blowing around them. The storm had left the grasses glistening with dew, the air fresh and crisp. Sunlight filtered through the barn’s open doors, casting warm, golden patches on the ground.

As the afternoon approached, they sat together on a wooden crate outside of Dolly’s stall, sharing a simple meal of bread, cheese, and apples. The air was filled with the scent of fresh hay and the earthy aroma of the barn. Kate leaned back against the barn, her eyes half-closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face.

“This feels good,” Kate said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. “Sittin’ here with you, takin’ care of things. Feels right, don’t it?”

Arthur turned to her, his smile soft and genuine. “Makes me wish we could do this every day,” he chuckled, taking a bite of his apple.

Kate could hear the subtle longing in his tone. Arthur craved a simple life, yearning for it amidst the chaos of his existence. His situation was unique, tangled in a web of crime and infamy that made it impossible to simply run away and start anew. He was wanted in every state, raised on a life of crime and rebellion. Kate knew it wouldn't be easy to break him from that cycle, but she hoped this was a start. Sowing the seeds of domesticity and honest living into his heart, she dared to dream that one day he might leave the gang and take the reins of his own life.

Arthur gazed out over the plains, watching the horses and cows grazing peacefully. The sight seemed to soothe him, the simplicity of the scene a stark contrast to the life he led. Kate watched him, admiring the way his side profile was illuminated in the afternoon glow. The sun cast a warm, golden light on his rugged features, highlighting the sweat glistening on his cheeks. His eyes, shadowed by the brim of his old leather hat, were filled with a longing.

Kate let her thoughts drift, imagining a life where they could find peace together. She envisioned a small farm, nestled in a quiet valley, where they could wake up each morning to the sound of birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves. She pictured Arthur working the fields, taking care of the animals and while she maintained their home. Daring to dream of a family again, perhaps even children someday, she thought. She shook her head at the idea, getting ahead of herself. But in the back of her mind, they lived a life of simple pleasures.

Kate reached out and placed her hand on Arthur’s arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. “Maybe one day, we will,” she said softly.

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The sun was kissing the horizon as Dolly eased herself down into the soft hay, finding a comfortable spot to lie on her side as her instincts took over. The mare's heavy breaths mingled with the sounds of the barn, creating an atmosphere of anticipation and gentle urgency. Kate and Arthur remained close by, their presence a comforting reassurance for the laboring mare.

Kate settled near Dolly's head, her fingers moving soothingly along the mare's neck. She whispered calming words, her touch gentle, ensuring Dolly felt secure. The warmth of the barn and the scent of fresh hay enveloped them, creating a cocoon of calm amidst the imminent arrival.

Arthur leaned against the wall of the stable near Dolly's rear, his eyes focused and attentive. Ready to inform Kate the moment the foal's feet appeared, he prepared himself to leap into action when Dolly showed signs of struggle. The tension in the air was thick, a mixture of concern and excitement as they awaited the new life about to enter the world.

Kate’s voice, calm and steady, broke through the quiet hum of the barn. “When the foal’s legs are out past the first joint, grab hold and tug gently,” she instructed. “But only when Dolly pushes. We don’t want to hurt her or cause any tears. Just enough to help the baby along.”

Arthur nodded, leaning down on one knee, his hands steady and ready, heart pounding with anticipation. He admired Kate’s calm authority, her knowledge and experience guiding them through the moment. His respect for her deepened.

A memory crossed Arthur’s mind, transporting him back four years ago to when Abigail had gone into labor with Jack. The scene was etched vividly in his heart. Arthur knew he could never make up for missing the birth of his own son, so when little Jack came along, he resolved to support Abigail in every way he could. John’s refusal to accept the child as his own infuriated Arthur. It angered him that John wouldn't even step in to help Abigail in her time of need.

He recalled how the girls had spoken softly and encouragingly to Abigail, their voices a lifeline amidst the pain. It was much like how Kate now spoke to Dolly, a soothing murmur that went beyond species, connecting mother to mother. The memory of Abigail’s grip on his hands, fierce and unyielding with each contraction, came flooding back. Arthur had known then that Abigail was far stronger than she ever let on. Her cries and grunts had filled the night, and Arthur had been there, wiping the sweat from her brow, rubbing her back and even holding back her legs when exhaustion threatened to consume her. It was an experience that solidified his connection to the girls, he was and always will be their protector. 

A profound guilt gnawed at him when he thought about what Eliza must have gone through, alone. The thought of her enduring the pain of childbirth without him there to support her was a wound that never fully healed. But that feeling had been momentarily washed away the moment Jack took his first breath, followed by a triumphant cry as if announcing, “here I am, world!”

Arthur remembered the overwhelming rush of emotions that had washed over him as he left the tent to give the new mother some privacy, but also to hide his empathy. Silent tears had flowed freely, a mixture of joy for Jack’s healthy birth and sorrow for the child he had forsaken.

The minutes stretched on, each one filled with the soft sounds of Dolly’s labor and the reassuring presence of her human companions. The barn was a world unto itself, a sanctuary where the outside ceased to exist. It was just them, Dolly, and the new life beginning to make its entrance.

As Dolly pushed, Arthur saw the tiny hooves begin to emerge. “Kate, I see them,” he called softly, his voice laced with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Kate moved slightly, her focus sharpening. “Alright, Arthur. Remember, only when she pushes.”

With careful precision, Arthur followed Kate’s instructions, his hands grasping the foal’s legs gently. He waited for Dolly’s next contraction, feeling the tension in the air heighten. When the mare strained, he pulled gently, his movements synchronized with her efforts. The foal's legs felt incredibly tiny and fragile in his hands.

Time seemed to slow as they worked together, a seamless dance of trust and cooperation. Dolly’s powerful contractions and Arthur’s careful assistance brought the foal further into the world with every moment. Kate continued her soothing ministrations, her voice a constant source of comfort for the laboring mare. She guided Arthur through her contractions, telling him when to stop pulling and when to grab further up the body as it slowly came into the light. 

Finally, with a final, triumphant push, the foal slid free, landing in the soft hay. Steam rising from its warm wet body as it blinked its large blue eyes for the first time. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as he marveled at the tiny, fragile creature now lying before them. Kate moved quickly, joining beside Arthur as her hands helped clear the foal’s airways and stimulated its breathing.

Dolly turned her head, her large eyes filled with maternal instinct and curiosity. Kate guided the foal closer to her, ensuring the bond between mother and baby was immediate and strong. The foal, a beautiful chestnut brown with a black mane and light blue eyes, shared the distinctive white stripe down his snout with his mama. As he nuzzled against Dolly, searching for his first meal, Kate and Arthur exchanged a glance filled with shared joy and pride.

Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the tender scene before them. Wiping his dirty hands on his jeans, he sank back down into the hay, releasing a satisfied exhale. “I reckon he’s gonna be a fine young colt someday,” he said with a smile. “We’ll have to come visit him when he’s older.”

Kate giggled softly and slid down to sit by his side, their arms brushing together. She leaned her head gently on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. “Oh absolutely,” she agreed, her voice filled with affection. “You wanna name him?”

“Me?” Arthur’s voice raised with a hint of surprise.

“Well, you are the one who delivered him,” Kate assured, her eyes twinkling with encouragement.

Arthur thought for a moment, his mind wandered to the nights he spent recovering, when the fever ravaged his body. He recalled the night Jack had read to him, a story of adventure and friendship that had brought him comfort during those long, painful nights. A smile crept onto his lips as the perfect name called to him. “How ‘bout Huckleberry?” he suggested, his voice soft and thoughtful.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “Huckleberry,” she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. “I love it. It suits the little guy.” She grinned from ear to ear, memories of Jack’s kindness during Arthur’s time of need made her heart surge with warmth. Especially since Arthur remembered the moment too.

Arthur’s smile widened, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. “Good ol’ Huck,” he said, wrapping an arm around Kate. They watched the little foal as he suckled contentedly. His tiny black tail swishing reverently. “He’s gonna be a brave one, ‘specially if he takes after his ma.” He chuckled.

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As evening settled upon Emerald Ranch, the golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky, casting a gentle glow over the fields and buildings. The ranch was tranquil, the storm's remnants now only a memory. Kate and Arthur worked side by side, diligently completing the day's chores to ensure everything was in proper order for Seamus and his family’s return the following morning.

They mucked out the stalls together, the sounds of their shovels mixing with the soft murmurs of the animals. Arthur's returning strength and Kate's efficiency made the work go quickly, their coordination spoke volumes of their growing bond. They fed the animals, the barn filling with contented munching and occasional snorts. The simple tasks brought a sense of normalcy and domesticity. Kate hummed a tune and Arthur whistled quietly as the two worked together. 

With the chores done, they found themselves back in Dolly’s stall, the heart of their day’s labor. The soft light from the lanterns cast a warm glow on the new family, highlighting the tender scene before them. Dolly lay in the hay, her eyes half-closed in contentment as she watched over her newborn foal. Huckleberry, the beautiful chestnut filly with his striking blue eyes, was beginning to explore his surroundings. Sniffing about and attempting to stand on his skinny legs.

