#i'll post to ao3 within the next few days

[gimmethatagustd]

✨ blog update ✨

Heyy besties,

I have sad news 😔

I've been going back and forth for months, even close to a year by now, about leaving Tumblr. It has been challenging because I couldn't decide if I should completely deactivate, make a new blog to repost my fics there, or delete everything but keep this blog empty. Tbh, I don't want anyone to steal my url lol. My hangup is really just the fact that I know it sucks to no longer have access to your favorite fics (not me being arrogant assuming my fics are anyone's favorites but y'know~). However, I also need to find peace with the fact that Tumblr hasn't been fun for a long time for reasons that I don't want to share in this post. So, I've come to the tough conclusion that I need to dip. This blog won't be deactivated, but I'll delete pretty much everything on it, probs within the next few days. I will keep most of my fics on AO3.

I am so unbelievably grateful for everyone who has made being on Tumblr for the past 2+ years fun. There are silver linings and hidden gems within my moots and beloved followers, and y'all are the reason I've lasted this long, as well as the reason I've become a better writer and fallen more in love with our lovely boys. It has been fun hanging with y'all! I'll miss my Taehyung whores the most.

Signing off 🫡

your bestie, jai 💜

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

I. “the club within the club”

parts: next

plot: when you find yourself needing a topic for a journalism final, you seek out an interview from Gotham’s elusive vigilante: Batman. this proves even more difficult than it already sounds, and tensions rise when you discover an intimate secret—just as Bruce Wayne realizes his own.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+ MATURE! NSFW! canon-typical violence, slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, forced proximity, eventual smut, mutual pining, POV alternating, Bruce Wayne needs a hug, mental health issues (psychosis, suicidality), substance use, blackmail (or is it?), serious health issues, grief, brief mention of sa, gaslighting, mild gore

words: 2.1k

a/n: this is my first fic i’ve posted to tumblr and ao3, very excited to see how people like it ✨ same user on ao3 :) comments and reblogs are so appreciated! 💖

"I haven’t turned in the assignment yet, I'm so sorry," You fumbled with your book and it slipped forward on the desk. Your professor wasn't too happy with you; already a week late, this assignment was creating a piece of journalism about happenings around the city—the city was used loosely, because it was school policy not to require students be in the field for assignments. You never wanted to linger on what might have caused that rule to be enforced.

Dr. Vry was usually the picture of impatience, though she had a soft spot for you—she described you as a ‘journalistic prodigy’. You couldn’t see it, and it didn't help that you couldn't write your final piece when graduation was so near. While you’d done well in the intro courses, now that the material was more complex… you were struggling. She would say it was all in your head, and the only thing holding you back was lack of confidence in your burgeoning journalism skills, but you weren’t so sure. You had come from a sociology background but had interest in learning journalism with your last few credits, unaware how much grief this would cause you.

"Y/N, you're overthinking it.” She gently shook her head, her salt and pepper hair unmoving in the slick bun. “I'll extend it until the end of next week without point reduction. But after that it's out of my hands!" With that you thanked her, hurrying out of the class with your book tightly squeezed to your chest. Thank god, you thought. I can't fail out of a class in my last term.

That evening you holed up in your apartment per usual. You absentmindedly texted your one friend here, Margaret, but knew she was out clubbing. You’d met in a sociology course last year when you transferred. She had been the only one kind enough to show you around the city, the social butterfly she was; holding your hand as she dragged you from bar to bar, club to club. This led to a cat and mouse dynamic between you both: her always hopping to the next party albeit the occasional pit stop in your apartment and you, the reclusive homebody. You hadn’t always been so subdued, but you hadn’t always lived in the crime capital of the US.

You longed for more companionship, but focused on how you'd be leaving Gotham after graduation. The sting of loneliness here was too great, and it was no use stringing more people along. Mar had snuck her way into a crack in the first few months of your arrival. Back when you thought you might find something here. Back before you were proven wrong, and you’d given up on this godforsaken city.

Mar didn’t usually respond but tonight, she did.

Y/N, get your ass to the club! I miss you.

You chuckled a little to yourself at the idea of getting all ready to be sweaty in a room full of strangers. No thanks, have fun!

Within a second she had disliked your message and sent another: You'll find more inspo here than in your studio. I'm sending a taxi, be ready in 10

You groaned and threw the phone down. Ugh. You were tired from a long day of classes, and didn't want to pay to be humped by random clubgoers. Men in Gotham were nasty, taking every opportunity to try and get something from a woman. Plastered all across downtown were blistered posters with a faded number to report drink tampering. You should have expected as much with the city’s reputation, but coming from a small town you were naive. You picked up your phone and her text stared back at you. The day’s exhaustion had worn on your resolve, and the longer you looked at her text, the closer you were to giving in. More inspiration... she might be right. You looked around at your empty walls and the waning light outside, the sun rapidly giving way to a dark, rainy abyss.

Fine, only for an hour.

You reluctantly walked over to your closet to pick an outfit. This was gonna be a long night.

You found yourself standing out under your apartment patio, shivering in your dress. You chose something subtle: mini, dark, with some heels to match, though you admittedly didn’t have many options. You’d hurried and only put on lashes, lipgloss, and brow gel, because you thought your driver would be on time. Staring out at the flashing headlights threatened a migraine, so you whipped out your phone and went onto Scypher, a Gotham-area social media. You didn't bother going on very often, only on the rare occasion Mar dragged you out into the city. There was a handy 'Crime' tab, which had up-to-the-minute updates. It seemed pretty empty, only some car vandalisms the past hour. Hmm. You felt uneasy, the environment unusually calm for a Friday evening. Maybe it's a good thing. Wouldn't want to go out during a crime surge. You looked up as you heard a tire tempt the curb. Your driver called out your name, and you slunk into the backseat.

The drive was quick, with clubs practically on every corner. Mar hadn't told you which one, so you weren't prepared when the car pulled up to one of the most elite clubs in the city. Your face went pale, and your voice cracked as you failed making excuses to the driver. "I'm so sorry, my friend must have given you the wrong directions—"

"No, it's correct." He was stern, and when you started taking out cash to pay, he waved a dismissive hand toward you. "Your friend already paid, Miss." Flustered, and frankly confused he hadn’t sneakily accepted double payment, you thanked him and stepped out. The line wasn't too long, so you got behind a few people who were laughing hysterically. You noticed some green tinfoil out of their pocket: Drops. You forgot all the biggest dealers hung around here every night. What was Mar thinking bringing you here?

The line moved fast so you didn't have time to find an excuse to leave. You held out your ID to the burly, tall bouncer who gave you a once-over and a smirk. You stifled a groan, hating being looked at like a meal. Living in Gotham meant always feeling eyes on the back of your neck. The bouncer grinned and handed back your card, holding out another hand for the club fee. Shit. You fumbled in your bag and realized you didn't know the amount. Sheepishly, you looked over from your bag and scanned the wall behind him as quickly as possible. $50. Jesus. You managed to find three twenties crumpled at the bottom of your bag, and begrudgingly handed them over. He smiled and opened the door for you. "No change."

Well, guess I'm eating ramen this week.

Your ears began ringing the second you entered the booming club. People were packed in like sardines, and before you could even muster a thought you were grabbed fast from behind. You suppressed a scream.

"Y/N!!!" Mar wrapped you in a hug and you grabbed her to steady yourself. "Shit, Mar,"

"You look SO good! Fuck yeah!" She smiled and smacked your butt as she took your hand and led you towards the stairs. You hadn’t gotten much of a look, but her eyes looked bleary, red. "I met some guys that got us a lounge!" She was giggling but you pulled back, wincing. You'd already been sufficiently creeped on by the bouncer.

You rolled your eyes. "I thought this was a girl's night,"

She shook her head, grinning. "C'mon Y/N, get loose!" As she turned back to step up the stairs, a circle of green tinfoil fell from her pocket. You yanked your hand back, frustrated. No fuckin’ wonder. She was wasted. "MAR." You bent down to pick up the litter just as a man came up behind you, grinding against your ass. A bit of his drink spilled on your side, and you spun around to shove him back. Mar stepped up, always a willing wingman. "Hey, don't fuck with a woman like that, bitch!"

BAM BAM BAM BAM. Popping noises that sounded like gunshots rang out from the far corner of the bar. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You grabbed for the railing to head for the exit when people running from downstairs rammed into you. After a few seconds desperately straining your vision to look for Mar, you covered your head with your arms while you ducked. The gunshots inched closer and closer, egging on your heart rate, curdling your thoughts sour. I shouldn't have come. I don't want to die. I shouldn't be here. What the fuck am I doing here? I shouldn't have come. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm going to fucking die.

You heard a rapid increase in gunfire and then a total ceasing. You wanted to look up, but it was too terrifying. Sweat beaded on your entire body as it became electrified with adrenaline—you had known how unsafe Gotham was, you just hadn't seen yourself in the crossfire… until now. You squeezed your eyes shut, pushing yourself hard against the side of the stair to try and make your body as small as possible. You wondered if everyone else had been killed, and they were looking for any survivors… The rough concrete texture burrowed itself into your arm as you jammed it even harder, forcing yourself to be compact. I could be dead with just one bullet.

Before more morbid thoughts could form, you yelped as you felt your body being lifted and slung over someone's shoulder. Something was hard and slick against your stomach, and you opened your eyes manically to see the world whizzing around you. The arm that held you was strong, so strong you couldn't slip out if you tried. You ducked your head as the person ran you both toward the back exit with total ease. Panic started to set in. It's so dark. Who is this? Is he gonna have his way with me?

As soon as you were brought an alley down, fully away from the chaos, you began fighting against the stranger. The streets were so dark you still could hardly see, but it felt like the person was armored. You’d heard some small grunts from them on the short sprint here, or maybe you’d imagined them? Regardless, you couldn’t place the voice while your ears were still bright with tinnitus. You shouted, trying with all your might to shove them off of you, to no avail. "Let me GO!"

"Stop fighting." A low, gravelly voice spoke right next to your ear. You continued struggling to the point you felt a bruise forming on your bottom ribs. It was as if the entire world had zoomed in, and nothing mattered more than escaping. You drew a quick breath, tensing your body to fight. This motherfucker isn't gonna let me go, is he?

Without warning he relinquished his grasp and you slid off the man, landing squarely in a puddle. You looked up and through the darkness saw a masked man clad in deepest black... the Batman.

"Thanks, uh," You immediately broke eye contact, feeling awkward. The tornado of panic in your chest relaxed ever so slightly. You felt bad for fighting so hard against him, but you hadn’t known any better. Before you could fully realize the gravity of what had just happened, how Vengeance himself was standing before you, he noticed something glint behind your ear.

"Turn around." The voice was low and gravelly still, and you spun around instantaneously. You'd heard good things about the Batman in your year and a half here. A few of your classmates had direct experience with him, having been saved on one occasion or another. "He never stuck around, he was always gone as quickly as he came." It seemed almost instinctual to trust him. And, his voice brooked no argument.

Suddenly the back of your head lit up in flaming pain.

"You need stitches." He stepped back and through the deadened night you saw a screen light up on his arm. "Victim with head wound on Feller and Kelley." You heard a faint 'Roger' before the screen went black. Fear shot through you the same time as relief. You were safe, but you had to get a needle snaked through your scalp. The thought made you physically ill.

To your surprise, he was already halfway down the alleyway when you looked back; just as he turned out of view, police lights illuminated the alleyway. Holy fuck, you'd just met the Batman.

And you hadn’t gotten a good look at him.

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Tom Hanniger Prompt Response

Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language

Word Count: 18k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive. 

How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?

You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.

When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.

He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth. 

“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”

Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”

You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”

Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.

He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.

When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.

Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.

As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.   

“Something wrong?” 

The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”

“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.

“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”

He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”

“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.

“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”

You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.

Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.

You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.

Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in. 

You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”

You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”

Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you. 

Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.

He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.

You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?

“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”

You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool. 

You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”

Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you. 

“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.

A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”

You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand. 

Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”

Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”

“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”

“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump. 

Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.

But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.  

“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern. 

“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.

You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”

“I really want to,” you cried.

He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.

“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”  

You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.

The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing. 

You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.

Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”

You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him. 

His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen. 

Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.

“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food. 

Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you. 

“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”

His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.

Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.  

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.

You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.

When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”

You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.

You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.

Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping. 

“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”

You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table. 

“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”

You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”

Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.

He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.

Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to. 

“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together. 

“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”

Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.

He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”

“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”

You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.” 

Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”

“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”

“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”

“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”

He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”

That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth.  “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”

“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”

Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response. 

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”

You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.

That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him. 

You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath. 

You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.

Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer. 

You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.

You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.

You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.

Miles, though, was fair game. 

He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.

Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”

“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”

He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.

You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag. 

At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.

He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.     

“You feeling a little better?”

You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”

He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you. 

After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”

You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.

He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows. 

You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”

Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”

It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them. 

He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”

You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.

He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back. 

“And Tom?” 

He glanced over at you. 

You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”

He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”

You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”

He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.

Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon. 

Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.

Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry. 

For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed. 

You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether. 

It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”

“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot. 

“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.” 

“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture. 

He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”

Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction. 

Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter. 

“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”

Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.

“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”

You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page. 

“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed. 

“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.

You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room. 

Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”

You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”

Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.

When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.  

You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”

You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.

He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”

Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”

Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”

“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you. 

You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”

You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand. 

He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.

“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”

You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words. 

You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.

Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.

A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.

Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer. 

You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?

You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right. 

“Tom!” You screamed. 

You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand. 

You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.

He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting. 

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though. 

He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”

Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.

His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be. 

Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side. 

“Y-You promised,” you forced out.

“I did.”

“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.

His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch. 

“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”

His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”

His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally? 

“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”

“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”

His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”

You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold. 

He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”

“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You need to stay calm for the baby.”

You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths. 

“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”

You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.

“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. 

“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”

“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.

He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.

He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”

You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.

“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”

The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity. 

You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room. 

You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.

You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen. 

Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks. 

It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”

Tom turned a confused expression onto you. 

“When he threatened me.”

His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”

“What makes sense?”

He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”

“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered. 

He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.

“Hey. Y/N.”

You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder. 

“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured. 

Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes. 

“Okay.” 

He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so. 

You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.

You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution. 

Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.

You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”

You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”

“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”

With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”

A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled. 

“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”

“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”

You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”

 “I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”

You shot him a look. 

“Open up or we’re going to report you!”

“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”

He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”

A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”    

You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.  

He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”

You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers. 

You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.  

She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it. 

You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.

Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.

Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.

Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.

“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”

“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”

Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”

You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.

Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.

You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going. 

Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead. 

“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.

Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly. 

“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.

“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”

You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”

“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.

Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”

You turned a stone cold expression on him. 

He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”

“But you’ve been with her?”

“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”

You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”

His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.” 

Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”

You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did. 

Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”

You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression. 

Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”

“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more. 

Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.

“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”

You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured. 

“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”

“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”

You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.

And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.

“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.” 

“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.

“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”

You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.

You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.   

The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face. 

“Hey, she alright, man?”

“You need me to call for an ambulance?”

“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”

He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”

‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky. 

He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”

Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”

He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!

“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”

You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe. 

“I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He turned an inquisitive gaze on you. 

“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that. 

He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”

“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.” 

He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”

“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born. 

“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”

“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”

He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”

“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”

His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”

You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”

Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?” 

You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”

He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”

Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.

He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line. 

At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.

He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember. 

And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?” 

You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”

He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”

Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.” 

“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”

Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.

“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.” 

“Oh.”

He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”

You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”

You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.

After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single. 

He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.

And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.

Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.

Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.  

So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.

He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.

While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now. 

You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.

Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby. 

Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.

He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one. 

He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.

You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.  

He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

A little tribute to my fav boys and some belated art for Bi Awareness and Visibility (since the specified week and day has passed, but September will always be Bi Month for me). You can also view Acknowledged on AO3. It has also been a while since I've posted Teen Wolf and Sterek art (since last year? Oops). Don't worry, I'm changing that for October. I have some fun stuff I'll be posting up within the next few weeks, so hang tight! 😉✨

[n0ahsebastians]

hello loves!! this is my first post on here EVER!!! that's kinda crazy HAHA this came from a special place in my heart, the first noah fic i've ever written (it's also posted on my ao3 account teehee) but i finally decided to post them on here. i hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think! i'll post more if y'all like this one :D

18+ content; PLEASE DO NO READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!!

warnings: smut (not too much but enough), lots of fluff and lots of love.

sugar on the blood cells, carbon on the brain (title from 'aqua regia' by sleep token)

They arrived late back home. The plane ride felt excruciatingly long and he was so glad to be on solid ground again. The tour was long, long but one of the best they’d done in a long time. One of their favorites, he thinks, as he’s grabbing his luggage from the carousel. The airport’s quiet; an almost ominous humming sounds from the escalators moving up and down and the lights above them. The few people that are flying late are sleeping in the chairs near gates or waiting for their rides to arrive out front. The guys and crew assist in hauling the equipment out to the bus, pulling suitcases of clothes and instruments and whatever else they can grab in the meantime. It’s freezing outside, colder than the weather they just left hours ago. Goddamn East Coast winters.

He can’t wait to get home, to the comfort of his own space again. To his kitchen, his couch, his bed, her. 

He keeps looking at the last text she sent him before he boarded the plane, see you so soon, be safe. i love you ❤️ 

She was asleep hours ago; time differences are a bitch but he replied to her anyways  just landed. on our way home. love you baby 😚

He can’t stop smiling at the message, knowing he would see her again in mere minutes. The thought of holding her again, kissing her, lying next to her for the first time in 3 months, was enough to make this whole tour worth it. 

Years ago when they first met, it was nothing more than a few words here and there between them. He dropped out of high school, she continued her studies. He started a band, she became an event manager. They stayed in touch here and there over the years but nothing was ever serious. They didn’t want to complicate things within their lives, disrupt the process or the flow.

But then the calls became more frequent. The texts became flirty, they were telling each other about their days and making sure to check in on one another. She called him when she was having rough days and he did the same. He was always willing to make the time to talk to her, to calm her down, get her breathing under control again. He was her lifeline you could say, in more ways than one. 

Then there was that time they Facetimed and she told him she missed him. How she missed seeing him everyday. How she missed coming home to him and even the little things like holding his hand and watching movies together. They’d only officially been together three months, but there was something there. Something so much more than just phone calls and long distance texts. It was something real.

It started innocently. Until it wasn’t so much.

“How much do you miss me?”

She could see a gleam in his eye, one she hadn’t seen before but she liked it. A lot.

“So much.” Her voice was soft, her t-shirt was riding up over her thigh; he could see the soft skin of her hip in the glow of the lamp from their bedroom; she was only wearing underwear and all he wanted was to put his mouth there. Fucking hell.

“I fucking miss you so much.” 

His words made her stomach flutter and she hummed softly. She watched as he shifted on the hotel bed, adjusting the laptop to have a better view of her. 

“Can we…do something?” He sounded so nervous, he didn’t know why he was nervous but he was. Maybe because this woman was absolutely sexy and he wanted her so bad. Wanted everything with her. He didn’t know it then but he’d always wanted her.

“Yeah.” 

“I wanna see you,” he said lowly, running his hand through his hair, “all of you.”

She gulped, trying to process his words. They had never done this, any of this. They hadn’t even taken that step yet. It excited her that he wanted this with her. That closeness, that intimacy. Finally.

“Noah…I-“

“Do you trust me?”

She took a deep breath, smiling softly at him. She did. She always had.

“Yes.”

“I got you. Trust me, baby.”

She loved hearing him call her that. It slipped off his tongue so effortlessly. His tongue. She started thinking about the way it would feel on her body then, how he’d kiss her, mouth at her to bring her to the edge. It suddenly made her squeeze her thighs together. Noah noticed, smiling at her from the laptop screen.

“What’re you thinking about right now?” He situated the laptop screen so she could see the length of his body now, his sweats clinging to his long legs and his bare chest in view, tattoos on full display. 

“You. I’m…thinking about you.”

“What about me?”

She was embarrassed. How was she supposed to tell him she was thinking about his tongue inside of her, how she wanted to feel his lips on her skin and his fingers tracing the skin of her hips, her thighs, his teeth nipping at her stomach and everywhere he could, when they hadn’t even made it to that point yet?

“Tell me.” His voice was low, sexy. It made her entire body ignite.

