#if he only knew how old some of us were right?

[sturnslutz]

reuniting.

christopher sturniolo. the man you hated. no, rather loved. you hated hearing his name, though. not because you didn't like him, but the opposite. you loved him.

he was perfect. your school's favorite triplet. the kid who had 100k on instagram in his senior year, solely based on his looks. the boy who was oh, so sweet to you. your best friend. how could you ever hate him?

you hated him because he left. he just got up and left out of nowhere, ghosting everyone who knew his name, and brought his brothers with him. the sturniolos' was a name that almost seemed ancient, one that brought the taste of ash to your tongue.

at the ripe age of 17, the sturniolo last name was only a name you heard in your dreams. people eventually stopped talking about them, about chris. the girls you knew who wanted to be his valentine, got boyfriends. husbands, even. some who looked like chris in some ways. some who didn't look like chris, but rather acted like him.

he couldn't leave your head though, even 6 years later. you're supposed to move on. you were supposed to forget about the boy who was your best friend for all of middle and high school. that's not how it works though, there has to be remorse. there has to be some guilt in this, right?

the tension, the not so subtle flirting, the teasing. how could either of you just forget all of it? despite being in a friendgroup, chris treated you like you were the only one he actually cared about. it's because you were. he only really cared for you.

you still had photos and videos of him in your camera. they were taking up storage. not like you cared. you could always just buy a new one. you couldn't buy memories, though. you didn't even know what chris looked like now. you had always teased him for his "frat bro hair." he didn't mind though, he never did.

you're 22 now. you knew he was 22 also, about to turn 23. you could never forget his birthday. when he left, your friends told you how he had blocked everyone. you assumed he blocked you also, and didn't want to bear the pain of actually seeing his name not pop up. so you didn't. you never checked if he had actually left you.

here you are now. august 1st, his 23rd birthday, finally researching his name on instagram. just to actually get the closure you needed. on his birthday, too. @/christophersturniolo. the same username he's used for god knows how long. he popped up. his profile, his name, everything. right in front of you.

what you didn't expect when scrolling on his page was that he was actually posting. he hadn't blocked you. you could actually see him now. he had lived in LA now, with over 2 million followers. his posts were rather, vulnerable. even for chris. he was posting shirtless pics, something he had never done before.

was this content? you didn't understand the porn industry well, but you had a good knowing of it. they usually build their profiles, posting rather inappropriate pictures on social media. you had never actually been on a porn site. you had never even done anything like that. and only chris knew you were that pure, and he adored it.

he had a link in his bio. your fingers clicked on it faster than your mind even processed it. your phone had brought you to a website you had never even thought of going on. it was his profile.

he was a pornstar. scrolling was easy, and you couldn't help the heat rising to your face at the sight of chris. he had a video posted that only a subscription could access. once again, your fingers moved faster than your mind did, not even processing that you were actually buying a subscription to see your old best friend do something you didn't even know was possible.

you had unlocked so much. you saw videos of him rubbing his hard cock in his sweatpants, before teasing himself and slipping his fingers in and out of his waistband, his breaths being heard through the phone.

there were pictures of his v line, pictures of his fucked-out face with the caption "just got done. wanna see?" he would never say that. you liked every. single. picture and video you saw.

what you didn't know was that they could actually see who was subscribing to their profile, you accidentally signing up with your email that had your full name on it. chris knew you were viewing his porn. he knew you were thinking of him.

he had actually been viewing your instagram profile regularly. he memorized your username, the one you never changed just like he hadn't. he saw old friends of his in your instagram dumps, how you still had the same beautiful smile. he had noticed you had never posted a boy, were you still the same, innocent sweetie that he was obsessed with?

he didn't want to leave you. he wanted to bring you with him along his adventures. he wasn't ashamed of his porn career, but he wasn't extremely fond of it. he didn't know what you would think the day you actually searched him up and realized he didn't break himself from you.

he didn't know if you would regret the friendship you two had, because of the career choice he had went down. what he didn't expect was seeing your name pop up dozens of times all from the same website.

you actually liked seeing him so naked. so dominant. so different from his 17 year old self. he couldn't help himself from following you on instagram almost immediately after seeing your notifications and sending you a text.

@/christophersturniolo 5:46pm.

"hey, sweetie. missed you kid. saw u liked my stuff, a lot of them actually. text me back when you see this, i wanna see u again. hope everything's good."

your heart dropped at the sight of the notification. you didn't know he was actually able to see who liked his stuff. your breath got caught in your throat, he knew you had seen his dick. he knew everything.

you followed him back, texting him back.

@/sweeties.world 5:58pm.

"this is rlly embarrassing fuck i didnt know u could actually see me liking ur stuff. happy birthday btw. i miss you a lot, and i got caught up looking, sorry if this is rlly awkward lol."

he responded almost immediately.

@/christophersturniolo 5:59pm.