Kate and Arthur settled down in the hay once more, their shoulders touching as they sat close together. The warmth of Arthur's body was comforting against the coolness of the night. Kate leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the foal with shared anticipation. 

“Look at him,” Kate whispered, her voice filled with awe. “He’s so full of life.”

Arthur hummed quietly in agreement, his hand resting gently on Kate’s thigh. His thumb traced lazy, comforting patterns over the fabric, grounding him as he watched the tender scene before him. Huckleberry wobbled, his little knees buckling under the weight as he adjusted to standing on solid ground for the first time.

With a gentle nudge from Dolly, the foal stood up proudly, his legs straightening as his mother’s large snout supported him. Kate held her breath, her eyes filled with hope and encouragement. When Huckleberry took his first tentative steps, only to plop back into the hay with a soft grunt, she chuckled warmly. “Keep tryin’, Huck, you’ll get there,” she quietly encouraged.

Arthur was transported to another time, another life. He thought of Isaac and the milestones he had missed. Eliza had been kind enough to write to him about their son's progress, telling him how Isaac had taken his first steps and would soon be running around the house. She had always ended her letters with a plea for Arthur to visit them, to stay. Her hope and prayers that he might one day choose to abandon his life of crime weighed heavily on him now, adding to the regret that he carried.

The tenderness of the moment with Kate and the foal stirred something deep within him. He felt an overwhelming need to share his burdens with the one person he felt truly understood him. Perhaps Hosea’s words held some truth. Kate had remained by his side through the worst, and this moment felt right. 

Arthur’s heart pounded relentlessly in his chest as he mustered the strength. “Kate,” he began softly, shifting his position so he could look her in the eye. “I had a son.”

Kate’s eyes widened slightly in shock at the sudden news. Arthur drew a shaky breath and continued, “He passed away, long time ago.”

Kate gently took his hand, her expression shifted to one of deep sympathy and understanding “Oh Arthur, I’m so sorry for your loss.” She was inclined to believe there was more to this outlaw than meets the eye, his gentle and reserved nature foreshadowing a past similar to her own. The loss of a child connected them in ways she could not have imagined, and her heart ached for the man she was only beginning to discover.

“I know I shoulda told ya sooner. It’s just—” he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “It’s just hard to talk about them sometimes.”

Kate nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “You told me when you felt it was right, Arthur. I know it’s probably been on your mind now for some time.” She thought of all the times she had talked about her daughter with him, knowing now that he must’ve been thinking of his own child in those moments. Unsure how to tell her of his own loss, she knew it must've scarred him deeply. Arthur nodded quietly.

Understanding washed over her, and she suddenly grasped the depth of the bond between Arthur and Jack. Abigail trusted Arthur with her son because he once had a son, and he had extended that parental love to his nephew. He sees his son in Jack, and Kate knew from their first interaction that he had a protective aura that only a father could provide.

“That must have been very hard for you and Mary,” she continued softly, moving her hand to his cheek. Her touch was warm and soft, it eased his wounded heart.

Arthur leaned into her touch, closing his eyes with a sigh. He knew he couldn't talk about Isaac without mentioning Eliza. “No, he wasn’t Mary’s kid,” he began, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “It was a different girl. Met her in a bar one night, and next thing you know...” He shrugged his shoulders, he knew it was taboo to have a child with a one-night stand but Kate made no judgment. “But she passed away too.”

“What are their names?” Kate asked gently, surprising Arthur with her question. She didn’t ask how they died, and he was grateful. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to relive that part of his past yet. Talking about them as if they were still around eased his heart.

“Eliza and Isaac,” Arthur breathed the names like a prayer on his lips. “I don’t much like talkin’ about them. The grief, I still don’t understand it. Even after all these years.” His voice was thick with emotion, the weight of his loss pressing down on him like a heavy shroud.

Kate nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. “Grief ain’t meant to be understood,” she said softly. “It’s meant to be felt, lived through, and carried with us. It shapes us, but it doesn’t have to define us.”

Arthur chuckled dryly, a bitter edge to his laughter. “Wish I had that wisdom sooner. Their deaths hardened me, turned me into a man I couldn’t recognize.” His gaze drifted away from her, shame creeping into his belly as memories of his drinking and fits of rage swam back to the surface. He remembered the nights he spent at the bottom of a bottle, trying to drown out the pain, and the mornings he woke up with fists clenched, ready to fight the world.

Kate’s light laughter pulled him from his dark thoughts, like a soothing melody. “Death hardened me too. I mean, take one look and tell me. Do I still look like a picturesque housewife to you? Certainly not.” She chuckled, a sound so full of life and resilience it made Arthur’s heart ache. It mattered not how proper she looked to the rest of the world, to him she was just perfect. 

“I miss my family dearly, but nothin’ I do will bring ‘em back. So I just keep movin’ forward, trying to do right by them, be a good person for their sake,” she added, a small reassuring smile spreading across her lips. “But you know, it wasn't always like that,” her eyes glimmered with a mix of sorrow and conviction, the strength of a woman who had faced unimaginable loss and emerged stronger for it.

Arthur was in awe of the way she could talk about death and grief, turning it into something positive. To take the torment and break it like a bad horse, polishing it down to what it really was: love. His grief and regret may have looked ugly on the surface, but beneath it all, it was an overwhelming love with nowhere to go. Kate had found a way to channel her love into something beautiful, a tribute to those she had lost.

“How did you do it?” Arthur asked quietly, his thumb tracing the knuckles of her hand, seeking solace in her touch. His voice was a whisper, filled with the raw vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. 

Kate sighed softly, her eyes reflecting the depth of her own pain and resilience. “Well, it wasn’t easy,” she began. Arthur recalled the night she had shared her past with him, the way her voice trembled with rage and agony as she recounted the woman she had chosen to leave behind. The woman who had faced unimaginable loss and yet stood before him, stronger than ever. “I struggled on my own for a long time. And even when I thought things were getting better, grief would sneak up on me once again.”

Arthur listened intently, his heart aching for the pain she had endured, a pain that they now shared. He could see the flicker of old wounds in her eyes, the shadows of memories that still haunted her. But there was also a strength that shone through the darkness.

Kate continued, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “Eventually, I learned that it can’t hurt me, so I stopped fighting it. I let it come. I feel that pain, but I don’t let it take hold of me.” She paused, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. “I let it wash over me, and then I let it go. Because I know that the love I have, the love I’ve lost, it’s all a part of me. And I had the choice to do something good with it.”

Arthur nodded, absorbing her words. “I carry a lot of regret with me,” he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his past. “I wish I knew how to feel it without it taking hold of me.”

“It’s a form of self-punishment, Arthur,” Kate said softly. “You can either suffer the pain of regret, or learn from your past and move forward from it.”

He looked at her with hopeful eyes, each flicker of self-doubt met with her unwavering reassurance. Her words gave him a sense of peace and clarity he had longed for years. Hearing it from her lips healed something deep within his heart. For the first time, he dared to believe he could move on from his past.

They sat in companionable silence for a bit, the quiet moments filled with a shared understanding that spoke louder than words. Arthur gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, and Kate responded by peppering a few tender kisses against his rough lips. His troubled memories of loss were met with the warmth of her affection, earning a light smile that softened his features.

“Will you tell me about your son?” she asked suddenly, her voice curious but gentle. She gave him the choice, leaving the door open for him to decide if he wanted to open up.

Arthur took a deep breath, his gaze distant as he collected his thoughts. “Isaac,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “He was a bright kid, full of curiosity. Always askin’ questions, always wantin’ to learn. Eliza used to say he’d grow up to be a scholar or somethin’.”

Kate listened intently, her heart aching for the pain she could see etched in his eyes. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “He sounds like he was a wonderful boy.”

Arthur nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He had this smile that could light up a room,” he said, thick with emotion. “Loved animals, just like his old man. I remember one time, he found this injured bird. Brought it home and insisted on takin’ care of it. He and his Ma nursed it back to health, and when it was strong enough to fly, he let it go. He was so proud of himself.” Arthur didn’t mention that he was absent for most of these stories, only knowing the details through Eliza’s letters. 

Kate’s eyes shimmered with warmth as she imagined the scene. “He had a kind heart, just like you.”

Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know ‘bout that, but he was good. Better than I ever was.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Arthur’s words hanging in the air. Kate reached out and gently wiped a single tear from his cheek, her touch tender and comforting. “Thank you for sharing him with me, Arthur. I know how hard it can be to lose a family, and I’m proud of you for how far you’ve come.”

Kate’s words encouraged more silent tears, he quickly wiped them away. Clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. “He was a real good kid. Just wish I had more time with him.”

“I do too, honey.” She said softly, almost motherly. Her thumb tracing his jawline in a comforting gesture.