“Your…tongue.” There it was. She felt her cheeks heat at her own words. She couldn’t believe this was happening right now. 

“Fuck. Tell me more.”

“Noah…”

“Baby, there’s no one else here. Just you and me,” he assured her. She took a deep breath and tried to relax herself, tried to think of something that wouldn’t make her want to bail out of this. There was no way she could now; she told him she wanted his tongue on her. She was in too deep now.

“Honey, look at me.” His voice was soft, caring. He was sweet, so sweet, and she adored that about him. He knew she was just as nervous as him, just as vulnerable. This was a big step for them. For her even. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in years. There had been no one after high school. Until Noah.

When she was finally able to look at him again, he was smiling sweetly. God she wished he was here with her. Wished she could touch him and hold him and kiss him. Lay next to him, inhaling his body wash and hints of cologne that still lingered on his skin.

“Just trust me, okay?” he says finally. She closes her eyes and nods again, keeping eye contact with him as she begins to remove her shirt. He stops her though.

“No, leave that on. Take off your underwear.”

Fuck. Fuck.

She bit her lip, lying back against the headboard. She hooked her fingers into the thin material, slowly sliding it down her legs. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as she tossed them onto the floor. She folded her legs over one another, pulling her t-shirt down a bit so her lower half was hidden from the camera. 

“Fuck, I wish I could touch you right now. Kiss you.”

She decided to finally play along. She was feeling braver now that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Where would you touch me?” She ran her fingertips over the sheets, looking up at the camera just as she heard him softly whimper. 

“Between your legs. Fuck, you’d be so warm and wet. You’re wet now aren’t you?”

She was. She could feel the heat between her legs and she needed something. Needed a release. 

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

“Mhm.”

She hesitated before slowly parting her legs, making sure he could see her. She heard him gasp when she touched her fingers to herself, laid her head back against the pillows. She started slowly, listening to his breathing become more and more ragged. This was so out of her element, but she was loving the reaction she was getting out of him.

“Fuck, you look so good. I wish I was there with you.”

“Mmm…Noah…”

“What do you need, baby?”

“Talk to me more.” She started moving her fingers faster, not too fast though. She didn’t want to come yet. 

“Does it feel good, you touching yourself?”

She nodded. 

“Tell me how it feels.”

“Mm…s’good…” She moaned, making the fabric of his sweats tighten. Fucking hell.

“What was that you were saying about my tongue? You want me to taste you, don’t you?” 

She whimpered, her legs tensing at his words. Yeah, that’s all she was thinking about. His tongue inside of her. It was making her brain short circuit. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I wanna taste you so bad, you have no idea.” He practically growled as he continued watching her fingers move in and out of herself. It was the fucking dirtiest, but hottest thing he’d seen, probably ever. And it was driving him crazy.

“Fuck, look at you right now. You look incredible.”

That made her sigh softly, a smile forming across her lips and her brow creasing as she continued to touch herself. She needed him to keep talking though, the silence was not helping her.

“Keep going.”

He groaned, palming himself through his sweats. She sounded heavenly, like nothing he’d

ever heard before. Everything about her was unreal. 

“Spread your legs more. So I can see you come.”

She did, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t in the room with her and was thousands of miles away in a hotel, watching her through a laptop screen. She tried to bite her lip to keep quiet but he didn’t want that. He needed her to make more noises. 

“I wanna hear you. Don’t be shy anymore.”

“Fuck, it…feels so good.” Her moans were the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. He could

feel his sweats tightening some more and he wanted to touch himself so fucking badly. So he did. 

“Yeah? You wanna come?”

“Fuck, please,” she whined, her fingers moving faster.

“You’re so sexy like this, Jesus fuck.” He wished he could see the way she looked when she was coming. The moans and whimpers leaving her mouth as she fucked her fingers in and out of herself was the hottest thing he’d ever seen or heard. 

“Noah…I’m…”

“I know, baby. Come for me.” 

That was it. She gasped, her release hitting her harder than she wanted it to. She came on her fingers, her legs shaking and her toes curling. Watching her fall apart from his words was enough for him to finish himself and he wasn’t far behind her. 

She pulled her t-shirt back down over her legs, lying sideways on the bed again so she could see him. Her cheeks were flushed, so were his. She smiled lazily at him and he did the same. 

“Think I need to shower now,” he said, making her giggle. She didn’t even know he was touching himself until she saw him wipe his hand on a towel hanging from the chair next to the dresser. It made her legs squeeze together all over again.

“I wish you were here,” she said, her fingers reaching up to the screen. He smiled at her again.

“I know, me too.” He mirrored her actions, placing his fingers against hers.

“Umm…that was…”

“Hot.”

She giggled again and he wanted to kiss her so badly. He wished he was home with her

now. 

“Yeah. Maybe we could…try it for real. You know…when you…come home.”

He smiled again, his lips curving up in the widest grin, making his eyes crinkle in  

the corners. 

“I am absolutely not taking my hands off of you when I get home.”

And she knew he meant it.

He’s home now and all he can think about is lying down. He’s exhausted and feels like a 200-pound weight has just attached itself to his shoulders. He tells Matt and Jolly they can unload the truck in the morning after they all sleep. It’s almost 2am and he just needs to lie down. That’s all he’s thinking about. And her. 

The three of them enter the house after the rest of the group heads out, saying they’ll see each other in the morning for breakfast and some much needed relaxation outside of a busy tour schedule. 

He unlocks the door, tossing his bag in the corner by the couch, not even bothering to bring it the fifteen extra steps into his bedroom. He doesn’t care, he’ll take care of it later. 

Jolly and Matt go their separate ways as well, hugs and goodnights are traded before Noah makes his way to his room finally. He quietly opens the door so as to not wake her. She’s fast asleep when he squeezes into the room, shutting the door softly and locking it. He doesn’t really need to lock it but it’s been three fucking months since he’s been home and he wants to just spend as much time with her as possible in the confines of their bedroom. 

She stirs gently as he makes his way around the bedroom, opening drawers to grab fresh boxers and a clean t-shirt. A routine he hasn’t been used to in months. She’s wearing one of his shirts, he sees now, the way it hugs the curves of her body so fucking well, it makes his chest tighten and his stomach flip.

It’s been two years now. Two years since they decided to try this thing out. Besides his friends and the band and all the other things he worked endless hours to make his own, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. She was everything to him, she was his lifeline. 

He changes into his clean clothes, tossing his traveling wear into the hamper by the bathroom. He rubs his hands over his face, trying to function for a few more minutes to brush his teeth. Turning the water on wakes her up and he swears under his breath as he attempts to crack the door to keep the light out of her eyes. It’s too late though, she’s up now. 

He rinses his mouth out, turning off the water just as the door opens to reveal his very sleepy but incredibly beautiful girlfriend. She smiles lazily at him, reaching up to embrace him in a hug. He laughs gently as he reaches down to wrap his arms under her thighs and hitch them around his waist. The feel of her skin against his after all this time, the warmth of her breath, the goosebumps that raise on her legs as he runs his thumbs over the skin. This. This is all worth it.

“Hi baby,” he kisses her forehead, her cheek, holding her tightly against him. 

“Hi bub,” she says into the skin of his neck. He hears her sniffle and she pulls her face away to rest their foreheads together. He kisses her for the first time in three months, forceful but full of love and everything they missed while they were separated from one another. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he says against her lips. She presses her hands into his face, holding his jaw and rubbing her thumbs over the smile lines in his cheeks. He feels tears running down her cheeks and he wipes them away with his thumb.

“I missed you so bad.”

“You smell so good,” he says, pulling away from their kiss to press his nose into her neck. She giggles, wrapping her fingers in his hair which he’s cut a bit more since the last time they saw each other.

“You cut your hair.”

“Not much. Just a little bit off the back.” He runs his hand through it, keeping one underneath her legs which are still wrapped around him.

“It looks good,” she smiles, placing another kiss to his lips. She feels him smile against it, turning off the bathroom light and walking them to their bed. He lays her down against the sheets, lifting her shirt to press kisses to her stomach. She giggles again, her fingers in his hair as he continues down her body.

“Noah, it’s 2am,” she says, with no indication that she wants him to stop. He hums, taking one of her hands from his hair and intertwining their fingers. The gesture makes her stomach flutter, she loves when he does that.

“You’re not convincing me of anything.” He kisses her hip, tugging at the material of her underwear to expose more skin. She looks down to watch him, his tongue running the length of her hip bone and she bites her lip.

“You need sleep, bub.” A sigh leaves her lips as he tugs down her underwear. His fingertips against the skin of her thighs raises more goosebumps and she lifts her legs to kick them off. He laughs gently. 

“I know,” another kiss to her hip, “fucking exhausted”, open mouthed kiss to her pelvic bone, “but I just want to be with you for a little bit.” He looks up at her through his eyelashes and she really can’t resist this man no matter how hard she tries. He has her in too deep. He’s drawing circles in the skin of her thigh, she traces her finger over the tattoo on his throat, her favorite, and feels his pulse quicken at her touch. He kisses her wrist, her thumb running over his bottom lip. Touches that they’re trying to memorize again.

“Yeah, okay.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “‘Yeah okay what?’”

“Yeah, okay. Put your mouth on me then.”

He smiles at her. “There she is.” He presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh before bringing her legs to rest over his shoulders. Her fingers find their home in his hair again, tugging gently as he presses his tongue to the skin of her thigh. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers, moving closer to where she’s needed him the last three months. His breath is warm, icy from his toothpaste. The combination against her center sets her whole body on fire. 

“I missed–unhh!” 

“Sshh, ssh ssh you’re so loud,” he laughs gently against her, the vibration making her gasp softer this time. His hand flies up to cover her mouth. 

“Sorry, shit.” 

He laughs against her thigh. “Be quiet for me.”

She closes her eyes, letting his lips make their way back to her center. He blows against her before pressing his tongue into her, a groan leaving his lips as she presses her heels into his shoulder blades. It feels so good, not just the sex but this. Him. Being with him again. Her hands in his hair, his hands on her legs, everywhere on her skin. He was her home. They both needed this.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls against her, bringing her back from her thoughts. She moans again, her hips lifting to meet his mouth, his tongue moving against her in the most sensual way, she feels like she might explode from this entire moment. 

“Love…you…” she manages to say between heedy breaths and tugs of his hair.

“Fucking love you.”

“Noah…baby, I–gonna…”

“I know, baby, doing so good for me. Come for me,” he breathed against her. She absolutely hated when he said things like that, it made her come too fast. She wanted to sit on his face, fuck his mouth forever. Besides making love, this was their favorite. 

“Stop…saying that…”

“What, that you’re being so good for me?” He tongued at her again, her legs shaking against his head. She gasped as she came against his mouth, her heels pressing farther into his shoulder blades if that was at all possible. She tugged at his hair again as he coaxed her down from her first orgasm in almost three months (there were several Facetime calls but they weren’t always alone to have phone sex and the release was everything she needed).

He hummed against her before pressing several kisses to the inside of her thighs. She nearly smacked him for getting her off so quickly.

“Fuck off,” she laughed, sitting up to pull him from between her legs. “Get up here and kiss me.”

He did. He smiled against her lips, his tongue pressing into her mouth. She could taste herself on him and she didn’t exactly hate it. He breathed into her mouth, laying back against the headboard and bringing her with him. She laughed gently, reaching down to lift her shirt over her head. Noah’s eyes widened, staring at her naked body in front of him again for the first time in three fucking months. The longest three months of his life. 

“Are you gonna take your clothes off, fool?”

Fuck he loved this woman so much. He leaned forward to bite down gently on her bottom lip, a gentle moan leaving her.

“I can’t when you’re sitting on me, you ass.”

“You started this,” she jabbed at his chest then reached down to drag her fingers along the waistband of his boxers. She started tracing his tattoos again, the letters and the scriptures he had, all his anime characters across his sternum and thighs. She was distracted, he was distracting. His body and his hands and his lips and everything about him. He lifted her chin to look at him. 

“Hi,” she said, smiling. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her nose. 

“Hi. You went away again.” 

“Yeah, sorry. Just…missed this.” She traced the ink on his chest again, placing a kiss to

the skin there. 

“Me too.” 

She pressed a kiss to his chin, then up to his lips. His hands came to rest on her bare waist, slowly dragging her center across his clothed one. She moaned into his mouth, digging her fingers into his chest. 

“And I missed your mouth but I wanna make love to you before we go to sleep.” 

She hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him forward so he was on top of her again. He kissed her neck, down her arms, across her breasts, her nipples. He swiped his tongue across the nub, earning a low moan from her again. He trailed his lips down to her stomach, open mouthed kisses pressed against her thighs and hips. 

When he reached her ankles, he lifted her leg so he could press one last kiss to her tattoo there, earning another giggle from the beautiful woman beneath him. 

“I love you.”

She smiled up at him as he stood from the bed to remove his boxers. She could feel her body heating up again as he came to rest over her, lifting one of her arms above her head and intertwining their fingers. He spread her legs gently, pressing his fingers against her to open her up again. 

“I love you,” she moaned at the sensation of his fingers and the head of his cock beginning to brush against her. She closed her eyes, her lips falling open as he pressed their foreheads together and rolled his hips forward gently to meet hers. It felt like the whole room went still, their fingers squeezing one anothers above her head and his other hand on her thigh, dragging it up to wrap around his waist. 

“Fuck, I missed this, you feel…so fucking good.” Noah began to move slowly, careful to not hurt her or go too fast. He wanted this to last as long as possible.

“Oh my…Noah…”

“Fuck, baby…can you come for me again?”

“Mhm.” 

She was close again, he could feel it in the way her thighs were starting to shake again and the way she was whimpering into his mouth. Her fingers gripped his shoulder, digging into his skin as he rocked against her gently.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I went this long without you,” he breathes out, a low chuckle coming from her lips. 

“I missed you…so much.”

“Fuck…I missed you.”

“Noah..unhh…”

That sound. That fucking sound. He was absolutely gone for this woman. She was everything to him.

“Come for me, baby. I…I got you.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, she tensed around him and gripped the skin of his shoulder again. The feel of her coming around him was enough for him to lose his fucking mind; he wasn’t far behind her, groaning into the skin of her neck and gripping her hip with the hand that wasn’t holding onto hers still. His hips stilled, rocking against her one last time before releasing a deep breath against her neck. Her fingers petted through his hair, against the nape of his neck, across his back, his shoulders. He could feel her heartbeat starting to slow again, a thin sheen of sweat was settling over their bodies and he didn’t want to move, wanted to stay like this with her forever. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” she finally said as he was lying on top of her. He chuckled, placing a kiss to her cheek. He tried to get up but she pulled him back down on top of her. He smiled at her.

“I’m glad I’m home too.”

“Did you guys have fun though?” Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed, her collarbones glistening and a red mark was forming in the corner of her mouth from where he’d bit down on her lip. Goddamn she was so beautiful. 

“Yeah we did. Always do.”

“I’m proud of you bub,” she whispered, running her fingers over his cheek, pushing his hair back off his forehead. He smiled lazily down at her, pressing his lips to hers gently. She hummed, parting her lips to let his tongue press against hers again.

“I love you so much,” he says, rubbing their noses together. Another hum from her.

“I love you.”

[halfmoth-halfman]

Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

[sea-wolf-coast-to-coast]

7,935 total entries were submitted in 2023!

This includes all entries that were submitted via the Google Form, including late entries (and excluding duplicate entries).

Which brings us to 50,656 total recorded entries since we began this challenge in 2017! 

And, we had 109 volunteer artists in 2023!! Which means that there are 109 prize-winners!

A breakdown of the stats + announcement of the Participation Prize winners are below the cut ~

Want to see all public entries? Here’s a link to the Master Spreadsheet. This omits entries that people requested to keep private between them and I.

There's a lot to be gleaned from the data this year. Firstly, this is the first year where we see a real dip in participation, numbers dropping to the pre-2020 range. There are a couple of probable causes for this dip: this year, I chose, a) not to promote the challenge in any discords, b) not to repost any prompts to twitter, and c) not to post reminders throughout the challenge for folks to submit their links.

I was curious to know how much my own direct participation effects the challenge these days, and the numbers seem to point to "quite a bit!" So, that's good to know.

Secondly, we have finally approached the "data visualization salad" limit in which there are enough data points to confuse the visualization of the data overall, rendering them a little tough to understand at first glance. So, next year will probably see some fine-tuning of the data so that it's easier to digest.

Now, onto the good stuff!

Total Participation Year to Year:

Prompt Participation by Year:

NOTE: The big dips are Make-up / Extra Credit Days. Lots of folks choose to take a break over writing Extra Credit. Legit!

Prompt Breakdown by Week:

Submissions by Day:

NOTE: Day 7 was the day before the 24-hour deadline went into effect. Hence, the big ol’ spike.

Submissions by Platform:

Participation Prize Winners

Winners were selected via a random raffle dice roll made by Moen and span all online writing platforms, including Tumblr, Ao3, Google Docs, and others (like Twitter). This writing challenge is not a contest - no one’s work was being judged for length, skill, etc. The prizes are based on participation only! The more entries that you wrote and submitted within its 24-hour deadline, the higher your chance of winning a prize.

Prizes are a simple black & white portrait of the winner’s character. Most are shoulder up but the artists are free to take liberties if they’d like. Prizes are not commissioned work, so ultimately it’s the artist’s choice for what they’d like to do for the piece. Some artists (not all) accept commissions and might be open to colorizing a prize piece, after it’s been posted, at their normal rates.

Due to recent changes in Discord's username format, this year (and this year only) all winners will be notified by yours truly (MoenMoen) via a friend request and message in Discord. Next year I'll be teaming up with some folks to find a better, more streamlined process for informing and connecting winners with their volunteer artist.

So, keep an eye out for me in your Discord friend requests/inbox over the next week or so (it will take me a minute to get to everyone):

As always, there are a few winners whose artists may need to drop out for personal reasons, and that’s ok! In those cases, the winners will be carried over into 2024′s pool of winners where another artist will pick up their prize and complete it.

Congrats to all 109 winners, and I'll see you in September 2024 when we do it all again!

[sasuhinamonth]

Beginnings and Ends - SasuHina Recs

It's the 21st! That means it's fic writer appreciation day!

In celebration, I'd like to share some SH recs, but in a fun way!!! I'll be posting the first and last line of the fic, along with name, author, and brief description as to why I'm rec-ing it!

Good work, writers!

p.s. - Most of the links will be to FFNet, but if you see purple text, that means it's posted on AO3 as well~ I'm just doing this to save a little time on my end, but I understand some prefer reading on AO3!

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

A Miracle by Eleanor Rigby 000

"A field trip!?" The class repeated. After that, several voices chirped, each of them commenting on how psyched they are for the class field trip.

"Forever," she assured

This is a angsty, passionate story of hurt, comfort, love, and meeting an old love. The story is Modern AU where Sasuke's a model and comes back to visit his childhood town, where he meets Hinata. Honestly, this is the first and only fic that has made me actively cry, and I cannot praise it enough! Please check it out!!!

~-~-~

Okaeri by The Penumbra

She felt his fist connect with her stomach and went crashing down to the ground, barely having time to register what was happening.

"Okaeri, Sasuke. Welcome home."

This is sort of a prequel to the author's other fic "Snapshots: Black and White", which is also a stellar fic. It's set in canonverse, where Sasuke and Hinata slowly develop a friendship/relationship. You'll get your fair amount of angst, but really, you can hardly avoid such things in SH fics xD.

~-~-~

Ichinen by Cinderella Starsend

Hyuuga Hinata stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the door and shut it behind her.

"And I love you."

I LOVE this fic! It's split into 12 chapters, each corresponding with a month. Hinata works at Ichiraku's in an attempt to get closer to Naruto, but she bonds with Sasuke more. I really enjoy fics set in the narutoverse that change things like this, mixing around dynamics so it's not always ninja stuff and war and training. It's a cute story, and the author's prose is beautiful!

~-~-~

Neji Hyuuga: Matchmaker by emilyjm

Hyuuga Neji prided himself on seeing things other people never noticed.

Mission: matchmaker must be completed within five years.. Good luck, Neji!

UGHHHHH! Where do I start????? It's set in narutoverse where Neji's not only alive, but in charge of matchmaking everyone in Konoha so that he can get Sasuke and Hinata together. It's incredible sweet and incredibly moving and incredibly moving, and I love SH fics with a heavy focus on Neji. Please read it, and please read Another Story (sequel) which is JUST as good!!!