Arthur breathed deeply, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “But it helps, talkin’ ‘bout him. Keeps his memory alive.”

Kate nodded, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. “And I’ll be here, whenever you need to talk about him. Or anything else.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips conveying the depth of his gratitude and affection. “I’ll remember that, Kate. Thank you.”

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Later that evening, the newly coupled pair found themselves back in the cozy confines of the little ranch house. The day's labor left them both weary but content. Kate prepared a simple dinner of rice and chicken while Arthur freshened himself up. The aroma of the meal filled the house, mingling with the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. After dinner, they made their way to the bedroom, savoring every moment of their last night together away from the gang, the world of outlaws, and the endless running. For one more night, they were just a couple of simple ranch hands.

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, and the bandage wrap over his shoulder wound removed. He rolled his arm uncomfortably, the day's labor catching up to him, bringing a throbbing sensation and the familiar tingling in his fingers.

“You alright?” Kate asked softly, unplaiting her braids and combing through the locks with her fingers. Her eyes were filled with concern and tenderness.

Arthur nodded wearily, stretching his arm. “M’fine. Just sore. Pain medicine’s wearin’ off.” He gestured to his satchel with a tired smile.

Kate understood and moved to the satchel on the table, searching through its contents to find a tonic for his pain. She grabbed the balm for his wound as well as the little bottle of elixir, but something small and round caught her attention. She pulled out a peach pit and looked at it, confused for a moment, before realization dawned.

“You kept this?” She asked with a light chuckle, holding up the pit. Memories came flooding back from the first night she stayed in camp.

Arthur looked up and smiled, a light blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah, your kindness meant a lot to me. I couldn’t throw it away.”

“I never knew you were the sentimental type,” she said, her smile widening as she closed the distance and handed him the small vial. Arthur popped the cap off and downed it in one swig.

Kate opened the salve, gathering it on her fingers before she began to massage it into the flesh of his scar. He moaned softly, closing his eyes as she spread the balm, her fingers working his muscles, squeezing and rubbing his aching body. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, encouraging her to stand between his legs.

“Maybe we can plant it someday,” he said finally. “On our own land.”

Kate giggled softly. “You wanna be a peach farmer now?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Arthur opened his eyes and looked up at her, his gaze intense and sincere. “I'll be whatever, s’long as I’m with you.”

Her heart melted at his words and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Arthur. You are sweeter than any peach, you know that?” she murmured, the corners of her lips tugging into a smile.

Arthur suddenly tugged her body down to him, pulling her into his lap. Kate let out a surprised yelp, quickly followed by a delighted laugh. He pulled her into a deep kiss, his large hands roaming her back, snaking their way up her spine and into her hair. She sighed blissfully at his touch, radiating tenderness. His large body was intoxicatingly warm, she could feel the heat of him through the fabric of her clothing. 

Their lips met and broke with a light smack sound, engaging in a dance as they explored each other's mouths. An intimate melody of resonant hums and breathless pauses, the quick intakes of air, and the subtle, almost imperceptible sounds of lips moving against each other, slick with desire. Intense and consuming, echoing their fervent connection.

Arthur’s lips were rough yet gentle, filled with a raw passion that matched Kate’s soft and eager ones. Her hand cradled his head, occasionally tugging on his soft hair, eliciting a groan from his throat. Kate swallowed the sounds, their passion heating with each passing moment. The room around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other, in a world where nothing else mattered.

Arthur moaned as Kate's lips moved against his with a fervent urgency. Their kiss deepened, mouths opening to explore each other with wet tongues. They pressed their lips together hard, feeling the heat of their breath mingling. There's a sense of hunger, of wanting to consume and be consumed. A newfound fervor to pull each other close, eliminate any space between them as their two bodies pressed together. Every touch, every movement feels electric.

Kate’s hands began to wander, tracing the contours of his chest and feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. Arthur’s hands were not idle either. They roamed up and down her back, fingers tracing the lines of her spine and the curve of her waist. His touch was gentle yet possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling her close to him. His fingers played at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in a swift motion. He ran his hands over her bare skin, marveling at the warmth and strength beneath his touch.

Arthur groaned softly, his head falling back as Kate’s lips left his to trail a line of feather-light kisses down his neck. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled slightly under her touch. Her lips brushed over the pulse point in his throat, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

“Is this alright, Arthur?” Kate whispered against his skin, her voice filled with both desire and concern.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, meeting her gaze with a mix of adoration and longing. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice low and husky. “S’more than alright.”

Encouraged by his words, Kate continued her exploration, her lips moving down to his collarbone, then kissing back up the other side of his neck, sucking at the soft skin. The press of her lips sent a shiver down his spine, he felt relaxed and electrified. A deep desire and craving for more. He moaned softly and squeezed her thighs, massaging her flesh. 

She could feel the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under her touch, the way his breath came in shallow gasps. Her hands wandered lower, tracing the lines of his abdomen, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the soft skin of his belly. She was grateful his weight returned with his recovery, preferring her lover to be healthy and robust, finding comfort in his solid presence.

Arthur wrapped his good arm under her bottom and suddenly lifted her up, with a gasp she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. Kate's breath hitched as Arthur turned and pressed her into the mattress, his body a warm and comforting weight above her. His lips found hers once more, kissing her deeply, passionately. Their tongues danced together, wet and eager, exploring each other's mouths with a hunger that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

She could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh, a hard and undeniable presence that sent a thrill through her entire body. Recalling their previous night, Kate made no move to initiate anything further. Wanting to wait until Arthur felt comfortable and letting him take the lead. She focused instead on the heat of his kisses and the way his hands roamed her body, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through her.

Arthur's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. He reached her chest, his breath hot against her skin as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Kate moaned, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“Arthur,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to worship her chest. The sound of his name on her lips, filled with such longing and need, seemed to spur him on. His free hand slid up her side, caressing her soft skin, while his mouth moved from one breast to the other, lavishing equal attention on each.

Kate's breath came in shallow gasps, her hands wandering over Arthur's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breaths. His fingers traced the curves of her body, sending shivers of delight down her spine. They moved together in a seamless rhythm, each touch and caress deepening their connection.

Arthur's mouth left her breasts, trailing kisses back up to her neck. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot and ragged against her skin. He sucked gently at the soft skin, leaving marks that would remind her of this night for days to come. Kate's moans filled the room, mingling with the sounds of Arthur’s husky groans, creating a symphony of desire and passion.

Their hands continued to explore, each touch a promise of more to come. Kate's fingers traced the lines of his abdomen, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. Arthur's hands roamed her body, squeezing her thighs and massaging her flesh, his touch gentle and possessive.

Despite the intensity of their passion, Kate could sense the restraint in Arthur, the way he held back, unsure of how far he could go. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her eyes meeting his with a look of understanding and reassurance. “We don’t have to take it farther, honey,” she whispered against his lips. “I could lay here just like this, all night long.” 

Arthur nodded with a smile, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. “Thank you,” he murmured, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn't yet put into words. His hand slipped back under her, lifting her slightly to deepen the kiss, their bodies pressed together in a perfect fit.

Kate's heart swelled with love and desire, each touch, each kiss, strengthening the bond between them. As they continued to make out, she could feel the barriers between them dissolving, replaced by a deep and abiding connection that would see them through whatever challenges lay ahead.

They kissed and touched, their passion growing with each passing moment, yet always careful, always mindful of Arthur’s comfort. Inside the little ranch house, all was calm, a sanctuary of love and desire, where they could be themselves, free from the burdens of the past and the uncertainties of the future.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled away, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Their lips swollen and red, soft pink bruises marred the exposed skin. A sign of their heated passion where lips met the sensitive flesh. 

Arthur rested his forehead against Kate’s, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m going to miss this,” she whispered, her voice filled with a bittersweet longing.

Arthur's brow furrowed slightly. “Miss what darlin’?”

“This,” she said, gesturing to the space around them. “Being here, just the two of us. Away from everything.” 

Her words were vague but Arthur understood what everything meant. The chaos that was his life back in the gang, his role as Dutch’s right-hand, and most importantly his title as an outlaw. 

Arthur's expression softened, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Sweetheart, you know I—” he began, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. “I wish things were different. But the gang is the only family I have.” He spoke. Arthur longed for the same dream, a simple quiet life. But there were certain duties he needed to uphold, people that he couldn't abandon. 

Kate nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “I know, honey. Trust me, I know. You would kill for them and you would happily die for them. I just hope that you will choose to live, for me too.”

Arthur's eyes darkened with emotion, his hand tightening around her waist and pulling her close to his chest. “Kate, you mean more to me than you'll ever know.” He breathed against her skin. “I promise you, I'll do my best to make it through this. For us.” The words came out with such intensity it may as well have been a vow.

Kate smiled softly, her heart aching with love for the man in front of her. She knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but she also knew that together, they could stand unshaken. “I believe you, Arthur,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The first light of dawn crept into the room, casting a gentle glow over Arthur and Kate as they lay entwined in the warm embrace of their shared dreams. Arthur stirred first, blinking against the soft light, a peaceful expression settling over his features as he admired the sleeping woman beside him. Kate woke soon after, her fingers brushing tenderly against his cheek as she whispered, “Time to get up, love.”

They rose together, the intimacy of the previous night lingering in the air like a sweet perfume. With a shared glance and a soft kiss, they began their morning routine, dressing quickly and heading outside to greet the day. The ranch was bathed in the golden light of early morning, the dew on the grass shimmering like a thousand tiny diamonds.

Arthur and Kate worked in quiet harmony, cleaning up the barn and ensuring everything was in order for Seamus and his family. Arthur mucked out the stalls, his muscles straining but his heart light, while Kate fed the animals and refilled their water troughs. The work was satisfying, grounding them in the simplicity of ranch life and the shared purpose they found in each other.

As the sun climbed higher, a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, signaling the return of Seamus and his family. Kate wiped her brow with the back of her hand, glancing at Arthur with a smile. “Looks like they’re back.”

Arthur nodded, leaning against the stall door as they watched the wagon approach. Seamus jumped down, a wide grin spreading across his weathered face as he spotted the two of them. “Kate! Good to see you. How’d it go?”

Kate stepped forward, her smile warm and welcoming. “Went just fine, Seamus. Dolly gave birth to a beautiful colt. We named him Huckleberry.”

Seamus’s eyes lit up with delight. “Well, I’ll be! That’s wonderful news. Thank you both for taking such good care of the place.”

Arthur tipped his hat, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Was our pleasure, Seamus.”

Seamus clapped Arthur on the shoulder, his gratitude evident in his eyes. “You two are welcome here anytime. Don’t be strangers, you hear?”

After exchanging a few more words and ensuring everything was in order, Arthur and Kate made their way to the hitching post where Lorena awaited them. Arthur saddled her up, the familiar motions bringing a sense of calm and purpose. Kate stood by, her hand resting gently on Lorena’s neck.

Once Lorena was ready, Arthur swung up into the saddle, then reached down to help Kate up behind him. She settled in, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his back. With a gentle nudge, Arthur urged Lorena forward, the horse moving with a graceful ease as they left the ranch behind.

As they rode together back to Clemens Point, the weight of their recent confessions lingered in the air, a tangible presence between them. The steady rhythm of Lorena's hooves was the only sound, a soothing backdrop to their thoughts. The camp was not far off now, the familiar landscape bringing with it a sense of impending reality.

Kate broke the silence, her voice uncertain yet curious. "What do you wanna tell the others?"

Arthur's response was gentle and kind. "Whatever makes you comfortable sweetheart. But if you plan on hidin’ it, just know nothin’ gets past those girls,” he chuckled. “John too."

Kate knew the women in camp were incredibly perceptive. They spent their days in close quarters, becoming experts at eavesdropping and reading the silent language of the other camp members. But John surprised her. "John too, huh? Didn’t strike me as the observant type."

Arthur's gaze was fixed on the path ahead as he spoke. "Well, he’s not. But he knows me pretty well, sometimes too well. Can’t blame him though, we were practically raised together.” His voice carried a hint of nostalgia. “But he knows how to keep his mouth shut. If not, I’ll just shut it for him." He added, Kate chuckled lightly. Imagining the banter between the two brothers.

After a moment of silence, Kate hesitated before speaking again. "You know,” she began. Her tone was cautious. “John told me he got a lead on them O’Driscoll boys. Says he wants to form a posse and go after them for what they did to you."

Arthur's jaw tightened, and frustration crept into his voice. "Then he’s a goddamn fool. No sense in takin’ revenge for my sake. Does Dutch know this?"

"Most likely not," Kate admitted. "Dutch told me he had a plan a while back when you had the fever. But you know how that goes. John mentioned it to me the other night ‘round the fire. Sounds like he’s got a decent lead to get a jump on them."

Arthur's tone grew darker, his concern palpable. "Kate, revenge is a fool’s game. I’ve seen it kill too many folk. Promise me you won’t get swept up in that mess."

A fierce determination sparked in Kate’s eyes. "Those men deserve hellfire for what they did to you, Arthur." Her vow to cease taking another person’s life lingered in the back of her mind, but all of that changed the day she protected the Marston’s wagon from the raiders. The thrill of the fight no longer brought her joy, but she understood the dangerous reality of life within the gang. When push came to shove, she would have to kill out of necessity. Arthur’s captors may not be a necessity, but the thought of them almost taking him from her ignited a deep-seated rage within her, like a coyote in the night waiting for the right moment to strike its prey.

Arthur sighed, his grip on the reins tightening. "I’m sure the families of the men I’ve killed said the same ‘bout me. But you know what happens when they come to get revenge? They end up dead," he said gravely. "By my hand," he added bitterly.

Kate’s resolve wavered, her voice softening. "I know, but Arthur—"

Arthur cut her off, his voice firm and unyielding. "Enough. Promise me you won’t go with him, Kate."

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air. Kate could feel the depth of his fear, the terror of losing her to the same fate he had narrowly escaped. She took a deep breath, her voice steady. "I promise, Arthur."