~-~-~

When Will I Lose You by @elreinodelpurgatorio

Hinata, Lady of the Underworld, stands in her peach orchard and watches the Doom God and the Messenger God speak to each other.

One of these days, Sasuke, seated on a throne next to Hinata, is the one to look at a wretched soul and say: "Request denied."

This is a really fun HadesxPersephone AU where Hinata is Hades and Sasuke is Persephone! It's a short, magical read that is always a breath of fresh air! The author is really good at coming up with pretty sentences. Highly rec!

~-~-~

What's Mine To Give by WritingHyuHin

After the massacre of his clan, Sasuke had one goal in his life at that young age. Revenge.

The things I do for you... Only you.... Hinata.

This is a rewriting of The Last movie, but SasuHina style! I think it's very believable and a fun thing to read, since I've watched The Last quite a few times. Seeing things that should be Naruto but are instead replaced with Sasuke warm my little, shipper heart. Give this one a chance!

~-~-~

Nyctophilia by Sommernacht

For as long as he could remember, the night had offered him comfort.

"Indeed," he whispered against her skin. His fingers found their way under her fishnet top, making her shiver under the touch. "The most beautiful night."

Sommer hits it out of the park once again! This was their 2022 SHMonth one-shot in which Sasuke and Hinata secretly meet each other when 'borrowing' meds at night. They grow close and confide in one another, and I think it's a loving, deep connection that is impressive to make in just one chapter!

~-~-~

A Study of Mannerisms and Other Alterations by MissLe

Sasuke Uchiha, as it was well known, was in possession of some very, very gorgeous eyes.

She decided, however, that the regal Uchiha nose would always hold a special place in her heart.

Ahhhh, this is probably one of my all time favorite fics! It's fluffy, it's cute, it's funny! I absolutely adore it! This fic is set in a Modern AU, where Hinata is a waitress at a cafe and Sasuke, a member of the firefighter team that comes by almost daily, has a pretty obvious crush on her. These two dweebs are adorable, and I read this fic so much!!!

~-~-~

Uprooted by @kiljoius

Today, Hinata is 20.

“Maybe I can live with that.” Maybe she can, too, she thinks.

Arranged Marriage? Check. Fluff and Humor in a SH FIC of all things???? Check. Witty dialogue and amazing chemistry? Check check check! Without giving too many spoilers, this Modern AU fic follows Hinata and Sasuke, who plan to act 'over the top' in their arranged relationship in order to get out of it. Lets just say it doesn't work as planned for them huhu. This is a really fun fic, so if you're in the mood, give it a read!

~-~-~

This is what I've got for now, but please feel free to comment or reblog with your own favorite fics (either your own or others) with their first and last lines.

@kiljoius @elreinodelpurgatorio @daifukumochiin @catruru @fher43 @gardenatsuntime @lavendereyedassassin @cariata @naoko-ichigo @lavender-long-stories @p-crowds @queenfox352 - You guys, too! Show off fics you like (or your own)!

Good work to all authors/writers out there! We love you!!!

Mod: PC

[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter sixteen | chapter fifteen | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

word count: 4987

a/n: Hi guys, so sorry about not updating here for a while! I promise I'll continue posting Orange Slices chapter updates here, I just completely forgot to post chapter 17. Not to be annoying, but if you are interested in staying in touch with me/my other works/story updates (including fororange slices), I am now mainly on @urbancowboyjoel now. Chapter 18 is still in the works, explanation is at the end of the chapter hehe.

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

@pocket-macnchz

Chapter Seventeen

“Come to me in the silence of the night; come in the sparkling silence of a dream.” -Christina Rossetti

The moonlight streams in through the small window in the kitchen, offering a comforting presence in the midst of your sudden onset of insomnia. After the day you had, all the lifting and moving, you should be tired; you should be exhausted. However, after tossing and turning for hours while your mind raced with thoughts about James and Joel and Nessa and your impending return to patrol and past memories, of your hometown and how things used to be, how much has changed within the past few years–your relentless thoughts refused to slow down no matter how much you tried to fight against them, so you forced yourself from the couch and took a seat at the kitchen table in the dark. 

Staring off into the dark abyss of where you just came from, you roll your neck, grimacing at the shooting pain at the base of your skull. Sleeping on the couch was not working out. Nothing good came out of it, just restless nights and daily body aches. Still, regardless of being in this house for a while, the reminisce of the lives that used to call this house their home still haunts you in one form or another. This place has yet to begin feeling like yours, and at this rate, you don’t think it ever will. 

The past few weeks have been nothing short of a blur, between the conversation you had with Joel and the myriad of drama surrounding you in Jackson, your mind has been rather preoccupied. 

After your eyes fully adjusted to the dark, you reached for the notebook at the center of the table. The clock mounted behind you on the wall in the kitchen, was loud in your ears, the mixture of tick-tocks and your heartbeat whooshing in your ear gave you a sense of unsettling nausea. 

You flipped to the next available blank page in the worn notebook, the moon casting a sliver of light across the table as if it was encouraging you to write about your troubles after witnessing your restless night for countless weeks. The eraser head hits the paper in between the ticks and tocks of the clock as you delve further into your thoughts. Where do I start? You ask yourself.

A few weeks ago, after returning from an uneventful patrol alongside Joel, you came across a post on the community information board in the town square. Charles posted a help wanted request for cleaning and setting up a library in one of the vacant buildings within the community. As soon as you saw his name signed at the bottom, you ripped it from the board and rushed to his house to volunteer your hand. A part of you felt saddened that he didn’t come to you and ask, considering he confided in you that one day he'd like to open a library here. Although, given the rocky state of things going on in your life, you understood why he didn’t ask to begin with. 

After going around to the different guards, asking for anyone to cover her spot with patrol, Tommy was the only one who stepped up while you and Charles began stripping the building, cleaning, and organizing the collection of books he’s hoarded over the years, were donated by members of the community, or were purposely scavenged from nearby.

Although you hated admitting this to yourself, it was nice getting a break from doing patrol. Setting up the library was the perfect distraction from everything going on, and spending time with Charles, someone who you looked up to for guidance and as a father figure, was the kind of presence your soul needed. 

That distraction only went so far though, at night your thoughts consistently kept you up into the wee hours of the morning. It had nearly become debilitating and you knew it was something you’d have to figure out sooner rather than later, particularly before you returned to your patrol duties. The main two culprits that haunted your thoughts were none other than Joel and James; Joel, mainly because you’ve been spending much less time with him than usual, and James for the fact that he’s been too involved in your life lately. 

Regardless of not going on patrol with Joel, you still see him nearly everyday. Usually the two of you eat dinner together, with him stopping by what will eventually become the library to see if you wanted to join him. Your answer was always yes with no hesitation on your end. After dinner, he'd walk you home, sometimes he’d stay for an hour or so, other times he’d retreat to his house to go to bed, telling you that the sleepless nights in the QZ and on the outside were catching up with him. At the end of each day, you always craved more from him.

Then there was James. Oh, James…

Ever since your confrontation out front of the stables about the little stunt he pulled that almost got you taken off of patrols, it seems as if James has been trying to do some intense damage control with you. He’s stopped by your house a handful of times that you know of. You’ve never opened the door, going completely still so as to not alert him of your presence, though he still takes it upon himself to profusely apologize through the door, pleading for you to talk to him. 

Through word of mouth, either from the other guards discussing your temporary leave or from Charles himself, James must’ve learned about you helping with the library because he began showing up between his patrols and other guard duties, claiming he just wants to see how things are coming along. 

These unexpected drop-ins put Charles in an awkward position; you knew it, James knew it—he came anyway. While you stealthily slipped into the back room to busy yourself, sometimes organizing piles of books you already organized days prior, other times just staring at the wall, Charles would take the initiative to entertain James with small talk. 

Every time James made his eventual departure, Charles would let out a loud heavy sigh, saying so much with no words. And after you’d mutter your half-assed apology as you emerged from the back room, he’d give you a look; one so full of disappointment and defeat. For the rest of the day, both of you would work in silence.

Charles never said anything beyond his sigh and the look he’d give you in regards to James. His body language was more than enough and he knew that. He knew the guilt that you feel and the conflicting anger you have towards James. After the last talk the two of you had, he’d given up and knew no matter what he said to you, no matter how much he tried to help, you wouldn’t listen anyway.

He knew you were a coward and had no plan of resolving things with James anytime soon.

A coward wishing their problem would disappear. 

You wished James would just disappear , because then you wouldn’t have to think about what you did to him that started this. And that made you feel guilty. 

Eventually, you knew you’d have to come face to face with James, knowing that he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. The community is relatively small and people talk; in the long run it would be best to smooth things over, at least attempt to talk things out. Although, it just wasn’t something you could do right now. Not with your conflicting and complex feelings toward James—especially not when things were so God damned gray with Joel. 

The snapping of the lead of your pencil pulls you out of your mind consuming rant, suddenly becoming aware of your dark surroundings as you return to reality. You could feel the intense heat radiating off of your cheeks as you brought one palm up to your face. 

After staring at the paper for a few minutes, taking in the messy scribbles of words, you rip out the page in one swift motion, immediately crumpling it into a ball. The muscles in your forearm tensed as you squeezed the paper within your fist, making it smaller and more compact with each squeeze. The paper disappeared within the dark shadows of the kitchen when you chucked it across the table.

Your head began to spin, a buzzing sensation filling your skull and making you feel uneasy. Moving the hand on your cheek up to your forehead, you let out a sigh of frustration and close your eyes.

Joel. 

Such an intense and complex person. From the moment you sat across from him at that damned table at that abandoned cabin, you felt drawn to him. Something about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on made you feel understood and protected and at ease. When it was just the two of you, you could imagine what life would be like by his side, and it was something you so badly wanted to manifest into reality. He could be a complete asshole at times, but then there were other times when he was so vulnerable with you and he would laugh and you could see a glimmer of joy in his eyes that gave you a tiny glimpse of who he was before the outbreak happened. Weirdly enough, you wanted him just as much in his worst moments as you did in his best. To you, knowing that was enough. It was enough to understand what you felt for him.

James…

He was such a sweet and kind soul, always making you feel so normal, as if none of this outbreak bullshit ever happened. James felt things so purely and intensely, it almost made you envious that someone could experience life in such a way after losing so much.  From the beginning he treated you as an equal, he didn’t make you have to prove yourself like some of the others did, he didn’t see you as the weird girl who showed up with Tommy Miller and his misfit older brother. He treated you like a human being deserving of friendship, he stuck up for you, and on the late nights the two of you would spend together, he made you feel like you were something important to this world. While all those things may remain true, it doesn’t change how he treated Joel or what he did to you when his jealousy took over. Things could never go back to how they were after that.

Closing the front cover of the notebook and slipping the pencil into the spiral binding for safe keeping, you slide it back to the center of the table where you retrieved it from.

In the past, writing had helped you sort through your thoughts, it did when Joel left shortly after you arrived in Jackson and when memories of the past became too much to bear. It gave you a chance to dump everything without the judgment of others and many times you were able to either solve the core of the problem or come to some sort of decision on how to manage your feelings, but this time around…no matter how much you deliberated, how much you wrote, it just leaves you with a bigger headache than you started with. 

And this headache seemed to grow worse as the days went on. 

As your hand ran down the front of your face, you turned in your chair to look at the clock, squinting your eyes to make out the numbers and hand position in the dark. You raise your eyebrows when you realize it’s now past midnight, nearly an hour has passed and you have been completely lost in your thoughts this entire time. 

At this point the moonlight shifted, the sliver that previously caressed the table with a soft glow, was now leading you to the couch. 

Pressing your palms firmly against the smooth surface of the table, it takes you a second to push yourself up onto your feet as your eyes lock onto one of the many burn marks pulling you back into your daze. Joel did say I was welcome anytime, the words appear in your mind without any warning, maybe I can… With one hard, intentional blink, the thought disappeared.

Nothing good ever comes after midnight. On top of that, you aren't being rational right now, you’re sleep deprived and borderline delarius. Nothing good will come out of that, you whisper your words out loud. Sleep. That’s what you needed. That’s all you need right now. Not clarity, or confirmation, or him.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you walk the short distance from the table to the couch, nearly toppling over on the couch. All you wanted at the moment was to sleep. You desperately wanted a break from your racing thoughts that were now becoming tortuous. Before laying down, you punched the poor excuse of a pillow a few times before laying on your back, your hands resting just above your navel. As you close your eyes, you slow your breathing. 

Trying to trick your brain into sleeping, you count the seconds that pass in unison to the ticking clock. Flashing images of Joel kept distracting you, so when you finally reached six hundred after several failed attempts, you flipped onto your side with your face now facing the back of the couch. The rough fabric brushed the tip of your nose as you nuzzled your face into the cushion, the heat of your breathing warming your cold cheeks. 

Three hundred more seconds pass before you shoot up from the couch, the sudden movement making blood rush to your head, the already dark room becoming darker for a fraction of time. Your heart, for some reason that you don’t know why, is racing, thumping strongly within the confines of your chest.

Placing your hand over your heart, feeling the movement under the layers of skin, muscle, and bone, you approach the window in the living room, your steps slow almost as if you were afraid of getting caught. As you look out the window toward Joel’s house, you brace your hands on the windowsill, leaning into them to get a better look. His house at this time of the night was nothing more than a shadow, but you could recount every detail of it by memory. 

You began to gently chew on your bottom lip as a sudden calm came over.

Fuck it. 

Before you could process your decision or think of what the consequence might come from out of this, you were already halfway out the door, barefoot and still in your pajamas. Time seemed to slow as you walked across the empty street and up Joel’s pathway; the overgrown weeds tickling the bottom of your feet with each step. 

Knock, knock, knock.

The wooden door was hard against your knuckles, knocking hard enough so he would hear but wouldn’t be alarmingly loud either. 

For a brief moment, a sliver of consciousness washed over you, the only thing you could hear was your own ragged breaths as the adrenaline continued to rush through your veins and covered your body in a numbing sensation. What are you doing? Your eyebrows drew together. Looking over your shoulder you judged the distance between where you stood and where your front door was. If I leave now, perhaps I can make it back before he gets to the door. The longer you think on it, you realize the opportunity slipping through your fingers. 

The sound of creaking floorboards causes you to turn back toward Joel’s front door and straighten your posture, your chin tilting upward ever so slightly. Your fingers fiddle with each other as you wait for the door to open; on the other side of the barrier, you can hear Joel clear his throat and your heart stalls.

At first, he barely opens the door wide enough for his head to poke through. You take a second to scan his face; he looks confused, still half asleep, but God did he look handsome.

“Hey, um, ” your voice is soft, not quite sure what to say. You shift the weight between your feet as you continue to look at him.

After taking what seemed like forever to process your presence, Joel’s narrowed eyes quickly turn into concern and he opens the door wider revealing his entire body. “Is everything okay?” His voice was rough, laden with sleep. Your breathing hitches, leaving you unable to respond as you take him in before you. Your eyes glaze down from his concerned expression, to his chest hair and down his bare torso, to the top of the band of his blue boxer that looked as if they had been put on in a rush. Your core ignited with an intense heat, your heartbeat picking up in speed. 

You force yourself to swallow despite your throat feeling as if it were closing in on itself. “I can’t sleep…” You shook your head, keeping your eyes fixated on his. “I’m–I’m sorry to bother you so late.” Letting out a sigh you avert your gaze down to your feet. Looking at him was too much for you to handle right now. 

The sigh of relief escaping him made you slowly look back up at him, his shoulders relaxing. Without saying anything else, Joel opens the door completely, stepping aside to allow you to come in. You give him a shy smile in response, butterflies now going rampant in your stomach. 

You wait for Joel to take the lead, not sure what would happen from here. You knew what you wanted to happen, whether it was right or wrong. Perhaps he’d offer you the couch, simply a place to sleep for the night. That’s probably for the best. Or maybe the two of you would talk for a bit and then he’d send you on your way. Fuck, you’re an idiot, you thought, hating yourself now for not thinking this through. Joel had to get up for patrol in the morning and you thought it was a good idea to bother him for your own selfish reasons. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You dig your nails into your palms as a flash of heat runs through your body. 

Joel’s arm brushes up against yours as he passes, leading you further into his home and turning on lights as he goes. You have to force yourself not to look at him or the way his back muscles shift as he walks. Get a hold of yourself, you scold yourself and suck in some very much needed oxygen through your teeth. 

You take everything in as you walk further into his home, it’s been quite a while since you’ve been here. Between the pictures of wildlife to the half finished wood carvings, everything remains the same as you remember; perfectly lived in and a reflection of who Joel is at his core. 

The kitchen light flickers a few times when Joel flips the switch, damn light , his voice comes out as a low mumble. As the two of you approach the table, he pulls out one of the chairs gesturing for you to take a seat. You avoid his gaze, giving him a nod of gratitude before he rounded the corner of the table and headed toward the kitchen cabinets. 

“You want something to drink?” He asks as he grabs two glasses, the side clinking together as he sets them down on the countertop. “Liquor, fresh milk, water…” He only turns back to look at you once he finishes. 

You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks though.” The last thing you need is alcohol, and you were sure that anything that went down would instantly be vomited back up given the fact that your stomach was in the most intense knots you have ever experienced. 

Joel stares at you for a second longer than usual before giving you a single nod, abandoning the glasses on the counter and taking a seat in the chair directly across from you. 

He clears his throat before asking, “Somethin’ botherin’ you?” His tone was genuine. You scoff quietly in response, if only I could tell you , you thought.

You didn’t respond immediately, staring off into the kitchen behind Joel and gathering your thoughts. “There’s…” You didn’t know how to respond or what to say. No, you couldn’t tell him. Or could you? “Yes, I just don’t know… I don’t” You cut yourself off, sucking in some air to challenge the suffocating feeling that manifested in your chest. 

“You don’t want to talk about it?” He says, not intending it as a question. Joel clasps his hands together, resting them on the table. Without looking at him, you slowly nod. “Nothin’ wrong with that.” 

Then a silence fell between the two of you. You didn’t know what else to say, you could barely look at him across the table from you and could feel his stare burning a hole into you. Guilt quickly washed over you and you slightly cringed to yourself before lifting your eyes up to Joel. His gaze was intently fixated on you, an intensity in his eyes you saw only a few times. 

Your lips part, your tongue wetting your dried out lips. “I’m sorry I woke you up for nothing,” Your voice was breathy and barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what to do, so…” 

Joel immediately shook his head before you were even able to finish. “Don’t– no, don’t apologize.” You give him a pitiful smile, though his expression did not break. The two of you stare at each other for what seems like minutes, though in reality it was probably only a few seconds at most. 

“How’s the library comin’ along?” He changed the subject, which you were thankful for. “Sounds like a lot of people are excited for it.” Joel cocked his head. 

“Yeah, probably a dozen people stop by a day just to see when we’ll be done.” You say as you tuck your hands beneath your thighs. “Hardest part is just filling the shelves with books, more tedious than hard though.” Joel was listening with intent. “Tony brought us a ton of books from the run last week, so that was pretty huge. On top of that people have been dropping books off to donate.” 

“It’ll…it’ll be a good addition to Jackson.” Joel responds and you nod.

There was a pause in the conversation, a bit of awkwardness rising in the air. 

“How’s patrol going in my absence?” You inquire, changing the subject. 

Joel let out a low whisper as he adjusted himself in the chair. “Same ol’, same ol’. Don’t tell Tommy I said this, but it’s been nice spending some one on one time with him. It’s been a while since it’s just been us.” He says, a glimmer growing brighter in his eyes. A small smile appeared on his face. “Sort of like old times, when we’d go on fishin’ trips together.” 

You smile at the sentiment, before completely changing your expression. “ Mmmm,” you hum, causing Joel to look at you. His eyes narrow slightly in confusion. “Do I have to worry about you replacing me?” You jokingly narrow your eyes back at him, cocking your head to one side. 

Joel let out a boisterous laugh. “God no, never,” his response was quick with no hesitation. “I say that, but I can only take so much of him… ask me in a few more weeks and I’ll be beggin’ on my hands and knees for you to come back.” 

A smile appeared on your face again, “I won’t make you beg too hard.” Joel instantly locked eyes with you through his brow-line, your stomach jumping at the eye contact. 