As they approached Clemens Point, a mix of emotions swirled within Kate. She felt a deep sense of relief and happiness knowing that she and Arthur were finally together, bound by their shared understanding and the thread of fate. Yet, a shadow of uncertainty lingered, aware that Arthur would soon plunge back into the perilous abyss of whatever schemes Dutch had conjured. The ever-present threat of danger felt closer than ever, a dark specter gnawing at the edges of her heart. The thought of him stepping back into harm’s embrace sent shivers down her spine. Despite this, she clung to the hope that their love would be the anchor to keep them grounded amidst the chaos, giving her strength to face whatever lay ahead.

~~~

A/N: uh ohhhh is there some foreshadowing here at the end? I won't say. But things are gonna start picking up pace again and I'll be returning to the game plot in the next chapter. Their lives are about to get a little crazy! Sorry if I bore anyone with these filler-chapters but I needed a break after what happened w/ Arthur's torture....and I wanted them to get their feelings out there in a safe space away from all the camp nonsense. I think they had a good time wouldn't you say? As always thanks for reading!!!! <3

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Update 27 Nov 23

Ko-Fi thing

You can call me Nyarla, I guess.

Or "Yo She-Bitch." Either's cool.

Soooo I figured I might need to make one of those MASTERLIST things because I cannot stop writing (which is the most amazing feeling ever when I've been in a writer's block for months).

It's just One Piece Live Action right now, but as my confidence increases I might post some of my other fandom work.

I'm Open for Requests for OPLA fics and headcanon. Primarily Character X FemaleReader, but I'm flexible.

I do reserve the right to not write every single request that is asked, since I am human and my abilities do have limitations, but I swear I will try.

I'm not squeamish about much of anything, so don't refrain. I'll always post any necessary ⚠️Trigger Warnings⚠️ right here with the links.

I'm always open to requests for Shanks, Mihawk, Zoro, and Sanji. Possibly also Buggy, Luffy, Usopp, Koby, and Helmeppo, but I haven't written them much, so please bear with me if it takes me a bit to respond.

Honestly please bear with me if it takes me a while to respond to Asks/Requests in general because I get really nervous about getting them perfect.

Some things about the weirdo that's writing this shit can be found here

Masterlist

The Lovely Alphabet (NSFW)

Sanji

Zoro

Shanks

Mihawk

Dialog I Presently Have No Use For

(But might eventually) (basically mini dialogue-centric fics that may make there way into something else later or might not)

01 Get Out

02 Can We Keep Her?

03 What Happens in Loguetown

04 Coffins and Coping Mechanisms

05 Kitty

06 Send Help

07 Pep Talk

08 Death Wish

09 Oh No Not Again

10 Shanty Time!

11 No Sleep

12 The Throngler™

The Best Boys

First Kiss

Material Boys (NSFW)

I Don't Even Know Music Or Something?

Ooooh...Kinky ;D (NSFW)

In the Kitchen

HAMMERED

Because I Got High

Whoops

Short Stuff

Hobbies

ABCs of Kink (NSFW)

D is for Dominance (First Kiss sequal)

P is for Public Blacksmith's Daughter Part 1 . . . Part 2 . . . Part 3

Mihawk

Your Scars Are Mine (NSFW)

(Trigger Warnings for Self-Harm, Blood, Implied PTSD)

Ch. 1 . . . Ch. 2 . . . Ch. 3

Ten Years (unofficial sequel to YSAM) (NSFW)

Mood Swings (mostly SFW headcanons)

Hearing Problems (NSFW eventually)

Guess this is important

All OC Face Claims and Character Sheet Links

Ch.1 . . . Ch. 2 . . . Ch. 3 . . . Ch. 4 . . . Ch. 5 . . . Ch. 6 . . . Ch. 7

Sanji

Late Night Chats

X plus-sizeReader Headcanons (NSFW)

Tongue Ring headcanons

Zoro

Strawhat Stowaway Ch. 1 . . . Ch. 2

Shanks

Redhead suppremacy (sfw headcanons)

!!COMIMG SOON!!

(...I hope)

(Some titles subject to change)

Tongue Ring (F is for Food Play)

Blacksmith's Daughter part 2 (P is for Public, ABC's of Kink)

O is for O Denial

B is for Brat Tamer

[stardusthuntress]

To Speak Without Words - Ch. 1

Crosshair x female!reader (she/her pronouns for now, might get spicy later) 

Word Count: ~2k 

Tantis Rescue AU! I’ve had this idea for ages, and now that S3 has rescued Omega and Crosshair it dawned on me that I never actually posted this one! Seems like there’s no better time to post it than now! (also: TECH LIVES!!)

Summary: (mini-series) Crosshair starts to fall for the woman he’s rescued with. She has learned to read him easier than just about anyone else he’s ever met. He learns her too. 

TW: Crosshair has PTSD, and Hunter is still learning how to deal with it. Speaking of, it starts with a flashback to a torture scene… while Crosshiar is still in Hemlock’s custody (well, Hemlock thinks it’s more like ownership, but who needs his opinion anyways); I do mention that they both get back in the fight later, but it’s not a big focus, comparitively

A/N: So, I’ve had this for ages, but I thought I needed more to it before I posted it… turns out it’s pretty complete as is! And now that we’ve actually gotten to see the Tantis exfil and Crosshair and Omega return to the gang, I realized I really needed to just post the darned thing! I just want to say, I didn’t change this to fit anything from S3, it’s been written like this for ages, I just fixed some typos before I posted it, so S3 has not been an influence here! 

PS. This is my FIRST Crosshair fic on here!!! WHOOOOOO!!!

PPS. I promise I'll get back to the "Right Attire" posts soon! Just needed to get this one out of my WIPs!

Crosshair banners from @/djarrex, hyperspace banners my own!

He’s barely conscious. Voices enter the room. All are familiar, but not in a good way. But only one has a name he can vaguely remember, something to do with something deadly, like a poison… Hemlock! That was his name. The name sank like a rock in his mind, and took his stomach with it. Nothing good was coming, that was for sure. 

But one was new. A female. She seemed as upset as his stomach felt. But despite how queasy he felt, this he needed to see, to understand why she was here and whether he knew her. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, everything was a blur… gradually, his eyes focused on her face. He’d never seen her before, but the fear and pain he saw on her features was more than familiar… and then the memory faded…

Snippets of other memories flash through his mind, all out of order. His mind is beginning to block out large chunks of his captivity… 

Hemlock’s voice broke through the haze of it all, “I see those paternal instincts your batch mates displayed still exist, but unfortunately, I need the little girl for another experiment.” He turns to the TK’s standing guard, “Remove her from the room.” Then turns back to Crosshair lying on the table, “Let’s see what other animalistic emotions you tend to display. I know you recently gave up your disdain for, what did you call them, ‘Regs’? How about the civilians you thought you were protecting?” Hemlock once again turns towards the guards in the hallway, “bring the woman in.” 

Flashes of moments of both of their agonies as they both did their best to conceal their ‘animalistic tendencies’, as Hemlock put it, flash through Crosshair’s mind. Doing their best not to become attached to the person at the other end of the table, but the need to protect them was as inevitable as if they had been sharing a bunk. 

She’d been dozing off against her corner of the cold, hard table, sitting on the floor, arms chained to the corner above her. 

Crosshair was sitting across from her, attached to the foot of the table in much the same manner, doing his best to stay awake while she slept. They always took turns, so they’d have warning when Hemlock showed up. 

She woke up with a start when Crosshair nudged her with his foot. She looked at him, bracing for bad news, but he simply nodded towarads the door. 

“Shield!” Crosshair announced, he could see the corridor more clearly than she could from his spot at the foot of the table. 

She reacted instinctively, knowing that word meant protecting her face and neck as best as she could. No sooner had she done so than the wall that had been blocking her view of the corridor was blown away in a blast that rocked the whole room. 

When the dust settled she found a rough-looking man staring Crosshair down. 

Her head was still ringing from the blast, but it seemed like the man was mad at Crosshair. 

Hunter looked down at Crosshair’s battered form, leaning wearily against the wall. “One question for you brother… why? Why did you aim it at me before rescuing the kid?” 

There was a pause, while a disgruntled man with a device wrapping around the back of his head knealt down and began drilling away at the cuffs restraining Crosshair. 

“I could ask you the same question.” Came Crosshair’s venomous reply. 

Both men tensed, like they were preparing for a fight. 

“NO!” She shouted, tugging against her restraints, reaching for Cross with her feet in a meager attempt to shield him from the wrath of the long-haired man. 

“Here, lemme help you, little lady,” a voice spoke up from beside her, and thick arms reached around her and took ahold of the cuffs around her wrists, easily ripping through the restraints anchoring her to the table, snapping the cuffs in half without hurting her wrists at all. But she barely noticed, as soon as she was free she launched herself across the room and put herself between Crosshair and the tattooed man. 

“NO.” She said firmly. “Don’t hurt him.”

“I wasn’t going to, Sweetheart. He’s my brother. Just wanted to knock some sense into him, that’s all.” 

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” She backed up towards Crosshair, stumbling, barely able to keep herself on her feet, until her back bumped his chest. Crosshair’s hand found her shoulder, and she knew it was an attempt to steady them both. 

“I won’t hurt him.” The tattooed man said. “I promise. I’m Hunter by the way. What’s your name, Hun?” 

Crosshair’s grip on her shoulder tightened. A warning. Both to her and Hunter. Reminding them both that she had Crosshair’s protection. 

Hunter raised his hands to emphasize his point, “I won’t hurt either of you. But we gotta get you both out of here, it’s a long way, and neither of you look so stable on your feet.” He held out a hand in offering, but the two clung tightly to each other. Strange. Crosshair prided himself of never needing anyone, even his brothers. Clearly, they were used to only having each other and a hard time. Hunter retracted his hand. “I’ll be with you the whole way, I’ll do my best to catch you if you fall.” 

She glanced over her shoulder at Crosshair. He’d never told her about his squad, but Hemlock had done his best to pry information about them from him. She knew who they were, and that Crosshair refused to tell anyone about them, but she didn’t know why. She didn’t know if he still trusted them. One nod was all it took to confirm that they were ok, but the anger in his eyes, as he stared Hunter down, told her volumes. 

Days later, Crosshair and Hunter end up in a big argument, no one caught how it started or why exactly, but she can’t stand it. She has to step in. 

“But you still don’t SEE him, Hunter!” 

“You wouldn’t know. You weren’t there.” Hunter defends, his words heavy with his own pain. 

“I know— “

“—She knows.” Crosshair’s reply is curt, angry, and pained, and Hunter notices he won’t hold eye contact anymore, but he’s not sure why. He thinks it has to do with that annoying need to get attention only to ignore it when he does have it. 