“No?” He raised his eyebrow as he spoke, his voice dark but somewhat playful as he gave you a devious smile.

You were the first to drop your gaze, followed up by Joel clearing his throat. 

“Um…” You fill the silence, trying to think of how to converse after that moment. In your peripheral view, you see Joel reach his hand over the table, gesturing toward you. 

“I think about ya’.” His eyes dart around as you look at him, searching for some sort of reaction from you. Everything around you went eerily silent. You raise your eyebrows almost stunned by this confession. All you wanted to say was: You do? However, you waited for him to continue, to take the lead on whatever was about to be said. It seems as if your reaction was enough because Joel nodded. “When I’m doin’ patrol and you aren’t there, at night before I fall asleep,” as he went on, he refused to look at you. From his expression you couldn’t quite tell what his intent was telling you this. “I–I’m…” At this point his head is hanging low, his eyes fixated on the table; he shook his head. “I’ll be right back.” 

His tone was different than before, you sensed a bit of hesitation, perhaps embarrassment. You return with a curt nod, although he didn’t give you a second look before he left and headed toward the stairs. You remained seated at the table as you listened to the thumps of each step he took, and when things went silent, you raised out of the chair. What just happened? Joel’s confession almost seemed unreal, did you imagine that just now? You turned in a circle, your eyes tracking the walls as you spin. Am I dreaming? Your face now twisted in confusion. 

Walking out of the kitchen, you stand  at the bottom of the staircase for a moment looking up. Joel was nowhere in sight. You blow out the air you had been holding on to as you pad over to the living room, turning on the light. Bracing your hand on the threshold, you paused.

It was considerably messy compared to the other parts of the house. A blanket was lazily draped over the back of the couch, the guitar laid on it back on the ground as if he had been playing it and put it there to come back to later. Records were scattered on top of the coffee table, alongside a book laying face down open. 

As you approach the bookshelves on the back wall, you run your hand along the soft blanket and carefully step over the guitar. 

Reaching for a book that had a red-brown leather exterior with silver foil details on the side, your ears perk up when you hear Joel coming down the steps. You remain still, running your fingers over the spine before pulling it out. You hear the floorboards creak as Joel gets closer and closer to the living room, the louder his steps get, the weight in your chest gets heavier. You remain still, not turning toward the entrance to acknowledge his presence. 

Seconds seem to pass by in hours, until you feel his warmth behind you. “You can borrow it if you’d like.” His voice shook slightly as he spoke, your breathing becoming shallow. No words would leave your throat. 

Quickly, you turn to face him, your arm dropping to your side with the book still within your grasp. Joel took a single step toward you, closing the already little distance between your bodies. You brought your hand up to the middle of his chest, placing the palm of your hand flat against him; his heart was beating fast. Out of instinct, your body stiffens, your eyes softening as you lock onto his. 

As you tilt your chin upwards, Joel leans in, his eyelids fluttering as the two of you become closer to one another. Your eyes remain wide open as you relish the sight, total relief overcoming you at what was about to happen. Your tortuous thoughts from earlier completely disappear and burn in the fire that rose in the core of your pelvis. It was just you and Joel right now. Right now that's all that mattered to you. 

Just as his lips met yours, your eyes fluttered shut. Bursts of colors explode beneath your eyelids, and at some point the book slipped from your hands, landing with a dull thud. His hands were all over you now, one fisting at the back of your oversized night shirt, and the other gently caressing the side of your hip. Joel’s lips were soft, his movement a lot more gentle than you imagined on the many nights you couldn’t sleep. Yet, he was still passionate and the intensity made jolts of electricity rush through your body.

You quickly pull back from him, both of your hands holding loosely onto his biceps. He went to lean in again, but you pulled back again. “Tell me you want me to stay,” your voice is barely above a whisper, smooth and alluring. There was nothing more you wanted than this , what was happening right now. After that first dinner with Tommy and Joel, that was the turning point for you and ever since then that– Joel seemingly wanting it as much as you did–it was all you could think about whenever you were around him or when you’d see him at the bar, or across the community. 

Joel’s hands glided down your back before he clasped them together. His eyes shift off to the side before returning to you. You could tell he was contemplating, just like you had earlier; doing this…is it right or wrong? The way his hands press into your lower back told you that he wouldn't be able to resist you, not this time. 

His throat bobs as he looks into your eyes, his eyes softening and his lips parting. No words came out as he leaned into you, placing his forehead on yours. 

Joel nodded and whispers onto your lips, “Stay. ”

chapter eighteen coming soon! (I'm being so fr too, I'm just bad at writing smut and I want it to be perfect so bear with me)

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER FIFTEEN)

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: "..Soldier on, Achilles."

Amnesia is the loss of memory. It can inhibits the formation of new memories and/or the recollection of old ones. Several regions of the brain are involved in the process of memory including the amygdala, hippocampus, cerebellum, and prefrontal cortex. Damage to one or more of these areas can often result in post-traumatic amnesia.

Shizuko sat still, Legs closed and basketed at the end of the table.

The dark spots of his eyes remained enthralled upon the udon bowl before him, Unwavering as he watched the liquid residue of the noodle inside reflect the lights of the small dining room he sat in.

It was like watching fish make ripples in a pond. A quirk on his lips and a scrunch of his face, Tongue bit. He didn't even dare to pick up the lone pair of chopsticks sat beside the bowl, Seemingly went unnoticed by the boy.

Neither did the dim interior of the room, Where the sunlight of the brisk morning just didn't reach the small room. Only spits of radiance shining through the perfect square grid shoji-walls, No thin paper to let the sun from the surrounded garden shine in.

Despite the lack of light, Shizuko scrutinized the Tupperware, Scowling at the meal inside.

"Seriously, What the hell is that thinking face? You're lookin' at your udon like it offended you personally, Aren't you gonna eat it?"

Shizuko jerked his head up at the brash jest coming from across the table. Wide, Owlish eyes glaring back at Genya who spoke them.

Suddenly snapping back into reality, Registering the small dining room that they were located in.

"Mind your business. I'll eat it on my own time, You just focus on yours." Shizuko retorted, Quickly and despondent as he vaguely gestured towards Genya's own majority-eaten portion of Udon.

Shizuko swiftly retracted his hand afterwards, Defiantly tossing his head to the side to stare off somewhere else within the room. Anywhere but at him, Shizuko had better things to think about right now.

Genya's eyes narrowed, The pair of chopsticks entwined between his rough fingers lowered, Dropping into the bowl.

"..You're thinking about what happened back at the old Kakushi Base, Aren't you?" He asked, Knowing the answer not with words but by the way Shizuko snapped his eyes back over to his.

They widened like saucers, Accusatory in stance as he tried to keep his cool.

"Wow, Detective. How'd you figure that one out?" Shizuko retorted, Finally plucking the chopsticks from beside his bowl and scooping up the udon noodle inside. The woollen gloves hugging his hand being the only thing stopping from puking up at the touch.

Genya and Shizuko, The two renowned Tsuguko of Gyomei Himejima. Constantly in competition and combat with each other, Sparring or spat used interchangeably. Ever since they were both younger and in the care of their master, It had been that way.

So with all the time they had been together there was no question that Genya would be able to tell when Shizuko's off, Especially if it had been happening for a few months. Ever since that day in the billowing mountainside, Shizuko had just been.. Strange.

The ticking of his eye tocked a little more often, His sensitive fingertips were just a little more potent. He woke up just a little later, Sloppier when it came to training.

Genya could tell that it irked him.

"Whatever, I'm just saying that it's been months since it happened. I mean, I'm still pissed about it too but I mean.. Come on, Man." He scoffed, Rolling his eyes as he finally tossed down his chopsticks into the finished bowl, Only pungent residue remaining within the ceramic.

The other boy however paused the movements of his own chopsticks, Just before the udon noodle touched his lips.

"It's not like you could understand, You weren't there! You were stuck helping out on evacuations!" Shizuko scowled as he lowered his hand, Troubled face even more gnarly with that expression on his face.

Genya lowered a brow.

"Oh, You're going on about your fight with Upper Six." He said, Starting to sort his used Tupperware into a neat pile. "..You know, Neither you or Himejima-sensei has spoke about it. What did go down there..?"

Genya's follow on was much quieter than his starting statement, Dark eyes honing on Shizuko with a sharp glint. Since the Shrine Invasion neither Shizuko or Gyomei had talked about their brawl with the Uppermoon.

Not a lick or lisp of the event, A seemingly wordless agreement between the two to keep it under wraps. Genya couldn't deny he was curious. Especially since it was the catalyst for his allies discomfort.

Shizuko's lips pursed together, Thinning along with his eyes starting to wander off in what seemed to be thought.

The grip on his chopsticks tightened, Almost snapping them in half.

"..Upper Six, He was.. He was my friend.. Ne, Someone I was raised with and someone I use to consider my brother.." Shizuko whispered, His voice almost a brush in the air or a prayer amongst thousands.

His eyes focused on nothing, Nothing except the blizzard and the electric blue that chased it. Almost possessed, His gloved hand twitched and moved on its own, Covered fingertips raising to near graze his forehead under the mess of his curls.

They were shaking, His fingers. Even more once they brushed against his skin.

"He's.. He's the reason I had my accident, The reason I.. The reason I can't remember anything." His fingers entangled within the wilderness of his hair, Swiftly wrangling back his curls to reveal his forehead.

Large, Swollen and horribly malformed were only the first few words that came to mind. A massive scar where a gash had for no doubt once lain, Shaped like a star and mis-coloured from the rest of his skin, It was hideous and most seemingly painful.

Genya's eyes went ajar. The scar he was aware of through missed strikes of a training sword or a stray gust of wind, All accidents that were quickly covered up.

But now..?

Gloved fingers grasped at the scar on his forehead, Ever so slightly tighter and so absent-mindedly that the disgust of the sensation was forgotten in the moment, Along with the memories of how the scar appeared.

The only thing he recalled from that night was the emotion he felt. Betrayal, Terror and agonising pain. His head bashing against the far wall, Ichor bursting from the wound and the blood loss flowing out along with his memory lost.

That, And his face.

His childhood, Everything before he had came to the old monastery was gone like a drop in the sea. Forgotten in the waves of time, The only thing he remembered..

That touch, That warm touch..

It was divine.

"..I'm sorry." Genya finally spoke up, Much more serious in tone as he looked at him in shock. "I shouldn't of brought it up. Just forget I said anything.."

Shizuko sighed, Hand finally relenting from his forehead as the nauseating feeling of touch returned to him.

"No, You're right. Ngh.. I shouldn't be caught up in it, It's not like Kaigaku means anything to me anymore. He's dead in my eyes, Left us and became a demon.." Shizuko mumbled as he finally returned the udon to his lips, Starting to chew.

Genya shuffled on his knees, Now uncomfortable as the silence returned. The sounds of the early day and the chirp of the crickets in the square garden outside was no longer a comfort, Nor the birds warble in the trees, Just unsettled now.

Shizuko frowned, Sipping up the noodle into his mouth.

"Ne.. Either way, I have another demon to replace him." Shizuko chewed, Now directly gesturing to Genya with his chopsticks. Sly and sarcastic grin spreading his face, Watching as Genya's jaw dropped.

"Eh..?! Oh come on, I thought we were having a good moment there!" Genya exclaimed, A weathered fist slamming down onto the table which made the Tupperware atop shake and clatter together.

Shizuko however, Wasn't as startled as the dishes.

"Why, What's wrong? I'm just stating the obvious here, It's not my fault you're a demon muncher." Shizuko replied with an ever-smug grin on his face to which Genya scoffed at.

"It's not my fault you've got a girls name!" Genya retorted, Scrunch in his nose.

"Hey! It's not mine either, You think I wanted this name? What shitty caregiver I had must've hated me.." Shizuko muttered now with a slight tick to the smugness in his grin, Afterwards tossing the chopsticks onto the table and cupping the bowl to bring it to his lips.

Genya huffed.

"Must have, Though to be fair who wouldn't take one look at you and feel unbearable disgust." He jested, Trying to lighten the mood yet it seemed too heavy to be lifted as Shizuko didn't jab back.

A bad sign, Written in the boldest of inks.

Genya's smile lowered as he lowered his head along with Shizuko's, Awkward tension filling the air now. Shizuko tilted his head upwards towards the wood-panel ceiling, Bowl raising as he felt the savoury liquids enter his mouth.

He took a moment, Leftover toppings of broken seaweed and tofu chunks to chase it. It flooded onto his tongue until there was nothing but running droplets in the ceramic, Shizuko slammed it down with an audible clank!

Shizuko wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his clover-coloured kimono.

"Ngh.. Done." He breathed, Throwing a hand onto the tatami floor (Making sure it was just the start of his palm, Not his fingertips) to push himself up. "..I think I need to go take a walk in the garden for a bit.. I need to clear my head."

Genya blinked.

"Hey.. I didn't actually upset you, Right? You know I didn't mean that, Just said it to piss you off is all.." He admitted as he watched Shizuko get to his feet, Shake his hair until it was in an acceptable position and turn away.

"Ne, I know. I'm just not feeling well, Training from earlier really got to me is all.." Shizuko replied, Not turning back to Genya who still sat though a little more disgruntled than he was before.

He could only watch as his ally dragged his feet over to the sliding door. With practice, Using his elbow to push it open. Shizuko didn't look back at Genya and Genya knew that it wasn't what he said that irked him so.

It was still the Shrine Incident.

Genya wanted to know what really was up with him, But he wasn't exactly the right person to deal with it. He wasn't there, He didn't know his past with the new Upper Six, Nor was he there when he had his accident.

It was best that he stayed out of it, For now at least. Genya picked up the finished dishes, Cupping the Tupperware in his hands and not even getting annoyed at the ones Shizuko had left for him, He had other things to think about.

Genya just hoped Shizuko would search out the man who could cater to his worries. He sighed as he opened the adjacent door the the one Shizuko left from, Carefully balancing the ceramic in his hands, He started to march towards the kitchen.

☆♡☆

"There.. It seems to be all healed now.."

The ever-dim darkness of the false shrine was finally broken by the faint light of a rusty lantern, The amber light flickered against the decaying walls like the ember inside. It sat on her bedside, Right next to the eaten bowl of udon licked clean.

As ever, The infinity castle was cold. But even more so against the bareness of [F/N]'s skin, Her mid-section once kept warm and bound by bandages was now naked, The garments laying in a scarf-like heap on the old floors.

She felt down her stomach where the stitches once were, That life-threatening gash that near took her like and most certainly put her in a weeks long coma. It was a miracle that she was still alive, That she had came out of it without any chronic debility.

So much so that there wasn't even a scar..

"I see.." [F/N] whispered as she laid her cold palm on her equally cold stomach, Shivering in the brisk air, Hair on her nape standing up. A strange sensation as her time was mostly spent within the cold peaks of her Shrine.

Her eyes were focused entirely on her gut, An uneasy-wonder as she looked at the scratch-less skin.

Kokushibo stood only a few metres away from her, The reason the chill had affected her so much in the first place. Her muscles still tense from his presence, That and the fact that she had barely anything on apart from a Koshimaki and a thinnish layer of bandages she had used a chest cover.

His eyes, Six glowing eyes that were even brighter than the faint spark of the lantern-light beside him. They examined her, Her injury or lack-there-of especially. He just stood there silently, Not moving a muscle facial or otherwise.

She knew very well that he wouldn't try anything, No, Whatever obsession he had with her was never like that. But it still made her feel vulnerable and easy to attack. An instinct from her childhood days.

Never leave yourself defenceless..

"..Do you mind if you just.. Leave the room while I change?" [F/N] exasperated, Headache brewing in her mind both from the current situation and what happened yesterday. "No offense, Kokushibo-sama.. But it's just disturbing when you stand there like that.."

Kokushibo's lip twitched, Only a tick.

"..We will be heading off to do your daily training straight after, There would be no point in me leaving.. Either way, It isn't anything I haven't seen before.." Kokushibo replied, Stone-faced and stoic as his voice rumbled in the room.

[F/N] swallowed, Disgust running on her tongue and sweat dripping down her neck yet it hadn't even gotten to the sparring part yet.

"..Right" [F/N] gulped, Swallowing down the nauseating distain pooling and festering in her mouth. "Then if you could just turn around that would be fine, I'd.. I'd just prefer if you weren't watching.."

As soon as the words left her lips, Drifted into the frozen air of the room she had waited for him to turn.

But he didn't.

Kokushibo continued to stand there, Stiller than she was as she waited for him to look away. But instead all six of his eyes continued to linger on her, Wandering away from her injury to her side, Sickly golden slits narrowing.

Had she done something wrong? Was there something she had somehow let out on her persons? What was he looking at..?!

Kokushibo hummed, A single step towards her that sounded like exploding rocks made her repress the urge to back away. His hand reached out, Slow like a knife preparing to cut. Talons and all as they grazed her side.

A burning pain shot through her side, [F/N]'s muscles tensed up.

"I wonder.. How did you get an injury like this?" Kokushibo drawled as he examined the bruised skin, Slightly tugging her around so he could get a better look at where Akaza had jabbed into her.

Her saving shot, Or whatever it would be called, The one where he broke his vow to hurt a woman but aided her all the while.

[F/N] would've rolled her eyes if it wasn't for the ice currently running through her blood.

"It's.." [F/N] directed her eyes away from Kokushibo, Tounging at the side of her mouth to try and come up with some explanation she could tell him.

Tell him that she tried to commit suicide? Her captor of all people? [F/N] still felt a deep regret burning in her for telling Akaza, Her state of mind warped back then, She wished she had just kept her mouth shut.

So there was no way that she would ever tell Kokushibo. Not like he "sympathised" with her or whatever, Not like he still had some inkling of humanity in him unlike Akaza.

No, He was just a monster.

"You still haven't told me how you injured your wrist.. Is there something you aren't telling me?" Kokushibo mumbled as his eyes snapped over to her bandaged hand, The injury she had caused when she had punched a wall into the shrine's structure.

His gaze sharpened.

"..I do hope that my Tsuguko hasn't garnered any.. Distasteful feelings for your prescence here again. Tell me, How did you gain these injuries..?" Kokushibo lowered himself so that his eyes met with hers, Stabbing, Piercing into her.

Her lips thinned.

"..I tripped down the stairs, Hit my side and my fist at the same time. You know, Kokushibo-sama, You should see to getting some kind of banister lining them.. This isn't the first time I near fell down them.." [F/N] responded, Snake's tongue speaking quick and somewhat formal yet she still refused to look at him.

Though for some reason, The lies she use to taste didn't come so sour anymore.

"..Ah, So my comment about your footwork wasn't taken to heart then.." Kokushibo remarked, Referencing his constant jabs at her apparently flawed "footwork". He retracted his hands, And [F/N] tried not to scrunch her nose up.

Was he trying to make some kind of joke?

[F/N] just silently stared at the floor, Almost waiting for his next move as he stepped back away from her. The air much more thick, The consistency of tar. She didn't laugh, Neither did Kokushibo as he continued to stare dead at her.

[F/N] kept her eyes on the floorboards, Not looking up at him. Kokushibo breathed out.

"..Go get ready. It is time for you to test your strength once more.." He spoke, Stepping back just a little further, Feeling the depression of the floorboards move away to the other side of the room.

[F/N] sighed, Shivering once more within the nipping atmosphere of the Shrine. Shaking off the still aching bruise on her side, She scoffed once she realised Kokushibo had turned his back to her, Giving her some semblance of privacy.

Sparring, Even though he knew she was injured. [F/N] stumbled over to the closet not even a metre away. Kokushibo didn't even bat a single eye, And he had many. [F/N] asked herself why he even wanted to clash swords with her.

He knew she was strong, She fought against him a few months ago as a formidable opponent. [F/N] fished out her old samue set, The one she used often to train in. Now she had been turned into nothing but a caged animal to be poked with by sticks.

He didn't need to test her strength, She was cursed with it. [F/N] was the one who killed a thousand of his kind, The one who gave him a run for his own money, The one who fought Upper Three barehand on this very roof for fuck-sakes!

Maybe he liked torturing her, That was it.

[F/N] pulled the trouser half of the samue up from her ankles to her waist, Slipped her arms through the loose-fabric sleeves. She folded it over her, Set it in place. Making sure everything was fine, She dusted it off.

It wasn't like she didn't deserve the beat-downs, It's not like she didn't want him to go too far one day. She deserved it after all, The blood of hundreds still ran down her. It's why she couldn't bare to look in the mirror, To catch a glimpse of that red.

She strained her eyes away even now, Much preferring to turn back to Kokushibo and tell him that she was done. Kokushibo cocked his head to the side, Examining her up and down before he wordlessly stepped out of the door.

[F/N] didn't need words to understand he wanted her to follow, She did soundlessly, Just wanting to get this over with.

☆♡☆

The light filtered through the diamond-like holes in the walls, A designed pattern meant to illuminate the estate during the day.

The air was cool, Not the kind on a summers day but instead the faint chill of a golden hour autumn. A strong wind to blow through the hair and fabric of anyone caught in it. It was strange since it was the middle of spring, But the mix of both leaving summer heat and oncoming winter cold made it feel like it was much later in the year than it actually was.

Shizuko stumbled through the hallways, Wooden floorboards depressing under his minimum weight. He had traversed the rather linear hallways thousands of times, Yet he felt lost in his gait, A direction unknown.

He gazed towards the gardens, Barely lifting his head to catch glimpses of the carefully trimmed bushes and miniature lakes within. It was surrounded by the rest of Himejima's estate, A sort of plaza kept safe in the squared layout of the house.

He watched the water of the tiny stream trickle along the garden, Watched as the carefully made buddha statues held the aqua in their palms and guided it on their course. The reeds and the rye-grass all a vibrant green.

Shizuko sighed, Scrunching up his face. Genya bringing up his incident with Upper Six seemed to make him much more irked than he had previously thought. Now some weight was placed upon his chest, Now some throb came through the abrasion on his head.

The faraway aria of the birds wasn't anything that could calm him, Not right now. Nor the crickets chirp or the trickle of stream, Everything was just so.. Numbing now. It made him grimace as he paced the halls.

His memory was perfect. If you picked out a date, Any year, Any month, Any day. He could tell you exactly what he did as if it was written out plain as day. What he ate for breakfast, A word for word recite of the conversation he had with his master, Or even how many birds flew past him that day.

But he couldn't remember that.

Ever since his head was cut and mauled, He couldn't recall a single day before then. He might as well have just appeared one day. Everything before then was just a blur, Just one hot mess.

Except.. For that one feeling. The one that he felt on his hands as if it was yesterday, The only touch he could ever tolerate, Or even yearn for. It felt otherworldly, Comforting. That person of muddled face was like a god themselves, Elusive and unobtainable.

Shizuko wanted to know who they were, Who that person really was. But Shizuko didn't know who, Or where to even start looking. His master hadn't known either, Just recalling he had been left at their doorstep one day.

His master.

Shizuko stopped in his walk, A stumbled halt as he finally pulled his head over to the door beside him.

It was his master's private room he had built to pray in, The one always shadowed by the dark and candle-light was shown like stars in the night. Shizuko paused as he looked at the door, Faintly hearing the chants of sutras inside.

He was there, His master was inside.

Shizuko made an effort to be quiet, Careful not to step on any of the floorboards he knew would creak. He steadied himself on the doorframe, Leaning over so he could peer through the crack in the door.

And there he was, In all of his glory.

Shizuko could only see the back of his saturated-lime haori, The one emboldened with kanji. He saw his prayer beads and heard the faint clacking of them hitting each other, The sutra's also getting much louder.

Shizuko debated whether he should knock or not, Whether he should disturb him as he prayed at the candle-lit altar. Gyomei probably didn't want to talk about it, Hell, Shizuko didn't want to either-

"..You can come in."

Shizuko's eyes widened, Just now realising the sound of the beads clacking and his sutra's had went silent.

Gyomei turned his head to the side, And even though he was blind, Shizuko could swear that he was staring right into him with those white-out eyes. Gyomei waited, Shizuko barely snapped out of it before he answered.

"..R-Right, Sir." Shizuko stammered as he pushed open the door, Bowing down low in a sign of respect before stepping in. Gyomei turned around on his knees, Facing him now with his hands still together in prayer.

Shizuko closed the door only slightly behind him, The darkness becoming all the more present as he stood there awkwardly in front of his master.

He sighed.

"..I'm sorry for bothering you during your prayer, Himejima-sensei." Shizuko started, Formal in tone as he bowed once more to the man. "I just wanted to talk to you is all. I.. I have a lot of stuff on my mind right now."

The beads surrounding Gyomei's hands chattered together, Gyomei seeming to take in his words.

"I see.. Then please, Let me ask what bothers you so.. It would not be wise to keep it to yourself.." Gyomei advised in his ever-solemn tone, Bowing down slightly before gesturing him to sit down.

Shizuko nodded and took his offer, Hurrying over to the empty spot in front of the man and sitting himself down neatly atop it.

After settling down and the curls of hair were parted from his eyes, He took a moment for himself. Still hearing the crackle of the candle fire in the back, He listened to it for only a second as if trying to find the words to say.

"Begin whenever you like.." Gyomei assured, Nodding once in encouragement to his Tsuguko.

Shizuko sighed.

"Thank you.. It's just I've been thinking a lot lately, You know.. About the night at the Kakushi Base?" He explained, Slightly hesitant as he eyed the older man for his reaction.

Gyomei's frown deepened, Sharpening as the soft clacking of the beads started to pick up. Shizuko deflated, Knowing he had stricken a cord somewhere.

"..Ah, Yes.. I suppose I should have known that we would have this conversation one day, In fact.. I believe I even might have been expecting it ever since that accursed day in the snow.." Gyomei admitted, Slowly nodding to his words.

Shizuko bit his lip, Vision seemingly elsewhere as he tried to hold back the spill of words.

"I-I mean.. Kaigaku.. How could he do something like this? How could he become the thing that killed our family, My siblings..! Did we just not matter to him?" Shizuko scoffed. "Of course we dont.. How could I say that he gives a shit when he went and became a people-eater?"

Shizuko muttered, Suddenly forgetting his manners as he spoke. Knuckles near popping as he gripped the hems of his green haori, Near ripping the fabric in two at the memory. Gyomei hummed, Brows furrowing.

"Kaigaku has always been troubled.. He stole, He thieved and he robbed.. But he always did it for the sake of us, Shizuko. Kaigaku has become undesirable and an enemy to the corps. But I admit.. I do have blame to take for the way he has turned out." Gyomei spoke, Growing much softer.

Shizuko finally looked up at the man, Staring him dead in the face. Disbelieving as he shook his head, Barely hiding a scoff.

"Ne, Kaigaku was always a rat.. You had no part to play in it, Sensei. He deceived us, He lied to us, He used us for money! He.." Shizuko croaked, Teeth starting to bare as he resisted the urge to grasp his head. "H-He let that demon maul my face.."

Gyomei's lips thinned as he listened on to his Tsuguko's words, Hearing as his talk start to become a rant.

"..I understand, That night was the worst one of your entire life.. And it was mine too. When I laid my fists upon the demon that killed my kids, When I found out of what Kaigaku had done.. I felt rage, I felt anger at everything that denounced my Buddhist vows, I felt rage towards Kaigaku and his ignorant actions.." Tears now started to flood faster down his cheeks, Hot as they dripped onto his hands of prayer.

His frown sharpened.

"But looking back, I know I should have discouraged that boy.. I had chose to forget of his thieving actions because we needed the money. I knew he was troubled and chose to ignore it.. It is my fault that he turned out as such." Gyomei finished, The sorrow in his voice much more potent.

Shizuko couldn't supress a sneer anymore.

"..Every time I bring him up, You always take blame for his actions! You keep saying that he was just troubled- Why can't you just accept that he's a monster? Both now and then?!" Shizuko spat, Pushing himself up to the floor now with a single hand.

Gyomei turned his head up towards where he had stood, Proceeding to follow him up to the floor as he got onto his feet, Easily overshadowing the boy before him. Shizuko

He knew he had to diffuse this quickly.

"Shizuko, It's a complicated an-"

"I DON'T WANT ANOTHER EXCUSE!" Shizuko finally whipped his head to look up at him with angry eyes, He was pissed, Knuckles near popping as he tried to get up in the face of the admittedly taller man. Shizuko seethed.

"I don't want some stupid explanation as for why Kaigaku was just troubled! Or- Or- Deserving of sympathy! E-Even back then you refused to kill him, Even though he's a demon!" Shizuko cried, Starting to stumble over his words as he bared his teeth at his master.

"I-Isn't that what you keep harping about? Our duty as a demon slayer being to kill every last one? Not to rest until you do?" Shizuko reiterated, Shaking his head as he approached him "Y-You could've just killed him back in the snow, But you didn't.."

"I couldn't kill one of my kids.. Shizuko. Not you nor Kaigaku, No matter how far he may have fallen.." Gyomei lamented, Shaking his head. "You know how much it pains me to kill.. To go against my vows as a monk."

"So what?! He's a demon now, Not a human being! You said it yourself, You insulted him too!" The younger jabbed, Incredulous, Looking at the man with ire and confused anger.

Shizuko stepped back, Looking at the man he admired with such unfound before disgust. What respect was usually given was held back now, Only giving venomous looks that Gyomei could only feel burning into him.

Kaigaku, The person now demon that was the reason his family was dead, Why that monster mutilated his face. Why couldn't his master understand that? That he should be just as angry as he was.

Gyomei on the other hand, He had foresaw this coming, He had for months. He knew that this talk had to happen eventually and thus kept himself calm, Not a muscle tensed or ticked.

He tried to reach out a hand, To place on Shizuko's shoulder.

"-I said it so you could get behind him without him noticing." Gyomei corrected "..I feel rage at the boy, I promise you that I do.. But I should not let it get the better of me, Not like it did back on that horrid day.." Gyomei deplored. And if Shizuko looked close, He could see his hands-in-prayer start to shake.

The feeling of fists on flesh, Beating the bloody pulp of that demon into the ground until the sun hit his face. It was gorey, The feeling of hot blood spurting out onto his knuckles. He had never felt so fallen from grace before, Not before he truly found out how strong he was.

Even now he felt the blood trickle down his fingers just like it was yesterday, Like it was still there..

But now he felt Shizuko slap away the hand he offered him, Consumed by the moment and his enraged heart. Gyomei could only feel sorrow for the boy as he continued.

"Y-You keep saying stuff you don't mean, It wasn't even just at the shrine! You.. Why can't you just understand that he's the reason that our family is dead..! H-He's the reason that I lost my memories.. He's.." Shizuko's rage, The one that spilled out in rage started to turn out in tears.

They started to speckle his eyes, His mouth growing more humid by the moment as his lungs started to burn.

His face was still snarled, The candles embers still burning bright even as they flickered. The darkness of the room barely covered the anguish behind his voice.

"Y-You don't even know where the hell I came from..!" Shizuko mourned, Voice wheezing and choking from his throat. The tears in his eyes started to build, Boiling like a pot, Stinging him.

Gyomei sighed, Stepping towards him.

"Please just-!" Shizuko stammered, His voice dying down to a near whisper before the tears finally spilled over his eyes.

"..J-Just tell me who the hell I am."

Gyomei reached out once more, And this time Shizuko didn't argue once he felt the firm hand of his mentor grasp his shoulder.

He was shaking like a leaf, A rare moment when his resolve started to tremble like a tree in a storm. Shizuko's fists were balled yet he threw no punches, Only dropped his head down to stare at them as he tried not to weep harder than he already was.

Gyomei's hand squeezed his shoulder, A single thumb rubbing circles into it. His touch was unfortunately revolting, Making Shizuko tense up. But despite the disgust coursing through his veins, He didn't shake it off.

He didn't want to, Even though it made him want to sob even harder.

"..I'm sorry, I wish I could give you the answer that you desire but that is not for me to give." Gyomei assured, His voice was soft yet it sounded so loud within the darkness of the prayer room.

"..Who you are is for you to decide. My rage got the best of me once, And it almost became who I was. But I never let it consume me.. And I have tried so very hard to make sure it never happens again." Gyomei spoke "So please.. Trust me when I say that who you are is who you choose to become.. Neither your lost memories or your anger define you, Not unless you let them.."

Shizuko sniffled.

"B-But that's just it, Isn't it?" Shizuko croaked, Wiping his tears on the sleeve of his yukata. "I do remember just the tiniest bit.."

Gyomei's eyebrows knitted together, The thumb rubbing circles into his shoulder halted, Just for a moment.

"..Whatever do you mean?" Gyomei asked.

"T-There's someone out there that knows who I use to be. There's someone out there who held my goddamn hand.. And hell, It felt nice." Shizuko admitted as the dried tears quickly became replaced, Falling down quicker once that otherworldly warmth came back to him.

Gyomei however, Whatever reaction Shizuko had been expecting from him. Shock, Intrigued, Happy that he had at least some memories. And sure, There was some of that there but it was taken over by something else.

Something more.. It was something more hesitant.

Shizuko caught onto it immediatley, Observant eye able to pick up the oddities in his expression.

He sniffled, Scrunching up his face as he shook the newly born tears off.

"..You.. You don't know who that is, Right?" Shizuko asked, Stutter still in his voice yet more pronounced and steady now. Gyomei thinned his lips, The intensity in his muscles becoming much more visible.

"Shizuko.." Gyomei drawled which just made Shizuko move forward, Eyes on him like a hawk, Not letting them wander for a second. The way he was acting, Though difficult to see in the dark.. He knew something.

"..Master." Shizuko replied, Slowly and with intent as he carefully eyed the taller man who was currently in debate of his own. Stiff as the statues he prayed to at the altar behind him, Cold stone on his face as he played out the discourse in his head.

He recalls the conversation he had with Kanroji back at the Hashira Meeting, When they had discussed [F/N] and her relation to Shizuko as his older sister. It was a good while ago now, But he still felt confused by it all.

Everything. How he was simply tossed on the temples doorsteps as a child, How he spoke of an older sister. Knowing now that it was [F/N], A colleague he had allied with for years, It shone an entire new light on everything now..

Yet somehow, He was still in the dark.

"Shizuko.. " Gyomei muttered, His morals at war.

"Alright then.. But keeping lies is against my morals and good concious, If he does ask about anything pertaining to this then I will not lie to him.. And I do hope you tell him in due time, Kanroji-san"

It was against his morals and his good concious, It would be a sin to lie to him. But on the other hand.. How could he possibly begin to explain to him something Gyomei couldn't even explain himself?

"Master.. Please. Tell me, Do you know something..?" Shizuko whispered, As faint as the candles waning. His eyes scanned over every facial feature, Ones he had learned the ticks and tocks to. "Do you.. You do, You do know something..!"

There was no way around it. No avenue or alleyway he could divert down to direct the conversation to a different topic. He needed to be honest, Be truthful. That was what his principles spoke of, Right?

"Shizuko.. I've been meaning to tell yo-"

"CAW CAW!"

The call of that all too familiar beast called out, Followed by a sudden sound of what seemed to be rapid tapping at one of the room's window frames.

Gyomei instantly snapped his head over to where the sound was coming from, Where the window was hidden behind several rich tapestries depicting stories from his religion. Suddenly feeling awkward, Shizuko stared as his master moved towards the window, Peel back the tapestries and let light flood into the room.

It was blinding compared to the shadow the room was bathed in, Making Shizuko stammer back and raise a hand to cover his eyes. Gyomei, Unaffected, Slid the window-shutter open to reveal the crow behind them.

It's feathers shone under the afternoon light, Light near rolling off them. Once Shizuko got use to the light he finally recognised the crow as Kamakiri, The Insect Hashira's crow, One he had often seen flying around in Corps Area's he often loitered around in.

Her beak snapped once, The little butterfly charm around her neck shaking as she spoke.

"CAW CAW! STONE HASHIRA HIMEJIMA GYOMEI! YOU HAVE BEEN ASKED TO MEET AT THE BUTTERFLY MANSION ON THE REQUEST OF MY MASTER, INSECT HASHIRA KOCHO SHINOBU!"

Kamikiri's voice was loud, Echoing out throughout the entire room as she delivered her message. Gyomei hummed, Rattling the beads snaking around his hands.

"For what reason..? Did your master give you any cause?" Gyomei asked.

"NO REASON WAS GIVEN HOWEVER IT WAS STATED TO BE IMPORTANT! CAW CAW! DO YOU ACCEPT THE INVITATION?" Kamikiri squaked once more, Flapping her wings once in the radiant light and waiting for his response.

Gyomei lowered his brows, Seemingly taking in the words as the beads around his hands clacked together like heeled shoes on the floor. He wasn't summoned often, Especially not by another Hashira..

"..Yes. I will set off to The Butterfly Mansion as soon as I can.. Please tell Kocho-san I will be there by the next morning at the latest.." Gyomei spoke softly, Lowering down into a bow with his hands still pressed in prayer.

Kamikiri did the same, Mimicking the same bow a human would do but on her talons. Once she raised back up however, She squawked out a goodbye before she flapped her wings once more, Turned around and took off out the windowsill.

Gyomei raised from his bow too, Reaching back up to his full height. Shizuko watched as Kamikiri soared into the air, Wind was no obstacle to her as he watched her surge out onto the horizon. And once she was gone, He snapped his head back around to his master.

"..Shizuko, We will need to continue this conversation later.." Gyomei finalized as he resettled the heavy haori over his shoulders, Adjusted the shirt of his uniform and fixed his belt.

Shizuko knitted his brows, Stepping forward.

"Wait! Can't you just finish what you were about to say? About what you were going to tell me?" Shizuko gawked as Gyomei finished adjusting his clothing, Turning his head over to the younger boy. He sighed, Frown thickening.

"Later.. I promise you that I will answer you in due time, When I get my words in order.. But right now I must leave." Gyomei assured, Taking a few steps towards his apprentice and bowing down slightly towards him.

And when Shizuko looked in his uncoloured eyes, He knew he had fucked up.

Shizuko didn't react, Just looked up at him. The thundering of his heart started to slow, What storm inside starting to dwindle at the action his master took. Shizuko suddenly became aware of the past conversation, What disrespect he had shown.

He had let his emotions take over, His anger consuming him. He had yelled at his master, The one he had grew up with and the one he had trained under for who knows how long? Forget that forgotten memory, Just for a second, He needed to focus on the person he remembered.

Shizuko sniffled, The last of his tears drying.

"I.. I'm sorry, Himejima-sama." He spoke, Returning to his formal tone through his shaky voice. He lowered down into a bow, Just like his master did before. "I shouldn't of been so disrespectful to you, Please, Forgive me."

Gyomei sighed but eventually a small smile came to his face, Something now illuminated by the newly moved tapestries. He moved forward just a step towards him, The candlelight still burning bright in the back.

"You do not need to worry.. I understand." He spoke. "I will be heading out now.. But in the meantime, Please go and rest.. I know how hard you have been working lately, Do not overwork yourself.. It is poison to the body."

Shizuko looked up, Taking a moment to look upon his face before nodding.

"Yes, Himejima-sama.." He spoke, Almost as low as the wind drifting in from the window. Gyomei nodded towards him, Turning around before striding off towards the door, Hands still pressed together in prayer.

He said his goodbyes, Leaving Shizuko alone within the room. His only company was the cantata of the birds outside, The flicks of the flames on the votives and his own screaming head.

Shizuko turned to the open window, The tapestries still peeled back from the usually covered opening. He looked out into the gardens outside, The tree's swaying in the open wind.

Gyomei knew something, Something Shizuko had been longing for his entire life. But how could Shizuko have been so brash when asking about it? He had just let wrath come to him, Let it burn him.

It seemed like that had been happening more and more lately, Becoming bitter about the slightest thing and not the orderly soldier he was suppose to be. But he couldn't fret, Once Gyomei was back he could fix this.

Shizuko felt a throb in his chest, Gyomei actually knew something. The look on his face told him everything he needed to know. Well, Not everything, But he knew that Gyomei was hiding something from him.

And hopefully that answer would fix his irritability.

☆♡☆

"ACK-"

[F/N] tossed around in the air, Launched back by another one of his strikes. And just as all the training sessions before, Her body slammed against the wall of the far courtyard. As always she was defeated, Tumbling to the ground with her training sword flying out of her hand.

Hands gripped into the ground, Lifting her aching head only slighty just to sputter up more blood.