“Hemlock had security camera footage,” she says quietly. 

Hunter’s cold, angry exterior begins to soften. “I take it he used it against… when he…uhh…” 

“Sorta,” she confirms. 

Crosshair is staring pointedly at one spot on the ground. There’s nothing there. But he can’t look at anyone right now. Not when thinking about what the two of them went through back there. 

She puts a hand on his arm. 

He tenses beneath her touch, but doesn’t push it off. 

She steps forward, slowly, and leans her head against his temple. 

“We’re both safe now,” Hunter can hear her whisper to him. “I’m okay now.”

What was that second thing she’d said? I’m okay now? Hunter’s mind was reeling. That wasn’t what he was expecting her to say. Had he heard her right? For once, he questioned his heightened hearing. 

She turns the conversation back on Hunter to take the attention off of Crosshair so he has a moment to breathe and return to himself. 

“Hunter, listen, I know you want Crosshair to communicate more. But you know Crosshair prefers to use actions to communicate instead of words. And yet when he does use actions to communicate, you ignore them.”

Hunter is stunned into silence. He has no idea what to say nor what to look for. 

She continues, “You said he aimed his blaster at you before rescuing Omega from the wreckage, and yet you did the same thing back in the training room, right before they destroyed everything.” 

She still pets Crosshair’s head and neck, as he hides his face in her neck, “You said Crosshair didn’t care about any of you, even the kid, after he chose the Empire, and yet he still managed to get a message to you, plan 88, remember?… he was caught and tortured immediately after.”

On her shoulder, she can feel Crosshair’s breathing returning to a normal, slower pattern, but he still needs more time, so she continues, “You know Crosshair never misses his mark, he keeps his target in the crosshairs, hence the name. And yet, whenever he found himself fighting against you boys… well, you’re still here. Doesn’t that tell you a lot?” 

Hunter is staring at his brother now, worry on his face as Crosshair begins to surface from the woman’s shoulder, but she’s not done yet. 

“Do you know how long he waited on that platform on Kamino before the Empire found him? Do you know what it’s like to have that much time alone with your thoughts, and yet he still warned you with plan 88. And you weren’t there when he disappeared in the ice and snow on a frozen world, returning a few days later nearly frozen to death with a dying reg on his shoulder, and then ending his commanding officer when the reg died because no one gave him medical care.” 

Crosshair’s eyes were misty and distant as he turned his body towards Hunter, though he still refused to look at him. “He saved me first.” Was all he said. 

Hunter stepped forward slowly, placing a hesitant hand on Crosshair’s shoulder and raising his eyebrows to tell him he did want to hear more. 

“I stepped on a mine. He saved me first. We were the last troops stationed at the outpost.” 

“Just two men to protect an entire outpost?” Hunter asked, trying to understand what his brother had gone through and what the empire’s strategy was in it. 

“Raiders wiped out the rest. Empire refused to send more. I was the last—” but Crosshair’s voice broke on the last word, he couldn’t finish it. 

Hunter stood there, confused and startled. He’d never seen Crosshair like this. He’d seen him mad and upset as a cadet, but never like this. 

The woman gently tugged Crosshair back towards her so she could whisper in his ear. 

“Then it’s a good thing you’re still here to remember him, to remember them all. Even the ones you never met. I know we can’t get them back, but we can remember them and what they mean to us, regardless of whether we tell anyone else about it.” 

He nodded, and once again hid his face in the crook of her neck as fresh waves of emotion silently racked his body. 

Hunter watched, helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. Until she yanked him over by his wrist, and dragged him to sit down on the floor with Crosshair between them. 

Unbenounced to the three of them, the others had been hiding just out of sight, but close enough to listen in. Tech got up from his spot, crouched beside Wrecker and Echo in the dark hallway, and quietly walked over to the tangle of limbs. Without saying a word, he took off his chest plate and sat down behind Crosshair, their backs pressing together. 

Crosshair did not react, nor give any signal of acknowledgment, but he didn’t need to. Right now, he just needed to let it out. 

After a moment or two, Wrecker and Echo entered too, each doing the same as Tech, joining the group without saying anything, just there, leaning against each other. Even little omega emerged from her room and snuggled in between Hunter and cross, Lula tucked in her arms. 

It took Hunter a long while to think through what he could say that would help, if anything actually could… until he finally settled on a simple sentence, hoping it would be enough. 

“I’m so sorry I was so blind to what you were trying to say, Brother.” 

Crosshair’s grip on Hunter tightened. 

Hunter took that as a good sign. 

“I’ll try to do better,” he offered. 

They woke in the morning, still in a giant cuddle pile on the floor of the ship….

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

[frogychu]

Antirrhinum

ellie x gn!reader

ch. 1 of 4

other parts: 2 / 3 / 4

word count: 2k

Hanahaki (花吐き病) : disease affecting the lungs, proven to be caused by keeping one's true feelings hidden for too long

Or

Where you and Ellie have been friends for years until she finally slips up, coughing up petals in front of you.

a/n : errmm hiii first time posting my fics on tumblr so of course it will be cross posted on AO3 here!

You’re making your way to the stables but just barely, you’re moping, practically limping. You’re late to an evening patrol, and you knew you'd never hear the end of this one. When you open the gates, the stablekeeper looks at you with pity as he's taking your attendance.

"I'm afraid she's beaten you to it." He tells you.

You give him an understanding nod and keep slowly making your way into the stables. The closer you get to the patrol board, the better you see the giant smile on her smug face.

Ellie Williams, the only girl who can make your heart sing and your blood boil. Even if the two of you are constantly at each other's throats, you have to admit that you've recently grown to have a little crush on her. You're not sure if this makes your constant patrolling with her better or so, so much worse.

Even if the two of you are friends, you've never really been emotional with one another; exchanging insults and constantly battling with each other was all you knew. You both kept to yourselves regardless.

Sometimes, you wish things were different. You crave to know her more, to let her show you all of her inner works, anything more than you have already. But you keep it to yourself for now.

She beams at you, "Looks like I'll be driving the bus today!"

"It's a horse." You state plainly.

"Shut up, I'm hilarious and you know it. Plus I won, so you're not allowed to make fun of me."

You don't care to answer and instead just roll your eyes. She clearly takes offence to it as she gasps dramatically.

Regardless of your bickering, you had a job to do, so you shamefully get on the back of Shimmer and hold onto Ellie.

-

Sometimes, your weird frenemy relationship was a bonus, especially for patrol. They would be idiots not to pair the two of you together since you were both the most efficient at your jobs.

Your partner looks back at you with a smirk as you approach a neighbourhood, "You take that one, I'll take this one." She says as she points to two snow-covered houses across from each other. Easy enough and by the sounds of it, there are only a few infected in each house.

"Deal." You reply.

You've both come to a point of mutual understanding that you can both handle yourselves well, but only use your guns in case of emergencies. So, as soon as you both hop off of Shimmer, you're bolting to your assigned houses.

You climb in through a window, fearing that the front door might make too much noise.

The house only has one floor and it only has 3 runners.

A breeze.

You take down the first one with your knife behind a couch, the second in the kitchen, and the last one in the entrance.

Before you knew it you were out the front door in record time, ready to rub it in Ellie’s face. That is if she hadn't beaten you to it already.

She’s outside petting and talking to her horse. She only turns to look at you for a split second, "Took you long enough!"

You half-heartedly accept your defeat, "Yeah, yeah, you're the greatest blah blah."

She laughs, "Oh, look at that! You're learning."

Her laugh sounds like heaven's bells ringing in your ears, paired with a perfect dimpled smile, she's been getting to you a lot more lately.

You push it deep down as you climb onto the horse again and set on course. The rest of the patrol is uneventful, no infected, and nothing new to report. There was just occasional small talk and comfortable silence as Shimmer carried you throughout the neighbourhood.

Ellie takes the lead and signs you both in at the lookout once you get there; a large house on the outskirts of the residential area. You take the liberty of looking around the house for supplies and to sneak away into the attic which is, in your opinion, one of the best patrol views.

As you grab the string to pull down the ladder, Ellie hears you as it comes down.

"Hey! Who said you could run off!"

The cold attic breeze hits you harshly as you start climbing, “Hurry up and come with me then!”

“Hold your horses I'm coming!” She yells back at you.

When you reach the top, you shake the snow off of your pants and quickly walk over to the large opening of the sunken roof. It's beautiful. The snow of the onlooking houses glittering perfectly in the light of the sunset, the trees rustling in the cool wind, the bright orange light in the swirling clouds.

Ellie had already quickly caught up behind you and her mouth is agape as she looks at the scenery in front of her, “Why have you never shown me this? I thought it was just some random storage thing.”

You turn to look at her, trying not to get distracted by how perfect she looks in this lighting. “Because you hate my guts, remember?”

She chuckles lightly at your comment, “Right, yeah.”

You both sit in tantalizing silence, unsure of what to say. She didn't try to prove you wrong just now, you don't know how to take it.

Did you go too far? She looks almost… upset?

Fuck.

She finally breaks the silence as she twiddles with her hands, "We should uhm, head back."

You nod your head, "Right! Yeah."

Neither of you even bother to put the attic ladder away and just head straight to Shimmer. The ride back was quiet, only the sounds of Ellie trying to clear her throat fill the silence.

"Did you, uh, want water or something?" You ask in an attempt to make the situation less awkward.

"I'll be fine." She says sternly, keeping her head straight and eyes on the road.

It's quiet again until you get back home. She gives you the softest ‘bye’ as she leaves. You barely hear it as you wave at her and part ways. You try not to think of today any longer and go straight to sleep before the sun even has a chance to set completely.

-