"As always.. Your footwork is lacking.." The voice of her captor called out from the otherside of the courtyard, [F/N] could almost feel the smugness showing through his stoic tone. It made her grit her teeth, Blood dripping down her busted lip.

She scoffed, Tasting the iron on her tongue.

"U-Understood, Kokushibo-sama.." [F/N] spat out, Ichor decorating the floor where she cursed him under her breath. Shaky hands pushed down, Levelling her up to her knees where she tried not to collapse once more.

Kokushibo stood under the great tree in the middle, His golden eyes piercing through the shadow to stare at her. He watched as she picked up her fallen sword, Dust off her dirty Samue and wipe the blood from her lips.

They narrowed in on her, Almost disappointed.

"Pick yourself up, Our session here today is done.." He simply stated, Sliding the flesh-forged blade of his sword into its sheathe. And without a word, [F/N] watched as he turned away.

And as soon as she blinked, He was gone.

[F/N] groaned, Hands going to grapple at her side. Akaza really didn't hold back there, Neither did Kokushibo as he mercilessly sliced at her. He didn't go easier on her despite her injuries.

[F/N] knew that she'd have a few more bruises to show for it, And she cursed Kokushibo out all the same.

She pushed herself to her feet, Stretching as she raised her arms into the air. [F/N] tried not to cringe once she felt that pain in her side, Almost like her ribcage was settling back into place.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

That bastard, [F/N] thought as she sauntered over to the tree. These sessions were completely pointless, Him telling her that it was "Training" which made absolutely no sense. She was a slayer, So called the strongest alive.

He knew this, He didn't care. [F/N]'s knees shook once she finally got under the tree's shadow, Too tired to even walk as she pressed her back against the stump. [F/N] slid down until she was nestled within the thick roots, Held high atop the little grassy hill.

[F/N] let out a sigh, She just wanted to sleep.

And she almost did, Eyelids fighting to stay vigilant. She had only woken up about an hour ago yet she still felt exhausted.

Haze started to set over her vision, Curtains closing as she felt her body grow limp.

"Hey."

[F/N] blinked.

"Oh.. It's you." [F/N] yawned, Rolling her shoulders as she propped herself up against the tree. A good few metres away from her stood Akaza in all his glory, Stature tall as his eyes narrowed in on her. Akaza rolled his eyes.

"Of course it's me, Who the hell did you expect it to be?" He scoffed as he took a few steps towards her, Something gripped tightly in-between his knuckles as he went.

[F/N] didn't respond, Only curling up into herself tigher. She seemed to bury herself into the roots of the tree, Not meeting his eyes. She didn't want to, Especially once she felt the heat of them burn into her figure.

Akaza's brows furrowed.

"Okay.. Fuck it- But are we gonna talk about what happened yesterday? I mean, Come on. Are we just gonna ignore your suicide attempt? Not talk about it at all?" Akaza took a few steps closer, Only making [F/N] curl up further.

[F/N] winced. Of course he was going to bring it up.

"I don't want to talk about it, I wasn't in the right mind back then. Just- Ignore everything we talked about. I was tired, I was bitter about being here.. I was just being stupid. Just forget it, Okay..?!" She hissed, A defensive snarl starting to appear on her lips.

Akaza just stepped closer towards her.

"But are you fine now?" He asked, Raising a brow at her. She stared at him, Only for a second. The shoulders [F/N] held up like a barricade started to lower, Leave it up to [F/N] to get defensive over a question, One that she knew was due to be asked.

She sighed.

"..Now, Yeah." [F/N] replied quietly, Still unable to meet his eyes. Akaza took a moment to look into her eyes, The ones that didn't look back at his. He almost didn't believe her, But unlike yesterday her fighting spirit wasn't roaring like it use to. No, It was completely dead now.

"..Right." Akaza said, Finally sauntering up the little hill and setting down the rectangular box he had been holding in his hands. Handle clattering into its normal position once he let go of it.

[F/N] blinked, Snapping her head over to look at the noise.

"Erm.. What's that?" She asked, Hesitantly eyeing it up and down like a ticking bomb.

"Food. If you want to get out of here and fool Upper One, You're doing it on a fighter's diet." Akaza replied as he kneeled down towards the wooden box, Starting to peel off the lid from the top.

[F/N] grimaced.

"I'm not hungry." She replied quickly as she watched Akaza open the box, Letting the aromatic smell of perfectly cooked fish and other delicacies inside flow out. [F/N] tried not to salivate at the scent of it, Not daring to look at it either. Slightly suprised that he had brought food for her.

Akaza shook his head.

"No, You're gonna eat it." He stated, Almost as if she had digested it already. "It's got everything you'll need to scale the Infinity Castle, This is the standard that your weight-class and gender should get."

[F/N] bit her lip.

"Yeah well.. I've just not been that hungry lately. Thank you but.. You can have it." She replied, Shaking her head as she smelt the scent of fish come from it. Seeing the enticing shimmer of the fish scales inside, She tried not to give in.

And fuck.. She was starving.

"I can't eat human food, Idiot. Besides, I can basically see you drooling there." Akaza scoffed as he watched her take peeks at the food "You look starving. Are you seriously gonna waste food?"

[F/N] quirked a lip, Already regretting telling him about her childhood. Dirty tricks, But there weren't much else he could play. Swallowing down the excess of her saliva, She finally turned her head to look at him.

"I hate you for this, You know that? Right?" [F/N] hissed as she reached a hand down towards the box, Bare hands starting to grab fistfuls of rice and fish-meat cutlets from within the neatly packed bowls.

"There's cutlery there.. Oh." Akaza trailed off once he saw her shove handfuls of rice and meat into her mouth, Bare-handed and she didn't care that she looked like a rabid beast choking down meat into their maw.

It matched the rest of her appearance. Her ragged hair, Her dirtied skin and clothes. Even her eyes had a wild look in them as she scarfed down her meal and wipe the excess off her samue's sides, Eyebags protruding them from her face.

Akaza almost gagged if not for remembering how he did the same thing, Only with human meat of course.

"So.. " Akaza started, Continuing to watch her scoop handfuls of mixed food and shove them into her mouth. "About that thing with Upper One.."

[F/N] choked down another chunk of rice, Wiping her mouth on her sleeve before looking up at him.

"What thing?" She asked.

"..You know? The idea that I suggested and the one you agreed to? To get closer to Upper One?" Akaza raised his brows, Watching as [F/N] narrowed her eyes before shoving another fistful into her mouth.

"Oh- Yeah, That thing.." [F/N] said through her chewing, Almost deflating once he reminded her. She had been hoping to avoid it but..

"So? How's that coming along?" Akaza asked, Folding his arms as he watched her scarf down her meal. [F/N] shook her head, Lowering her gaze away from him as she swallowed down her food.

Fuck.. She loathed how disgustingly delicious it tasted.

"..Come on, How exactly am I suppose to get along with him? He's an unfeeling prick.. I doubt he even has any emotions I could appeal to.." [F/N] groaned, Shaking her head at the mere prospect of him having feelings.

"You said he's fucking obsessed with you, So appeal to that?" Akaza exasperated, Shrugging his shoulders.

[F/N] rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Yeah, Right.. Let me just start acting nice and loving to him all of a sudden, I'll just start pretending that I actually like him. I'm sure he won't notice somethings up at all!" [F/N] sneered, A malicious smile spreading across her face which she proudly displayed to Akaza.

He sneered back, Shaking his head at her behaviour.

"Oh come on! How about you shut it and actually try make some leeway here, Eh? I'm not saying you should start liking it immediately, I'm saying that you try and work away at it." Akaza snapped, Stepping closer to her until he finally got to her side.

[F/N] stared up at him, His eyes made all the more prominant as they shone through the tree's shadows, Glaring back at her. [F/N] dropped her malicious smile in favour of a frown, Finally turning away from him.

"..Whatever, I'll figure it out." [F/N] finally spat, Wiping away the last of the foods residue from her mouth. Rice bits shook off her hands as she finally deflated back against the tree, [F/N] didn't have the patience to argue.

Akaza in turn, Lowered his snarl once he saw her start to shrink in on herself.

He felt a sort of pull in his chest, One that he instantly shrugged off in favour of kneeling down and sitting back down beside her with a grunt.

[F/N] watched as he pushed his half-naked back up against the trunk, Bare feet entwined with the overgrown grass. He didn't look at her, Just stared off somewhere far-off and pulled his knees near his chest.

She gazed at his features for a second. His gaunt skin to contrast with the deep navy stripes running across it, The way his pinkish hair drifted in the air. [F/N]'s nose twitched, He had no right to be demanding.

But whatever.

[F/N] turned back to stare in her own designated place, Nowhere in particular, But somewhere she could just relax back against the tree and take in the air. The air that was fresh, The air that brought her back to her senses.

The only warm place in this entire place, The heart of the shrine. Despite the coldness surrounding it, It flourished anyways. Despite the harsh environment it endured, It was still thriving. [F/N] breathed in the air.

It was nice.

"..You still haven't finished your food."

"Fuck you."

☆♡☆

The skies were orange, A pungent shade of burgundy into citron set over the small township.

The wind was crisp, Cool to anyone caught in it. Birds warbling an aubade could be heard in the trees, Crickets joining in for the chorus in the new morn. People were out in the streets, Walking by and happily conversing with one and other as they went.

Gyomei walked brisk, Short hair dancing with his haori waving within the wind. The Butterfly mansion was large, The biggest property in town so it gave him plenty room to just stride throughout the place unbothered.

But a walk wasn't what he was here for, No, Instead it was the Insect Hashira who seemed to be nowhere about. Despite asking around, Mostly from that Kanzaki woman and the three little girls that followed her, They had no idea where Shinobu was either.

So here he was, Wandering throughout the lavish gardens of the mansion. Striding past crops of fresh veg and tree's filled with fruit and fauna. The air was something Gyomei could appreciate, Something he almost stopped to enjoy within the daybreak.

He breathed out.

"..Himejima-san!"

A voice called out from somewhere above, Somewhere that Gyomei tilted his head up towards. On top of the tiled roof of The Butterfly Mansion, Sat Shinobu perched upon the edge.

She smiled down at him, Soft and delicate. Glossy eyes honing in on him.

"Kocho-san..!" Gyomei called out to her, Soft as a yell could be as he pressed his hands in prayer. "You summoned me here for something important.. Not explained by your crow.. Please, Do you mind telling me the reason I have came today..?"

Shinobu hummed. Luckily for her, The part of the roof she was perched on was rather low. Somewhere she could easily make her way down from, Which is exactly what she did as she nudged herself off.

Shinobu almost drifted, Butterfly haori glistening in the orange light as her feet hit the ground with a barely audible thud.

But Gyomei's hearing was impeccable, Now fully turned to the direction of where she had landed. Listening to the soft patter of her footsteps as she made her way over to him.

"Yes, Yes.. I must apologise for the lack of information as I sent my crow out rather hastily, I'm sorry for acting so rash.. It's not like me to do so~!" Shinobu sang as she came closer to him, Pausing in front of the man before bowing herself down lowly in respect.

Gyomei, Sensing the action. Reciprocated as he lowered himself in response.

Shinobu rose.

"The reason I asked you to come here today is because I got a rather interesting tip-off from my crow!" Shinobu announced, Hand raising before going under her haori.

"You see, I had sent out my crow a few days ago to a village in Fukushima. He was tasked with purchasing some specific herbs that I needed from that region, But unfortunately things didn't go exactly as expected.."

Gyomei lowered his brows, The beads around his hands starting to chatter.

"Yes..? And what exactly happened..?"

Shinobu's smile widened, Yet her eyes darkened all the same.

"My crow was intercepted by a man in the village when he had went to pick up the herbs- He had fastened a rather interesting letter around her neck, One that I think that would interest you.." She drawled out as she watched his expression change.

Gyomei, A man of not many expressions simply stiffened his figure. A man had targeted a Kasugai crow? Of course, Demons were known to try and attack crows during the night. But a man? A human man? And of all things had wrapped a letter around it's neck and sent it on it's way.

Shinobu's expression was bright, Just as scorching as the sun that silhouetted her. Smile stretched on her face, Yet her eyes contained such thanatoid dullness. Something dark brewing within.

Something that even Gyomei could feel, An unease going through him.

Shinobu fished out the letter from within her haori pockets, Hair dancing in the faint wind as she unscrolled the spotless fibre from it's shape. Though she didn't mean to read it aloud, No.

She just needed to check, Just that she was reading it right, Just for the thousandth time.

"..There is a possible sighting of Uppermoon two, Apparently associated with some sort of cult near the village." Shinobu announced as she scanned her eyes across those two dooming words, The ones that she smiled so scaldingly bright at.

Gyomei's eyes widened, The clanking of beads stopping.

"This is.. You mean to say that there was another Uppermoon sighting..? Of number two, Of all moons..!" First it was Upper Six, Defeated in The Red Light District. Next, It was the attack of Uppermoon Four and Five on the swordsmith village.

Just like that.. In over a century several had been slaughtered from their ranks. Now, It was Upper Two?

"Of course." Shinobu nodded as she gently patted the letter back within her haori pocket. Gyomei sensed there was something she was not telling him, Something that she was keeping away. It made him suspicious, Incredibly so.

Gyomei had a frown on his face, Deeper than it ever was.

"Kocho-san.. I'd advise you to go to Oyataka-sama before me.. I am not the messenger you want since you happen to have all the information.. We need to plan something out before we act..!" Gyomei urged, Cogs already starting to turn.

Shinobu hummed.

"..Of course, I will go to him but not right now. Not before I do some scouting of my own, You must understand!" She laughed airily until it trailed off into the wind, Blowing past her before it died down entirely.

Gyomei paused.

"I.. Then why me..? Why did you ask me specifically to come here if you don't want to tell anything to the corps..? Something I deeply advise against.." Gyomei warned once more.

But Shinobu didn't respond, Just acknowledged it with a single warble of her throat before clearing it.

"Oh, Don't worry about it~! I'll explain to you in a moment.."

She smiled, Even wider.

"There is still one left to arrive.."

☆♡☆

[F/N] laid, Still pressed up against the trunk of the tree, Listening to the sounds of air travelling through the shrine.

Akaza sat next to her, The box too now empty of the food it once held. Carefully packaged food, Bowls of rice, Canteens of soup and cutlets of many meats all ravaged and scarfed down.

[F/N] admitted that it was good. Disgusting, But good. Hard to swallow yet settled in her stomach fine.

She breathed in the air, Fresh and poignant as it filled her lungs with life. The aching of her bones from training earlier still had a lingering pain, Throbbing and bruised.

It almost spoiled her mood, Especially since she now felt something akin to normalcy once lazing on a mockery of hillside and it's lumber. She tried not to think about it.

Kokushibo and his little training sessions with her, What a monster he was. What reason did he have to do this all with her? With someone he already admitted was the best he had ever fought in centuries, You'd think she'd not need to partake.

He liked torturing her, That's what [F/N] came to. Some sadistic joy inside his dead little heart liked to watch her bleed, To bruise and blister. Always lingering around to watch her, Almost going over to get a better look.

[F/N] scoffed under her breath. He had even tried to gift her that hairpin, The one she still wore in her hair at this very moment, All to get her to stay compliant.

How could she? When every time they'd pass in the halls he'd keep his eyes on her, Expecting her to be what he thought she should. Keep her locked up here- All while beating her down daily.

There was no reason to it!

The warm air felt nice on her skin, Eyes almost drifting away into another dream. Akaza himself had long done so, His eyes closed and his breath steady.

[F/N]'s eyes widened.

A sudden hitch in her breath came, A neuron connecting within her brain.

Oh, That was the reason.

It was because he had no idea how else he could spend time with her.

[charliespringsleftconverse]

Sweet Love Beneath The Christmas Tree

Word Count: 2419 | Read on AO3

Next Chapter

Writer’s Notes: Hi hi @thevalkyriesshadow <3 I'm so excited to finally present you with this lovely little present! I've never been one to post a story in chapters but this one just didn't feel right to publish as a one shot. LOVE your blog girl. <333 I've been following quietly but I've been wanting to interact more with the things you reblog so that'll change for sure now that the big reveal is here! I hope you enjoy! This is just a soft little holiday AU story where the inner circle (minus, Amren. Sorry! There were too many folks involved already!) met in college and now they are adults celebrating Christmas in the mountains and just being cute and there may be some spiceeeeee. Also, I'll be releasing chapter two within the next day!

Warnings: This three-chapter story contains mature content such as smut in the third chapter. Reader discretion is advised. Age advisory 18+

Huge shout out to @acotargiftexchange for coordinating this. You all are the absolute best for this together again this year! <3

The mountainside was blanketed in snow, stretching from the summit all the way down to the valley’s evergreens. It was late December, Christmas Eve to be exact, and the scene promised a postcard picture-perfect white Christmas in the mountains. Courtesy of Rhysand’s family, the group would be staying at an extravagant chalet in the valley, a tradition his family had maintained which he now carried on with his friends—now family—for several years. The home was part of a ski resort where most families rented to visit, but Rhysand’s family had gained access to the area many years ago when the homes had been for sale rather than temporary lease. Their long-standing wealth—old money—certainly played a role in this privilege.

This year was no exception to the festivities. The holiday trip always included a white elephant gift exchange on Christmas Day, a grand extravaganza to ring in the New Year until the sun rose, and in recent years, it now featured the celebration of Feyre’s birthday. 

Gwyn had been extended an invitation to the merriment soon after she met Nesta in college six years ago, and the rest had been history. She’d easily integrated into the group, befriending even the quietest and most stoic of them all—Azriel. After all, Gwyn had a gift for making her way into the hearts of all she came across. She possessed an irresistible charm that drew people in, creating an aura around her that seemed to pull others toward her like planets aligning in orbit. And Azriel, as serious and reserved as he had been was no exception to the rules of gravity.

While he had been the toughest cookie for Gwyn to crack, within three months of knowing her, he couldn’t resist the urge to seek her out at parties and gatherings when their paths collided. Although they had been friendly and flirty throughout college, the pair hadn’t started dating until after graduation. Not that there hadn’t been a pursuit before then, but Gwyn had been clear in her mind that her main focus was on her studies. So, there’d been a bit of a cat-and-mouse game between the two with subtle sideways glancing and playful teasing, a torturous but eventually rewarding game for the pair.

Two years after graduation, they were surrounded by their chosen family and the latest additions. With the birth of baby Nyx just a few months ago, the entire group had already fallen in love with him before he could even open his eyes. They had planned most of this holiday around him to celebrate and ensure that his first Christmas was truly memorable. Somewhere along the way, the holiday preparations evolved from a simple Christmas into an extravagant winter spectacular celebration. There was no doubt that Nyx was loved, even if the group had lost their focus on the original vision while shopping, ten Christmas inflatables ago.

Emerie’s eyes widened as she took in the winter wonderland that now blanketed the front yard of their holiday house. Since they—Emerie, Mor, Cassian, Nesta, Azriel, and Gwyn—had arrived a day earlier than baby Nyx and his parents, there was a substantial amount of grocery shopping to be done, along with holiday decorations to prepare. Emerie, not wanting to end up covered in glitter, volunteered to handle the grocery shopping while the rest of the team focused on baby-proofing the house and decorating. Besides, if Mor were to find a single drop of glitter on their bed later that night, her girlfriend would make her sleep on the pullout couch. Emerie shivered. 

Almost dropping the grocery bags from her hands, Emerie caught herself remembering she had a carton of eggs in one of the two paper bags in her grip. The frosty air blew against her cheeks, Emerie was glad she’d worn gloves out. They were white-lined chenille snowflaked gloves that stood out against her black puffer jacket. Squinting her eyes and slightly tilting her head to the left, she felt a mix of awe and disbelief. How long had she been gone? What time was it? Better yet, what day was it? Had she been caught in some time anomaly at the grocery store where hours turned into days? And was that Santa Claus on the roof? 

“I don’t care what the box says; this garland is definitely not untangled,” said Gwyn. Wearing a rosy pink elf dress with long ruby tights, belt, boots, and a matching pink and red hat, Gwyn looked like an elf toy that should have been launched by Mattel. She held two fistfuls of garland, shaking them out like a dirty rug, while her coppery-brown hair whipped across her face in the wind. Standing in inches of snow in the front yard, Gwyn looked like an aircraft marshaller on a landing strip giving signals to planes. Straight ahead, Turn Right, Straight Ahead, Brakes Fire. Gwyn sighed, accepting defeat. 

“I don’t think garlands come untangled,” said Azriel, crouching on the roof above the first-floor living room. With his hand outstretched, it appeared he had been hanging garlands with Gwyn's help from below. Azriel was dressed in a full head-to-toe Santa outfit, minus the beard and belly. Meanwhile, the rest of the group wore their own interpretive versions of Santa’s elves.

“Well, they should,” said Gwyn, eyes narrowing at the monstrosity wrapped around her. Perhaps she should have asked for help before unpacking a twenty-foot natural fern. There was no doubt she’d be smelling like pine cones and fir for the rest of the day or even the rest of the Christmas holiday. The garland had even caught on her elf hat. She would surely find pieces of fir in her hair tonight when she washed it.

Azriel chuckled and shook his head. “Let me help you, love.”

Sliding smoothly off the edge of the roof, young Santa stuck the landing on a patch of snow two inches away from almost taking out a polar bear inflatable in the process. 

“Lad-der. Ladder. We have a ladder, Azriel,” said Mor. The blonde had been sitting on a reclining beach chair sipping a frozen hot chocolate that was surely spiked. Unlike the rest of the party, who were busy with preparations, Mor stood out in her red dress—the Mrs. Claus of the group. While everyone else was hard at work, Mor had volunteered to do the ‘hardest’ job, or so she had claimed. Supervising. “I said ‘festive,’ not ‘Las Vegas strip.’ Tone it down with the lights, Nesta!”

“I think normal, left long ago,” mumbled Azriel. His quick fingers worked around the greenery. Dark brown eyes glanced down at Gwyn’s piercing periwinkle, a corner of a smile on each of their lips.

“Before or after she made us all harmonize to All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey?” Gwyn chuckled but still kept her voice low enough for just the two of them to hear.

“Waaaaaay before,” said Azriel. It had been an early and hectic morning for everyone. They knew Mor had an authoritative side but they had never witnessed it to this scale. Having joined the ranks of Auntie this year had brought a new ferocity to her that scared Azriel.

“He’s my nephew too!” Nesta answered from the top of a ladder before giving Mor the finger. Different from Mor, Nesta had always held this passion inside of her. She had even let it out a couple of times at gatherings. It didn’t feel out of character for her. 

Emerie’s bewildered thoughts had shifted from shock to admiration as she closed in on the decorations. She had a newfound respect for the detail that had gone into transforming their holiday house. In the few hours she had been away, a group of five—though really four—had decorated the lawn with candy canes, actual snowmen made from last night's fresh snow, and several inflatable gingerbread men who appeared to be tap dancing while wearing top hats. Emerie nodded at the situation in the yard and proceeded to make her way inside to enjoy the peace before the storm before they all filled the house with their boisterous chatters. Besides, she had bigger fish to fry with the final baby-proofing needed inside.

“Why does every single strand of lights have at least one bulb that refuses to work?” Nesta the elf exclaimed from the top of a ladder. The outfit she sported was closer to a replica of that of the Elf on the Shelf™ with crimson sleeves, a snowy white skirt, and a matching scarf. She was twisting each individual bulb on a string of lights that bordered the house. After checking the seventh light, the entire string flickered before all the bulbs lit up fully. “Ha! Take that!”

“Stay below the last step, Nes. There’s a reason that caution sign is there,” Cassian said, gripping the ladder with both hands. With one foot on the last step, he kept his focus on the brown-haired woman above him. He was zoned in, and Nesta couldn’t have been in safer hands. 

Several things were true today: the sky was blue, the birds were chirping, and that ladder wasn’t going anywhere. Cassian’s muscular body would ensure it, and even if he hadn’t been built like a towering evergreen tree, there was no way in hell he would let the love of his life fall from the top of the ladder without at least trying to protect her. He would throw himself in the way of her fall to provide a soft landing for Nesta.

“What are you doing giving your fiancée a power tool? I thought we learned this lesson when she drilled straight through the pipes last time,” said Gwyn, looking a little less like a human fern.

“And I learned my lesson, now can we put that behind us.” Pulling off her winter gloves with her teeth, Nesta reached into her pocket for a screw. “That was three years ago, I’d like to think I’ve matured since then. I did renovate the kitchen-”

“Correction. We renovated the kitchen,” said Azriel. Somehow, he was already back on the roof hanging the next piece of garland with help from Gwyn on the ground feeding him the untangled decor. “And by we, I do mean Cassian and me.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. 

Cassian gave her a gentle pat on her rear. “You know it’s true.”

“Fine.” Nesta stepped off the ladder, smiled sweetly, and pushed the power tool flat against her partner’s chest. “You finish this.”

With an oomph escaping his lips, Cassian reached for her and held her arm against his chest, smiling down at her. “I’ll help you finish, Nes. Always do.”

Just as Nesta was about to retort with a clever remark, a snowball splattered on Cassian’s head. “We are T-minus one hour before baby Nyx arrives. Have you forgotten that this will be his first Christmas? We need to make a good first impression, folks.”

“It’s funny; every year, I say ‘Let’s keep the decorations simple’, and every year we go all out.” A warm, mellifluous voice traveled across the yard followed by the sound of a car door. Rhysand buttoned his black wool jacket as he approached and nodded, whistling at the spectacle.

“This year is extra special, Rhys,” said Nesta. 

“This is all very nice, but you’re all aware that Nyx is a baby, right?” Rhysand raised an eyebrow. 

“First impressions make long-lasting impressions. Did you not read the book I gave you?” said Mor. There wasn’t much that Nesta and Mor ever agreed on, but that had Nesta nodding along. 

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s asleep,” said Feyre, her voice low. She was wearing a baby blue puffer jacket that was half-zipped. In her left hand, she held the handle of the car seat, where a sweet little baby was snuggled soundly asleep.

All work came to an immediate halt as everyone gathered to take a peek at the little bundle of joy. Nyx was dressed in a baby blue jacket similar to Feyre's and was wrapped in a soft blanket adorned with stars and rocket ships. It wouldn't be long before he was passed around the group like a game of hot potato. 

Mor broke the silence.

“After all my hard work,” she said, shaking her head at her nephew. 

“YOUR hard work?!” Every single elf, including Santa, whipped their heads in Mor’s direction. There was a range of emotions in everyone’s face spanning from frustration to annoyance to confusion. As much as her contributions had been helpful, there was a silent consensus that even her efforts did not equal to their manual labor.  

“What part of my son is sleeping did you all not understand?” Rhysand waved his hand tensely as if conducting a silencing spell shushing everyone. He had the look of a man who would kill anyone who dared to wake his son. Simultaneously, it was the look of a father who needed a good meal and some sleep.

Feyre spoke in a warm, low tone while gently rocking the car seat. Her magic touch kept the little one asleep through his minor shuffling. “He has the whole trip to see it, Mor.”

“Why don’t you take the precious cargo inside and have a meal yourselves? Emerie’s just inside unloading the groceries.” Gwyn gestured toward the house. Her ability to easily read people advised her that these new parents needed time for themselves before baby Nyx awoke. 

"Azriel and I can help unload the car for you. I’m sure you both must be hungry and tired," Gwyn added. Azriel, who was standing behind her, nodded in agreement as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, and slipped his hands into her jacket pockets intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I say we’ve earned ourselves a break, haven’t we elves?” said Azriel, snuggling his body closer to Gwyn’s. 

“Agreed,” said Cassian. 

“I say, we clean up and head inside,” said Azriel, laying a kiss a top of Gwyn’s head. Her hat was no longer to be found, likely carried in the wind and somewhere in the snow-covered yard.

“We’ll clean up here while you two unload the car, Santa,” said Cassian, patting his friend on the back. Az chuckled. It didn’t take long for Nesta, Cassian, and Mor to quickly gather the empty boxes spread out across the front of the house. It was clear they’d all put in a lot of work and could use a moment sitting down in the comfort of a warm cabin. 

[my-sun-m00n-and-stars]

Cad Bane NSFW Alphabet

In honor of my first kinktober, I'll post something I wrote up a few days ago.

Check out my Bane slowburn on AO3, linked on my pinned post.

F!Reader

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): Bane has never been an emotional, touchy-feely kind of guy. If you're a one night stand, he won't even sleep in the same room as you. He's got places to be, and sleeping next to a stranger is a prime way to get himself killed (he's not a very trusting guy). That being said, if you're a regular partner and have built up some trust, he'll help clean up the mess he made of you and share your bed. If he's in a committed relationship, he may permit cuddling on occasion (he's stealing your mammalian warmth).

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): A common answer people give to this one is his hands; his trigger fingers made his career. While I agree with this, I'd like to add up for consideration his fangs. I have noticed he likes to bare his teeth, and always has a toothpick in hand. This, combined with the fact that Duros don't typically have fangs, leads me to believe that he may like them for intimidation purposes, and also because they make him unique.

On a partner---tits. Simple as that. They're exotic, they're soft, and they're inviting. A novelty to a reptile.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): I have a headcanon that has to do with "scent-marking". Essentially, Duros males have strong pheromones in their cum that lingers on their partners, marking them with their scent to ward off other potential males. If Bane is in a committed relationship with you, he may want to "mark" you as his, whether it's cumming on your stomach, your ass, your face...whatever it takes to make the message clear to other males who get within smelling-distance: You're his.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): This is another common headcanon in the Bane fandom---he has a fetish for mammalian women. Humans, twi'leks, togruta, anything he can get his elongated hands on. For one, they seem to be the common standard of beauty in the galaxy. For another, as a reptile they have certain assets that intrigue him. They're warm to his cold, soft to his rough, curvy to his lanky. A good heat source for a cold-blooded man.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): Oh please. The real question is, which body count is higher? The amount of people he's slept with, or the amount of people he's killed? To elaborate more, I imagine that if he can't find a girl at the cantina to rent a room with, he's finding a hooker to pay. Either way, when he wants it, he gets it.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): Definitely doggy. It's easy, he's in control, and he can go as fast as he wants. Not to mention he gets a good view of your fine ass. It's also less intimate in a sense--he's not face to face. Less "love-making" banthashit, more fucking.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): In 99% of cases, he's serious. When he's horny, he's a predator on the hunt. It's almost like a bounty for him. That being said, if you two were in a committed relationship and were very comfortable with each other, I could see him loosening up a bit and having some fun, especially if alcohol is involved. He's not going to turn into a comedian, but he'll relax. But that would be very rare indeed.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): Obviously Bane has no hair, so I'll talk about hygiene instead. He strikes me as a bare-minimum kind of guy. He's got a bar of soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste tube in his knapsack, and that's it. That 18-in-1 soap was made for this man. However, he is clean and keeps himself presentable, including in his nether regions.

On his partner he doesn't much care for body hair either way. It's a bit of a novelty if it is there, but he appreciates the smoothness when it isn't. One thing he can't stand? Prickly. It irritates his skin. You either have to shave it all off or leave it fluffy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): As I mentioned earlier, this man is not holding your hand and looking deeply into your eyes. He's there to fuck. Now if you're his girl, he'll treat you with a bit more deference. He'll make sure you're taken care of and that he's not too rough with you. But if you want anything slow or gentle, you're out of luck. You'd have to catch him in an extremely rare mood to be willing to try that kind of sex. It's vulnerable, and if there's one thing he hates, it's vulnerability.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily?): This man is Possessive with a capital 'P'. He's a control freak. Whether you find that toxic, hot, or both is up to you, but I believe it to be most realistic to how he is portrayed in canon. Even if he trusts you not to betray him, he doesn't trust other men. Especially in the circles he operates in. If you're out in public together in a seedy part of town, he's keeping an eye on you at all times. He may not like you wearing certain outfits if you look too good. He may 'teach you a few lessons' back in the bedroom if you piss him off too much by talking to other guys.

I see this as being his biggest red flag as a partner. But hey, if you've got rose-colored glasses...

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): Bane likes the chase--the hunt, so to speak. If he's in the right mood, and you're playing hard to get, he will eat that shit up. It's in his nature as a bounty hunter. He would never force himself on you--that would defeat the purpose. No, he has to win you over mentally and physically. It's much more satisfying to him. Play coy and watch how determined he can be.

*disclaimer* If it's obvious you're not into him, he won't waste his time.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): I'm going to disagree on other common headcanons with this one. I don't think he would enjoy doing the do in an alleyway or unsecure location as much as a room. He's a paranoid guy and would always have to watch his back, and he can't fully engross himself in his partner. But if you're indoors in a bedroom, it's easier for him to get into it. I also think he would get a kick out of doing it in the cockpit of his ship.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): As I said before, this man is a control freak. Any situation where he feels powerless makes him deeply uncomfortable. As such, subbing would not be on the table for him. He'll let you ride, but don't think for a second he's not the dominant one in the situation.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): If you play into the predator/prey dynamic, he will be on board. If you challenge his authority in any way, boner. Even if he just sees you being a badass, like shooting someone or punching someone, it will turn him on. Basically anything that makes him imagine what it would be like to butt heads with you and see who comes out on top (it's usually him).

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): In general he prefers to receive. Selfish man, selfish lover. However if he's really into you, he will eat you like a feast. Something about humans just tastes so sweet.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.): Fast and rough. No other explanation needed. These words pretty accurately sum him up.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): He loves a good quickie. Get in, get out, on to the next mission. That's how most of his encounters tend to go. But when he has the time, nothing can compare with a nice, long session on a bed.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): He usually only experiments if it's his idea. He doesn't like unknown variables that are out of his control. But if he is not completely against the suggestion he hears, he may decide to give it a try.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): This man has a lot of experience. As a result, he has had practice with edging and building up his stamina. He can go for a long, long time. Depending on where in the star wars timeline you're looking at him, how many rounds he can go may be variable. In his younger years in the prequels? Several rounds. TBOBF? Maybe 2. Man is in his seventies. Give him a break.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): Bane wants to feel you in his hands and use his hands on you. Toys are too detached for him, and frankly threaten his ego. Although, the idea of tying you down and using a vibrator on you until you scream from overstimulation is something he has thought about on more than one occasion. But he'd rather bring you to that point himself through hard work rather than rely on a tool.

He has no qualms about bondage. He can and will use his cuffs on you, and he will tie your legs down too if you squirm too much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): This man lives to tease you. He's a smug son-of-a-bitch and will degrade you. He'll mock you, toy with you, and make you beg.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): He's not loud, but he does make animalistic noises. Grunts and growls mostly, as well as the occasional dirty talk.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Maybe once, if he really loves you deep down, he'll let you take charge for a night. Maybe once he'll let you show him how to be slow and gentle, how to make love. Maybe he'll claim he didn't care for it afterwards, but maybe, in the moment, his body was on fire.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): You know what they say about skinny guys, amirite? Big. His cock was designed for a duros female, not a human. it's very nearly incompatible anatomy, but you make it fit. It's ridged, with the tip being pointier than a human's.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): High. When he's on a job, he's locked in and won't be distracted with such things. But off the job? He's always DTF. If you live and travel with him, you're fucking at least three times per week, at the bare minimum.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): I headcanon that duros don't need as much sleep as humans do. He's last to fall asleep and first to wake. Depending on how much he likes you, he may or may not stick around until you wake up.

[snowbellewells]

HAPPY (One Day Late) BIRTHDAY KRYSTAL!!!

(I really wanted to get this posted on @kmomof4's actual birthday - I've only been trying to get this going since I promised it LAST YEAR! But you have been very patient, Krystal, and here at last is the story I'm working on for your birthday gift. Seeing as you wrote a beautiful CS AU of the Bridgerton book which is a bit of a Cinderella story, and since I've been mulling a bit of a Killian-as-the-Cinderella-character fic for some time, I've mashed that idea together with several of your mentioned fave tropes and characters/relationships from OuaT. I'm not going to list it all here. Hopefully, it will lead to more pleasantly melty surprises as we go. ;p I'll try not to keep you waiting too long between updates - and I have no idea how many chapters there will end up being. I first thought a really long one shot, then a two shot, but Killian and his fairy godmother (and Liam!) were excessively chatty, and it just kept getting longer and longer! I realize Emma isn't in it much yet, but we'll start with her next time.)

I hope you enjoy, Krystal!! I'm so glad we are friends!!!

Also available on AO3 if that is your preference...

"Dreams That You Wish Will Come True"

by: @snowbellewells

Chapter One

“But Liam,” a breathless young Killian Jones argued stubbornly, “why are you dragging me to the galley? You know all I have to get done before the Captain returns…” Swiping the shaggy dark hair back from where it hung in his eyes, long past needing a trim, the young man cringed at the sound of his own wheedling tone. Gritting his teeth and flexing his hands in frustration, Killian chided himself for questioning his elder brother’s direction and sounding like the bloody nuisance he knew he must be to Liam - strong and wise and nearly grown now. At barely seventeen, and with little experience beyond that of an indentured deckhand on a ramshackle pirate ship, what right or knowledge did he have to be so stubborn, especially not with Liam, who had only ever looked out for his best interests?

Sure enough, exasperated, Liam shook his head before responding with a huff, “Can you not just do what I say, Little Brother? For once? You’ll see in a moment.”

By this time, they had traversed the length of the ship below deck, and they stood outside the galley. They paused briefly, with Killian biting down on his tongue to prevent asking again if Liam was sure about what they were doing. To his wide-eyed astonishment, Liam raised a hand to rap his knuckles in a specific rhythm on the door that separated Cook’s domain from the dimly-lit hall. His brother gave him a bit of a wink, more mischief in it than his serious elder sibling, burdened with far too much responsibility for his years, usually showed. Curious now, Killian waited wordlessly with him until footsteps could be heard drawing nearer on the other side.

When the door was opened to them, Killian was perplexed over again as he and Liam were beckoned inward and the door closed behind them once more. Within the room, illuminated softly by a hanging lantern and a few candles scattered throughout, he saw that, not only Cook, but several of the crewmen of the Merry Rogue, had gathered in the small, already overwarm, and easily crowded room in which they took their meals. Killian was usually on his feet serving. Silver would allow nothing less from his “kitchen maid” as he often tauntingly dubbed Killian, hoping to stoke the fiery temper the young lad tried to check so he could then see him lashed for insubordination. It was only well after the others had cleared off that he and Cook could sit and take their own repast. However, those gathered now had secretive smiles and anxiously pleased looks on their faces. Killian noted easily that none of the more hateful crew members were present; neither those who ordered him about loftily, mocking him and sending him scurrying back and forth for items they didn’t really need throughout the meal, nor the cruel bosun who would stick a foot out to trip him, then cuff him for spilling and wasting food. Instead, gathered before him were the softer hearted men - perhaps misfits on the ship themselves at some earlier time before he and Liam were indentured to the vessel - who had often shown him bits of kindness and understanding when they could manage.

In spite of his earlier misgivings, he was intrigued and couldn’t help asking Cook this time, though Liam was still nearby. “What is going on here?”

The older man merely smiled kindly, motioning Killian further into the room, until he stood near its center. “You’ll soon see, lad,” Cook coaxed gently, turning to riffle through a burlap sack laid out on the galley table before offering his prize to Killian. “We’ve something to give you for the evening’s festivities.”

“Wh- what are you on about?” Killian’s brow puckered in confusion as he looked at what appeared to be a pile of folded cloth in his older friend’s hands, and at the eagerly expectant faces gathered around to watch. “Festivities? Me? I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about…”

He was shaking his head as words failed him, not sure how to deal with the puzzle before him, when he sensed Liam at his back, solid and strong. His elder brother placed a comforting hand on Killian’s shoulder and leaned in to murmur quietly in his ear. “Come now, Killy, you have to have seen the banners posted all over port for the gala at the castle, in honor of the Princess Emma’s birthday. It’s tonight.”

Killian sputtered indignantly as Liam nudged him in the side and nodded toward the stack of fine material Cook was still holding out to him. “Aye, of course I have, but - but what does that have to do with me?”

Liam responded with an even more brilliant smile, bowling Killian over with his quip, “Simple, Little Brother! If you would get a move on, we mean for you to attend that ball!”