You jolt awake in a pool of your sweat, hand on your chest as you try to catch your breath.

"Just a bad dream." You comfort yourself, before plopping back onto your pillow.

The bright red lights of the clock were too difficult to ignore, reading 4:17 AM

Too early.

You knew you couldn't fall back asleep, in case your bad dream came back so you decided to get up and get out of bed. Though, not before taking your blanket and wrapping yourself in it, so you don't have to deal with the cold midwinter air. As you walk to the living room, you stop to look out the windows.

Everything is so still and serene at this hour. The moon is big, and the light coming from it is comforting. As you sit there, basking in the serenity, another light comes on.

It's Ellie's room, or, as you like to call it when you're irritating her, her shack.

Usually, when her light comes on, it's your cue to start getting ready, to beat her to the stables if you have a morning shift. But this time was different, she's never usually up this early or coughing this much. You're starting to get worried, but quickly brush it off.

Would it be weird to knock on her door? Make sure she's ok?

Probably.

You shake the thought away and head down the stairs, with a picture of what you just saw in the back of your mind. It had only been 10 minutes since you woke up, and even though it felt much longer than that, you decided it was too early for breakfast.

So you watch a movie. Just a random action movie; Curtis And Viper.

Ellie wouldn't shut up about this movie, claiming it was way better than whatever's your favourite movie.

You didn't want to let her win, but it couldn't hurt to watch something different. Besides, you couldn't help but admit that it made you feel a little closer to her; getting into something you knew she liked.

She can never know about this, you thought, as you turned up the volume and settled in.

-

The whole movie lets you kill enough time to start your day at a more reasonable hour. Even if the ending was getting to you enough to want to see the second movie, you power through and went to get dressed.

As you pick out clothes for the day, you couldn't help but peek out your window again, looking into your neighbour's small house.

This time, she's sitting on the side of her bed with-

Joel?

It looks like they're talking about something important, he's comforting her. He wipes away her tears and pulls her into a warm embrace.

You shouldn't be watching this.

Frantically, you go back to getting ready, skipping every other step of your morning routine and speeding out the door.

-

The stablekeeper greets you as you brush past him to go look at the patrol board.

Of course, you and Ellie are paired to do a route in the trails. Usually, you would be celebrating the fact that you got here first but you can't help but pace as you wait for her to arrive. You can't stop thinking about your unintentional snooping. Should you bring something up? Would she be upset if you saw her? What if by some miracle she found out you watched Curtis and Viper?

You try to take Shimmer out of her stable to try to take your mind off of things but before you can go see her, Jesse stops you.

"You won't be needing her today, we'll get someone else to do the route for you."

You look at him, puzzled. "Oh? Why?"

"It's Ellie, she's uh," he pauses and looks away. "She's sick. Joel alerted us just a while ago."

Now you're getting worried, and can't help but remember what you saw earlier this morning.

"Is she ok?" You ask quietly, so as to not alert anyone else surrounding the two of you.

He slowly starts walking away from you, "She's fine, just, take the day off."

You have to go see her, even if it's weird. You've known her for years and she's never really missed out on patrol, even with her worst cold she insisted on going. And so, reluctantly, you turn around and start making your way to her house.

What started as a walk quickly became a run. As you’re speeding through the streets, you're bumping into everyone and everything trying to get to her.

Maria shouts at you to slow down, but you can't help but keep running. Hopefully she won't nag you too much about it later. You care about Ellie, even if you don't tell her. The desire to take care of your relationship is bigger than anything else right now. You're determined to get closer to her, to know her better; you've always wanted to.

Hopefully, she feels the same.

Before you know it, you're winding down in Joel's backyard, staring at the garage. Ellie's curtains are thankfully drawn, so she couldn't see your embarrassing attempts to catch your breath.

As the adrenaline left your body, the nerves settled in. Getting here was the easy part, the question is what were you even going to say to her. All of a sudden, you're overthinking anything and everything.

Does she even want to see you?

Had you crossed a line yesterday?

You're sure she doesn't hate you, did she take it the wrong way?

Better yet; was it ok to check in on one another?

You can't say you've ever really done it until now. Even worse than that, it would be your first time seeing her outside of work. You're ashamed to say that you've never even been to her house before, even if she's your neighbour.

And that's when it hits you; it doesn't have to be weird if you're just a concerned neighbour or coworker.

It's not awkward if you don't make it awkward.

With your advice to keep yourself calm, you approach the garage’s front door with newfound determination and knock.

ty for reading !! ill be making a tag list for all the next chapters so let me know if you'd like to be added<3

[penkura]

last forever [1/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Notes: Hello, this is a fanfic I've been working on for a few months now. I'm still not done, but I figured I would go ahead and start posting it here as a cross post with Quotev and AO3. Sometimes I find this, Zoro and the story, hard to write, but I'm trying. This will NOT be a one-to-one rehashing of the arcs but will have more focus on Zoro and Reader's relationship as it progresses. The first two chapters are written in past tense, everything afterward is present tense, sorry about that. I've been having more fun writing present tense instead of past tense. I have the first three chapters completed, I'm still working on chapter four, but hope to have it done for Monday, and I intend to update mostly on Mondays for this one. Zoro and Reader call each other husband and wife at times, it's in italics on purpose. Hope you enjoy this one.

[Ch. 2]

Never did you think or imagine your wedding day would be like this. In a courthouse in a backwoods town with no real witnesses, to someone you'd only known for about a year and a half now. This wasn't even out of love for him, he'd only agreed to prevent you from being legally forced into marriage with a man several years older than you who had two other wives already.

No, you and Roronoa Zoro weren't in love, but he was trying to help you out so you didn't end up in a bad situation or with bodyguards chasing you down to force you back to your home village. When you had told him the story, he was honestly disgusted hearing how your family was treating you like an object to be sold, instead of as your own person. The whole reason you'd run away from home was to avoid this, but a letter brought to you by your family's personal carrier bird a few weeks ago changed that. As soon as you turned eighteen, if you weren't married or engaged to someone else, you'd be forced into marrying the creep that agreed to this when you were just fifteen. While you broke down in tears out of fear, Zoro told you he'd marry you to keep you from being taken back home. You told him he didn't have to, but he brought up that after your family heard, if they dropped the arranged marriage, you could get an annulment and it would be like this marriage never happened. You'd be free from your family and the creep, still able to travel and live your own life.

You were so grateful you couldn't stop crying and thanked him numerous times, never once telling him you hoped you'd never have to get an annulment with him. Your feelings for him were still new, he was a year older than you, but he'd protected you well in the time you knew each other. Of course, you could hold your own as a swordswoman yourself, but Zoro always tried to leave the recon to you while he took out your bounty targets.

So, a week after you turned eighteen, once you reached a small town with a courthouse, you both immediately went there to get this sham of a marriage completed. The clerk looked you both over several times, asking your ages and you lied, claiming you were both twenty-one when she said you'd need parental approval if you were younger than twenty. She didn't ask for proof, instead mumbling something to herself about how it seemed people were getting married younger and younger every year. No more questions about witnesses, parental approval, or identification to prove your ages, the older woman just filled out the paperwork and had you two sign it for processing.

While it was being processed, she sent you to the other side of the room to sit and wait.

"Thank you."

Zoro just shrugged, wishing the old bat would hurry it up so you could find a hotel and get a room so he could go to sleep. "You don't have to keep thanking me."

Nodding, you bit your lip. It was weird to think you'd legally be husband and wife, despite not being in love with each other, but part of you hoped that maybe over time Zoro would come to love you, and you him, so you'd be a few steps ahead of the curve.

The clerk called you both back over a few minutes later, stamping the papers in her hands and pulling a few more. "You're legally married now, congratulations. I've given you an extra copy since you requested it, and here's an annulment form if you've decided you made a mistake. You have six months to fill out and submit it, at any courthouse, otherwise you'll have to get a divorce."

You nodded and thanked the old woman, who told you two to be careful as you both left. You weren't entirely sure why, but if Zoro knew, he kept his mouth shut about it. Once you left, Zoro started looking for a place to stay while you found somewhere you could have dinner. Neither of you planned to stay in this town for more than a night, so you weren't worried about cashing in any bounties that day.

After finding a place to eat, you stayed nearby while you wrote a brief letter to your family and sent it to them, with your marriage certificate, by your family carrier bird. You really just hoped and prayed that they would accept this information and not still demand you return home, whether they wanted to meet Zoro because they believed your letter, or they wanted you to annul the marriage immediately to marry the creep that agreed to it first. Either way, you had no plans to follow their demands or return home.

You and Zoro didn't meet up until it was about dinner time, not a word about your marriage being spoken but your plans to leave the next morning and head to the next town were the main subject. You split off again after dinner, Zoro giving you the second key to your hotel room while he took a walk, in case you wanted to go and shower or go on to bed. You did so, taking a long shower to keep yourself distracted before choosing one of the two beds as yours for the night, laying face down with your face in the pillow. By the time Zoro did return, you were nearly asleep until he woke you when he opened the door.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine…I wasn't sleeping yet."