Those words did not truly make the situation much clearer to Killian’s mind, but at Liam’s urging - knowing his sibling would never encourage something that would do him harm - he took the bundle from Cook and moved forward to lay the offering on the long, wooden table for a better view. He could see now that it was a fine coat, made of soft, midnight blue, expertly tailored and brand new, certainly the finest piece of clothing he’d ever held in his own two hands. There was also a dress shirt, a mere shade lighter, clearly meant to be worn beneath the jacket, and breeches of a soft, dove gray - all quite the ensemble and much finer than any mere deckhand or cabin boy would ever have use for. Despite that, all three items seemed to be in his particular size, and the pleased smiles on the small circle of weathered faces around him clearly meant for him to have the articles.

“This is very kind,” Killian began, trying a different tack since protesting that they must be mistaken had done no good. “These clothes are the most handsome I’ve seen, but surely no sailor, and one barely part of the crew at that, would be invited to such an event. Mayhap someone else could…”

“Perhaps I can explain,” an airy, musical voice spoke up, floating on the air like a tinkling of chimes as sparkles of light and swirls of colorful breeze seemed to catch the eyes of all those gathered in the small ship’s kitchen. Gliding gently toward him from above, a small creature - a miniature woman, a fairy!, he realized -  came to to hover before him, a sweetly bemused smile on her delicate face.

More questions flooded Killian’s brain than had already lingered; however, he was now too overwhelmed and in awe to speak any of them aloud. A fairy? Here? Where pirates cooked and swabbed the deck and ate their grub? That he would ever see such a mystical being had never entered his mind, much less the idea that he would encounter one aboard a ship which had seen much more glorious days many years ago. He was sailor enough - a superstitious lot, one and all - to believe that magic existed, fairies among the more familiar imagery of sirens and selkies, but a vague belief in theory was much different from seeing one shimmering before his own eyes, gazing on him with a benevolent smile upon her face.

Seeing that the beguiling young man before her was currently incapable of answering, the silvery-winged fairy’s laughter tinkled on the air like the pleasant ringing of tiny bells, the riotous pile of ringleted brown curls interespersed with morning glory blossoms shook with her gentle mirth before she spoke again, hastening to explain and hopefully to dispel the poor youth’s doubt and confusion. “You are Killian Jones, yes?” she queried, already certain, but awaiting his confirmation nonetheless.

Killian did manage an affirmative nod, and his lips formed a soft “aye”, though it sounded as barely more than a whisper.

“Well then, Killian Jones, it is a pleasure to meet you at long last. I have watched you from afar all your life, after all. I am Nova, your fairy godmother.”

The handsome young man’s bright blue eyes popped wide open at her pronouncement, stunning in their crystal clarity and nearly making Nova’s sweet soul cry at the hope laid bare in his expression, hope which he tried equally to rein in, clearly having already learned such lovely things were not meant for him and waiting to hear the catch. She was the most tender-hearted of all her sisters, and it had been painful for her to look on and do nothing as this mischievous, brilliant little boy had been forced into manhood far too soon. His mother’s death, his father’s abandonment, the privation and shame of unwilling servitude, the cruelty of mistreatment, and the harsh life at sea had all changed the bonny child who had boarded this ship with his father and brother years ago into the solemn young man before her, who had never truly been allowed to leave. She had chafed over and over again at being held back and kept from doing something to help her appointed charge - anything to better his lot, even slightly. Their fairy laws were fickle, and yet exacting; even as Nova honored and revered their ways and her elders, she could not claim to understand why it had taken so long to finally be deemed “the right time”.

She could tell by the furrow of his dark brow that young Killian Jones must be pondering at least some of those same questions. Where had she been these last years of backbreaking toil, pilfered rations, and vicious taunts about a father so desperate to be rid of him he had sold him away? Where had she been the first time the lash had scored his back and left bloodied stripes in its wake? She had been right there beside him, unseen, constrained from taking any action, but he had no way of knowing that.

“I - I have a fairy godmother?” he finally sputtered in stark disbelief.

Nova nodded kindly, having the good grace to look more than a little abashed. “Of course you do! Everyone does. It breaks my heart to think you’ve felt so forgotten.” She squared her shoulders and blinked rapidly, trying not to become emotional as she attempted to explain. “Unfortunately, we fairies follow a very strict code. We are forbidden to make ourselves known before the appointed time. And I kept being told it was not yet that moment…”

Killian’s mind whirled with all the new information - and with a bit of indignance at the idea that all he and Liam had been through since being abandoned and left in Silver’s dubious oversight had not been considered serious enough to merit aid. His mouth opened, and even he himself was not sure if it was a question or a retort on the tip of his tongue - but his immediate awe was finally overcome - when his diminutive magical guest clearly sensed she needed to finish her explanation, and fast. 

“My superior, the Blue Fairy, or Blue as she’s often called, is stricter about maintaining our distance and secrecy than most.” Nova shrugged her shoulders in obvious contrition as she waved her hands and a wand appeared within her grasp. “I’ve never really understood why, but that’s neither here nor there. It is finally time to grant your heart’s wish… to do something to make you life better, just as I’ve been waiting to do!”

Killian’s mouth snapped shut again at that, puzzled by her words and disarmed at the excitement bursting from her tiny frame. He had never met this Nova before, but he could hardly doubt her eager sincerity. “My wish?” he repeated uncertainly, feeling that he was trailing considerably further behind in the conversation that he ought to be. “I can’t honestly remember even making one.”

Even as he spoke those words, however, Killian knew in his heart they were not entirely true. It might not have been the focused drive of a wish upon a star, or anything that direct, but he had often thought on where he would go if he were free, what he and Liam could do if they were their own men, left to their own devices, able to seek an adventure of their choosing, honor and glory for the name of Jones which their father had sullied. Had those hopes and dreams been heard all this time, when he had felt so forgotten and ignored? It must be true, though it was hard to reconcile with his previous experiences.

Almost as if she could read his thoughts broadcast across his face, Nova nodded enthusiastically, affirming his realization. “That’s right,” she pronounced clearly, gesturing to the clothing his brother and shipmates had procured for him. The fairy -his fairy godmother! - then effortlessly waved her wand once more, causing one of the flyers ever-present about this kingdom to appear before him from out of thin air. “This ball is only the beginning for you. You have big dreams, Killian Jones, and a calling to fulfill, but you are also the only one who can see them come true. I may be giving you a bit of a boost, but you are more than enough for the task. Your heart is strong, and I have no doubt it will see you through. You only need a little belief.”

“And what exactly does a fancy royal ball have to do with anything?” he questioned. His shock was wearing off as he grew more comfortable speaking to Nova, but he wasn’t seeing why he would be needed at a princess’ birthday celebration. All the same, he scooped all the formal wear up in his arms to go and change - whether it made sense to him or not.

Nova’s entire small fae being practically twinkled at him with the playful wink she gave before answering, “Not all things are as simple as they might first appear, young sir.” With that, she lightly tapped the end of her wand on the top of his head, causing a pleasantly warm tingling to spread through Killian’s body, all the way out to his fingers and toes.

A mere moment later, amid astonished exclamations from Liam, Cook, and the others, he realized that his arms were empty; the new clothes he had been holding already magicked onto his lanky frame, along with shining new shoes upon his feet and a smart queue tied off with ribbon matching his fine shirt and a fresh, neat trim to his dark hair too. It was indeed enough to make him feel a whole new person - one who might not stand out horribly, even at the palace of Misthaven.

“There now,” Nova approved with gentle tone, a fond smile gracing her lips as she took in the full effect upon her charge. “You look quite the young gentleman.”

“Aye, you do at that!” Cook echoed with his rough but friendly voice as he clapped Killian on the shoulder heartily. “Even in our heyday, Cap’n Silver himself rarely looked so sharp!”

“I’d not let him hear you say so,” the old shipwright Ned called over jovially.

“Too right!” Cook chuckled.

The other crew members present laughed as well and began to talk amongst themselves, drifting away now that the excitement was past. Soon, only Liam stood beside him, the two brothers both looking to their benefactress where she hovered before them. Even Cook headed off for his cabin, saying his old bones were ready for his bunk, even if the night was still young.

“You look just like a fine young lieutenant,” Liam affirmed, eyes wide as he took in his younger sibling and needlessly brushed some nonexistent speck from the shoulder of Killian’s jacket. Then, bracing both of his larger hands on Killian’s upper arms, he held him out to gaze into his face seriously before offering in a choked voice, “This sort of adventure should have always been your lot.” Liam pulled Killian in abruptly and hugged him tight for several seconds, startling Killian before he held onto his brother with equal fervency.

“Thank you,” Killian finally managed when Liam released him. “I don’t know how you managed all this,” he gestured around the room, “but I am sure it began with you.”

Liam flushed slightly, looking down with a sheepish smile. “My idea, aye, but I had lots of help. And it wouldn’t have turned out nearly so well if your honest-to-goodness fairy godmother hadn’t turned up!”

Nova’s ringing laughter once again tickled their ears, her eyes crinkling up prettily as well with her good humor. “It really was my pleasure,” she rejoined. But then she added more seriously, “This is your night, Killian. There is much for you to see and to do, and I bid you enjoy every moment to its fullest. I’ve readied a carriage which will take you to the palace, and Liam can ride along with you as far as the gates. Just remember - the ride and the clothes, the gifts you’ve been granted, will vanish at midnight. It’s simply how the magic works. Make sure you are headed back by then.”

Killian nodded, promising he would do as she said; it was far longer than he could imagine needing, if the truth were told. He wasn’t at all sure what he would do there in any case. And though he wished Liam could venture inside with him, he would gladly take the ride to gather more advice and draw strength from his sibling’s company.

After that, it seemed very little time passed before - head still spinning at the sheer impossibility of it all - Killian was disembarking from a fine horsedrawn carriage at the palace gates. Looking back to grin crookedly at Liam, his brother urged once more “Have fun!” and reassured him that all would be well. Turning, Killian bravely put first one foot, and then the other, forward, until he stepped into the castle of Misthaven, a guest at a royal ball. 

He slipped his hand into his pocket to run his fingers over the ring on an old chain which had once belonged to their mother (Liam had bid him carry it this once for luck) and pulled in a deep, steadying breath as he gained his bearings. He was already dazzled beyond belief, but determined to make a good showing and bring “honor to the Jones brothers” as he murmured under his breath. Whatever he was meant to find, he would do his best.

At that, he raised his eyes, catching sight of the magnificent winding staircase trailing down from the upper floors into the main hall. Halfway down the steps, paused with one foot poised in descent, was a stunningly beautiful, golden-haired vision in sky blue and silver. Killian could scarcely take in the tiara resting upon her head or the clear resemblance she bore to her likeness on all the recent announcements for her birthday. Laying eyes on her in life had struck him motionless, frozen in place. ‘Bloody hell,’  his mind fumbled inelegantly, ‘It’s Princess Emma herself.’

So completely entranced was he, in fact, that Killian failed to realize the princess was just as stunned - equally taken in and unable to move. Their eyes met and held across the distance between them, and one more shining burst of magic was ignited then and there.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight

@stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @eastwesthomeisbest @bluewildcatfanatic @jonesfandomfanatic

@belovedcreation @goforlaunchcee @laianely @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl

@myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm

@gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @resident-of-storybrooke

@teamhook @revanmeetra87 @jennjenn615 @grimmswan @ultraluckycatnd

[finduilasclln]

lights will guide you home

Oh hey, I wrote a small 6.11 coda. \o/ I miraculously found some time to write right after seeing last night's episode this morning. This is quick and un-betad, and I'll try and tidy it up a bit before posting on AO3 but I wanted to post on Tumblr before I read any other 6.11 codas and decided this one couldn't hold a candle to those others, so... Title so very obviously taken from "Fix You" by Coldplay.

---

lights will guide you home

“A teacher, huh?” Eddie asks, bringing Buck a drink even though Buck insisted he could get it himself. But Eddie has this need to do things for Buck, even if it is just getting him a glass of water. He’s felt powerless for too long. Too long that Buck was in that coma. 

“Yeah,” Buck says, shaking his head slightly. “Not sure where that came from.” 

“It makes sense,” Eddie says as he sits down next to Buck at the dinner table instead of opposite him, needing to have Buck within arm’s reach. “You’re full of knowledge and you’re great with kids.” 

Buck preens a little at Eddie’s words. “Yeah?” 

“Stop fishing for compliments,” Eddie smiles softly because it’s easier than telling Buck all the ways in which he’s incredible. 

“I don’t know,” Buck grins, his fingers wrapped around the glass of water, leaving marks in the condensation. “Feels like maybe I earned a few after what I’ve been through the last few days?”

“Lying in a hospital bed, letting the machines do all the work for you?” Eddie teases, because Buck is fine. Buck is alive. Buck is back here with him. And if Eddie thinks too hard about it he’s going to crack and he doesn’t think Buck needs that right now. 

“Ouch,” Buck says, mock-offended. He brings his hand up to his chest, “Too soon.” 

Eddie reaches out and squeezes Buck’s arm reassuringly, desperate for that connection. 

“Besides,” Buck continues, “There was a hell of a lot more going on than me just lying there.” 

“Like being a teacher? Your brother being alive?” Eddie asks, going off of what Buck’s been saying. 

“Yeah…” Buck says, suddenly lost in thought. 

“Sounds nice though,” Eddie prods a little bit, studying Buck’s face. 

“I - ” Buck starts, then shakes his head. “It wasn’t right. Daniel - I. Yeah, I would have wanted - ” His fingers trace lines in the condensation on his glass. “But it wasn’t right. Maddie and Doug. Bobby. You.” 

“What about me?” Eddie asks carefully, because that’s the one thing Buck hasn’t quite elaborated on. It makes something inside of Eddie’s stomach twist. 

“You weren’t there,” Buck simply says, taking a sip of water. 

“I wasn’t?” Eddie asks, a sudden pang of disappointment going through him. Buck went through this life-altering thing where everything was meaningful and important and Eddie - wasn’t there? 

Buck shakes his head, pressing his lips together like there’s something he’s not quite saying. Eddie wants to push but at the same time he’s not sure he wants to know. 

“You weren’t,” Buck says, contemplative, “Everything was different and messed up. I mean, my parents were great. They were present, they cared, they - they loved me.” 

“Far be it for me to defend them,” Eddie says softly, because Buck needs to know, “But I think they do, Buck. However they choose to show it or fail to show it a lot of the time, they do love you.” 

“I know,” Buck says, nodding as he looks at Eddie. “It was just different in the dream. I thought it was what I wanted, that family, with Daniel. But - ” He takes a deep breath. “Everything else was just wrong. I knew I couldn’t stay there.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Eddie whispers. He doesn’t know to what extent he believes Buck had a conscious choice in coming back to them, in surviving. But either way he’s glad Buck made it back to them. To him. 

“I didn’t have you,” Buck says with a shrug, like he’s aiming for nonchalant but he’s missing by a mile. 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended by that, by the way,” Eddie says in a manner that he hopes comes across as teasing, even though he knows there’s way too much truth in it. 

“No, but see, that’s the thing,” Buck says, his hand finding its way on top of Eddie’s on the table. “If nothing else, it wasn’t right because you weren’t there.” 

“Buck,” Eddie whispers, the warmth of Buck’s hand on his grounding him. 

“It could have been everything I wanted, and it still wouldn’t have been - ” Buck takes another deep breath. “Nothing’s right if you’re not in my life.” 

And Eddie knows how that feels, has spent days thinking about the possibility of Buck not making it out of his coma, of Buck not being in Eddie’s life anymore, and nothing about it was right. 

“I thought I lost you,” Eddie says under his breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Buck’s skin against his. “I tried to get your heart beating again, I watched you lie there on a ventilator thinking it was all over. I snuck my son into the ICU because I knew we needed to be together, even if just for one last time, and - ” When he looks up again, Buck’s looking straight at him with wet blue eyes. 

“I came back to you,” Buck says, their hands now a tangled mess of fingers clinging to each other. 

“Thank you,” Eddie whispers, leaning his forehead against Buck’s. He can feel stray tears making their way down his cheek but he just lets them flow. It’s Buck, and he doesn’t need to hide. 

They stay like that for a while, leaning into and holding onto each other. Eddie doesn’t need to know anything else about Buck’s dream if Buck is not volunteering to share. He knows all he needs to know. Buck made it back to him, and all is right with the world again. 

[kawoshinweek]

And that's a WRAP! Thank you all SO much for participating, I am genuinely amazed by how many people took part in this event and by all the incredible works made for it!!

But Kawoshin Week doesn't have to be entirely over yet - I am still going through all the cool stuff you all have made, and plan on making a last wrap-up post with a total count of the works made for the week once I'm able to! In the meantime, a few things:

💙 If I accidentally missed your work for the week and haven't shared it, feel free to let me know!

💜 I'll still be keeping an eye out for the #kawoshinweek2024 tag (albeit less frequently) for the rest of the month. So if you were unable to participate or finish your work in time but would still like to do so, I will still happily share it! You can also tag me!

💙 To anyone who may have missed it, in addition to Tumblr this event is also on Twitter and Ao3. There's plenty of works unique to either site, so I fully encourage you to check the Kawoshin Week account on both here and Twitter as well as the Ao3 Collection to enjoy it to the fullest!

💜 If you're on both sites and haven't done so, feel free to crosspost your work; I'd love to share it in both places!

💙 If you're not on both sites but would like your creations for the week to be shared on Twitter, please feel free to send a dm/ask and let me know - I'd be happy to repost it there on the Kawoshin Week account for you (with credit and a link back to your original post)!

Lastly, on a personal note, the past couple days have marked a full year since I first watched Evangelion last year!! This week in a way doubled as a celebration of that, so I am truly really thankful to everyone for being so enthusiastic and passionate and making this week so fun and special!!

I hope it's likewise been an exciting and rewarding experience for everyone who participated - I'd love to hear your thoughts on it if you'd like to share!!

And that's it for now!!! I'll be back for a wrap-up post later into the month.

I won't make any promises this early, but this week has been a blast, so within possibility I'd love to return for a Kawoshin Week 2025 next year! Thank you all again and see you next time!! 💜💙

[ladysomething]

honey, I'm homeee!

1. maddie I physically cannot wait for the untitled fic because it seems like it's gonna be good. (let's be honest, if it's yours, is gonna be good. weekly dose of me sending you love 😘)

2. the snippet made me feel a little bit like acting insane, you know?

3. I just now remembered that I, in fact, did not send my ask/rant/yapping session about last chapter. tumblr hates me I think. but, it's coming right up, because we're about to re- read. I do remember that I wanted to hit someone with a pan or something like that. although that happens quite often. regardless of whose face would be on the flat surface of the pan.

+1. brother asks: I do not want to jinx anyone, of course, but can you ask Lady if she believes in the ao3 writer curse and if she has ever experienced or something like it? he's been investigating, next thing you know, he'll be sending you asks himself. /jk

+2. my roommie also, has been investigating. though to a bigger level. he has turned our living room into a giant base of operations. we even have this funny whiteboard with the red thread and a damn lot of random drabbles he makes in the middle of the night only about your fic. If I could I would send you a picture but, as stated beforehand, tumblr hates me. so I can't. yes, he does have a job. a serious, strict and well-paid one at that. his question is: how did Max found Kelly? did he knew her from before, was she in the paddock before? was the recontratripletetrahijueputa carepicha malnacido desgraciado (idk if there's a translation for that insult, so we'll settle for wretch motherfucker) that hurt her was from there? and when will we see more of that Mercedes guy?

have a nice day sweetie! I'll come back in a while with our report. 🫡

blesssss! I won't respond to your first few because I have another ask waiting for me about the new fic, so I'll talk about all that there!!

so for the other stuff:

+1. serious answer: no I don't believe, because if somebody is writing long enough, then obviously something big will happen in their life! non-serious answer ... it's a thing. literally last night I posted the ao3 an hour after our brand new puppy was rushed to the vet after swallowing a bee and going into anaphylactic shock. I posted it to make myself feel better while waiting for news about whether she was going to live. so yes!!! its a thing!!! and well ... you could say I've experienced it, but tbh my life is literally just drama - writing fic - drama - writing fic. so like. ya know.

+2. I WANT TO SEE THE BASE OF OPERATIONS SO BADLY. DM ME??? DISCORD DM ME??? IDC!!

for his questions - can't tell you how Max found Kelly. it will be revealed soon!

can't tell you if he knew her before ... also about to be revealed!

can't tell you where her abuser is from - where about to find out who it is.

I CAN tell you that we will see of the Mercedes guy, his proper purpose will be served within the next ten or so chapters. probably less.