You weren't sure if it was just you, but things felt awkward with Zoro now. It probably was just you, because he went to bed like nothing was different, telling you that he wanted to leave as soon as possible in the morning. Shells Town was the next destination for the two of you, since a Marine base was there you figured new bounty posters would be available.

You spent the night half awake, unsure of what you were feeling anymore, but you knew one thing.

It was definitely not the kind of wedding day you ever expected to have.

+!+

What do I do, what do I do??

Pacing around the Marine fortress, you didn't know if you should even try to break in and free Zoro or just wait for the month he agreed on with Helmeppo to be up. All of this because he protected a little girl from the brat's dogs and punched him in the face, the spoiled boy using it as an excuse to bring Zoro in like a criminal, and you just weren't sure what you should do. He'd told you not to interfere and when Helmeppo tried to include you in it, you were surprised Zoro threatened him further and said you had no part in the matter.

Stopping, you sighed and crouched, holding your head in your hands and whining. "What do I do…?"

"Hey, you okay??"

The voice above you sounded kind, and you looked up to see a boy with a straw hat and a scarf under his left eye, with another young boy who had pink hair and glasses. Both looked concerned, wondering why you looked like you were fighting a headache outside of the Marine fortress.

"I'm fine…"

"You sure?" The boy in the hat grinned at you, wanting to really make sure you were fine, getting eye level with you while the other boy looked nervously around. "You don't look fine!"

"Luffy!"

You laughed, sighing a bit and standing up, the boy called Luffy following suit. "Yeah, I'm…I'm sure. My friend just…the Marines got him, I'm not sure what to do."

Luffy and the other boy, Koby you learned, both questioned you until you revealed it was Zoro that was your friend, causing Luffy to get excited as he climbed the wall to look into the yard, while Koby was even more nervous than before. He couldn't even believe that you were friends with the notorious pirate hunter Zoro, let alone traveling with him.

"Hey so that's him??"

Koby climbed up with Luffy and nearly fainted, almost falling off the wall when he saw Zoro. You were so focused on the two boys you didn't notice the little girl, Rika, climbing in and over the wall with rice balls in hand. You could hear her offering them to Zoro despite him telling her to scram, before Helmeppo showed up and had her thrown back over the wall, Luffy catching her and surprising you.

"Hey, I'll take her back to her mom's place!"

Luffy nodded and gave Rika to you, letting you run off with her. You got Rika back to her mother's restaurant, making sure she was alright when Luffy and Koby arrived. Luffy told Rika that Zoro actually ate the rice balls Helmeppo ruined, which didn't really surprise you. He had a soft spot for kids, you'd noticed over time, and always tried to help them if he could.

When Helmeppo came back around and started bragging that he was going to have Zoro executed in a few days, Luffy did the same thing and punched him in the face. The three of you ran off, Luffy jumping over the wall to tell Zoro that if he helped him out, he had to join his pirate crew, but Zoro didn't get a chance to fully agree or deny before Luffy ran off to the fortress to find his swords. Koby and you attempted to untie Zoro, but he was arguing against this due to the deal he made with Helmeppo.

"Come on, I only have to last a couple weeks more!"

"He's not gonna let you go! He's gonna have you executed tomorrow!"

"What?!"

Zoro looked at you, wondering if you had heard that or if Koby was lying to him, even though the younger boy had no reason to lie to him.

"I heard every word, that's exactly what he said."

The Marines, including Axe-Hand Morgan, came after the three of you and attempted to fire at you and Koby, but you knew how to use your sword well enough to block them from hitting Koby or you with their bullets.

Luffy returned finally, blocking another set of bullets about to hit the three of you, showing off his rubber powers which actually kind of freaked you out. Zoro, finally having his three swords back, was able to get free and stop the Marines from attacking all of you any further, calling Luffy Captain after agreeing to join his pirate crew. Another shock for you, one that you'd have to deal with later on.

Luffy was the one to beat Morgan, the other Marines all cheering once they realized they were free from the tyrant's reign.

The whole thing made you smile, glad things had worked out, even as Zoro nearly passed out from hunger, making you laugh and shake your head.

"You're so lame sometimes, husband."

+!+

"So why'd you call him husband earlier??"

Face turning red, you looked at Zoro who sat next to you in Luffy's small boat that just barely comfortably held the three of you. Your husband was fast asleep, arms behind his head, but you waved your hand in front of his face to make doubly sure he was asleep, before hearing a light snore come from him.

Scooting across the boat, you sat right next to Luffy who gave you a confused smile.

"Look, Luffy…you can't tell anyone else you recruit."

"Huh?"

You were trying to keep your voice down so Zoro didn't wake, but Luffy acted like he couldn't even hear you.

"Zoro and I are married."

"You're WH–"

You threw your hands over his mouth, looking over to Zoro barely moving, but still fast asleep. You'd quieted Luffy just in time so he didn't wake your swordsman.

"We're married, but it's only because he's helping me with something. We're not in love, we're not a couple. It's…a marriage of convenience okay?"

Luffy nodded, like he understood everything you just told him. He didn't really, but he at least understood you and Zoro weren't in love, just married.

Weird, but he thought he got it.

"Please, don't tell anyone. I'm waiting to hear from my family before we annul the marriage."

That part confused him, but Luffy decided to agree and promised he wouldn't tell anyone, he didn't question you further. He thought you and Zoro were close, he wouldn't have been that surprised if you said you two were in love and together, but if you said you weren't, that this was just a friend helping another friend, he'd believe you.

That, and as soon as his stomach started growling he forgot anything else he wanted to ask.

"Do you have any food, Luffy?"

"Nope!" Luffy grinned and your face paled, looking at Zoro who just snored again and you had a feeling of dread.

"Oh lord what have we done?"

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.” 

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency. 

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 

You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

[safe-from-sharp-teeth]

Ayo! I haven't answered asks in FOREVER, so it's time for some spring cleaning :) Also answering other stuff, like what I've been up to.

If you sent an ask and it's not here, sorry! I may have deleted it because the prompt required too much work of me and I wasn't feeling it, or I was uncomfortable.

Let's gooooo !

Firstly - where have I been? Work REALLY picked up in a way I wasn't expecting over the last...4 months? I was working double and often triple the hours I was used to. With work, vacations, random illnesses, and many video games I got a bit too obsessed with, this blog took a backseat. Plus, sometimes I get disinterested in vore when obsessed with something else. Sometimes, that lasts months, and it did this time.

But now I can confirm that work will FINALLY chill for a long period of time. I'm free! And more motivated than ever! Wahoo! Thanks for your support ALWAYS.

Next big question - when am I going to do more of my story? The one with Asyr? AHHHHHGHHGHH this story has consumed my life. I think about it daily. I dream about it. And yet I'm not as comfortable writing as I am drawing, so writing is a slow process that my perfectionist ass struggles with. I can assure you that there is a story in the works - and I am working on it at a snail's pace.

Okay, ask time...

@ponyluvesonic09 AYO maybe I'll make a full ghost pred pros/con list for you, because that sounds awesome! Kir//by is one of the silliest canon preds out there. Honestly getting eaten by him would be like getting vored by a vacuum, LOL. Galaxy tummy!! Imagine a prey floating around in one of those item bubbles all grumpy. Thank u for the ask, this is good stuff.

no. ( /・・)ノ

UWAGHHHHH I LIKE HER!!! Never played O/verwat/ch but what a gem!! I have a random fondness for centaur-like preds nowadays. She looks so cozy. THANK U I LOVE HER!!!

@tiger9o0 I have not played r//ain w//orld or know what it's about, LOL. Looks like a platformer? Man, I'm terrrriiiiibblleee at those. But whoever this is on the cover, I LIKE EM. A+. (That might not answer ur question shdjbghkjg SORRY)

@heimkoheimkofan LOVE THAT I GOT THE ROBOT ENJOYERS AFTER THAT ONE POST....YES yall are so right and I'm so wrong for just hard metal robot tums. I will rectify my mistake soon I PROMISE. Also oh! You were the one asking about stomachs other than elemental ones! IVE HAD THAT IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER IM SORRY AHHHH. I REALLY love your imagination with tums and you've inspired me to think of some awesome environments! THANKS

@fastfur07 BWAH?? Ugh I'm all over the place when it comes to art. Some pieces take 30 min (like the zangooc I drew at the top of this post), most take 2 days. Some really hard drawings like my wolf bat creechur from a few months ago and my shrimp from last year took a month. THANK U??

We're going back so far that I think this is about my naga oc (which I'm in the midst of redesigning cough cough). For him, he would never tolerate being prey, extremely unwilling bahaha. In general, I haven't thought much about naga or snake prey! I get the appeal of slurping up a noodle, but I just prefer human prey :)

@fastfur07 you fiend, you always give me the best drawing ideas. UNFORTUNATELY, I didn't have time to draw something for this one. BUTTTT....

(i've had this next one in my drafts for forever)

then i had a silly comic. I'll post the wip here because I won't finish it, so enjoy bahaha.

@blizzaria123-blog THANK U im rapidly melting into a puddle from ur words

@mrpotatomanversionsix relevant. i will continue drawing them 4 u

?!??!!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!? how dare u enter my ask box with this blasphemy

@sfwsillynoms WAH!!! you!!! I'm currently redesigning my naga oc but when I finish I'll tag you, if you're still around! And he can 100% be drawn with ur preysona :)

@mystorl i am SO late to this, but SMART. I like it. I shall give my lil guy this friend. I just want to let u know that I see this and it's wonderful and I will do something abt it.

I remember this ask made me laugh a ton when I first got it. thank u. idk why I find this so funny

@sillylilprey IM CRYING RIGHT BACK AHHHH this is an ancient ask, but thank u! hope you're still enjoying!

@terrytheinsane finally, the last ask in my askbox. I love it. You have been wronged with how long it took me to answer you. I have gained knowledge from your ask. THANKS

AND THAT'S IT!! Thanks guys, I hope to make you proud! Feel free to send more asks, and hopefully I will answer in a TIMELY manner.

Goodnight! And remember: Nice Vore ᕕ༼⌐■-■༽ᕗ