"thank you sweetie, and it's not awkward at all, actually. im not ashamed of what i do, and im glad it was you rather than anyone else from hs seeing it. you still live in boston? me and my brothers are coming down soon, and i would love to see you, if that's cool."

@/sweeties.world 6:01pm.

"of course <3 and yeah, i do. of course it's cool, i would love to see you too. you're gonna have to explain why u left me and everyone else out of nowhere btw u are not escaping that situation"

@/christophersturniolo 6:04pm.

"same old sweetie, huh? never letting down something and making me talk about my feelings. love that about you. i need u to know i didn't leave you because of anything you did, i was caught up in my own head and did some things i shouldn't have. ill tell u everything when we hangout. im glad u looked at my content though so i wouldnt have had to bring it up randomly over coffee."

that night kept on with texts catching up. you guys got each others' numbers again, and even facetimed. he looked so much better than before and you both talked like no time had passed. he was still the same old, chris sturniolo. the one who's dick you saw, the one who you saw fucking some girl, the one with 2 million followers.

[gamblersdoll]

┗━━━━━━⊱ 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏

PROLOGUE

do you really know what betrayal feels like?

betrayal wasnt the first time you boyfriend eating your three full mooned left overs, that was looking to mold. betrayal wasnt the fact your best friend tried to use your expensive perfume. it was all in katsuki bakugou— the fifteenth ranked prohero, dynamight. the fucker who was technically your first love… or so you thought. you thought you both were high school sweethearts. no— why would you think that? it was just a quick relationship.

or, it was forced to be.

but it was many years ago. you were teenagers, so it didnt mean anything now.

but to you, it was personal. real, personal.

“do you have any idea where the red hearts are?” the detective asked, the interrogation room filled with two detectives, two heroes. they all were exhausted, working on this case for almost a year. the lowlife in question knew where the gang of lowlives were, he wasnt apart of it simply. “we can probably get a good deal with the district attorney. thats all up to you, bud” detective yamo said, a senior detective who was training a new detective— what was this, a dick wolf production?

the prospect smoked a long cigarette, although it said no smoking in the room. “mmm.. whats the deal? i wont accept anything twenty five to life-“

blackened gloves slam on the table, dynamight agitated. “listen here,” he gritted out, small eye bags, but not whole lot. “if you cooperate, we can let you live, im getting pretty sick of yer’ shit.” the hero growled, but he was right in some degree. yamo had sighed, pinching his nose.. the anger management sessions seem to be faltering again.

the prospect laughed, a mix of fear, delirium, and amusement. “ the red hearts?” he remembered, and shook his head. “ think they are suppose to clear out and relocate.”

“that helps us little to none, shika.” name dropping huh? said detective yamo. “where. are. they.” he asked, tall and tan— beard as scruffy as a bush, but hair lustrous as silk. too bad he was an old man, havent had any actual action in many years..

“supposed to be under some temple, all i know.” shika said, a all hands off gesture. “now, whats my promised deal?”

“i said might, never promised you.” yamo chuckled, rubbing his fingers through his beard and messing with the scar slightly under his eye.

the temple being himeji castle. how could they be there?

the red hearts being known for some thieving, and slight murder charges. they were unknown, all the feds knew was they would leave their emblem: a red heart, whether it was drawn, or carved out a person. the red hearts were considered cannibals, yet only two bite marks were in two different hearts that were broken from the hosts’ body.

so, to the himeji castle the heroes went to.

“whos car are we driving?” kaminari asked, a bag full of popcorn. “i wanna ride in kacchans porsche! only two people rode in it.” he frowned.

“if you wan’ ride in my car, you better not bring food in it.” he sighs, a quick push up of his mask to his forehead. “and thats because yer’ a biggie.”

“hey man! you know im trying to bulk, its big boy season!”

kirishima, also known as red riot, or primarily the ‘big daddy tank,’ popular by the ladies and some gentlemen— a standing ovation for his tall physique and his weight, instantly spots the blonde and charged hair. “muuustardddddd!” he yells, both he and chargebolt smacking the palms of their hands together, dap up if you will, followed with a ‘pow!’

“its too early for you ta be screamin, man.” katsuki sighed. dynamight, the most popular of the big three, for his attitude and back muscles— along with slutty thighs and waist. he was a little shorter than kirishima, but both being in the six foot three through six foot seven range.

—

the casual approach was to get underneath the castle, way before the red hearts could potentially leave without a trace. team a— which was team deku arrived on one side, consisting of izuku midoriya, todoroki shoto, ururaka ochako, and hitoshi shinso.

team b— who was deemed to charge head on with the fbi. katsuki bakugou, denki kaminari, kyoka jirou, and kirishima eijirou. the red head goes shoulder first, breaking the downstairs door down and immediately the guns came out, all armed and ready to go.

“hands!” at least most men shouted, scattering around the room to search, but not a whole lot of them found much.. until they did. “deku! heading your way!” one random officer alerted the broccoli colored fellow.

‘got it!’

team b still searched the temple, why did the red hearts stay here? why here? questions to be asked but probably will go unanswered. but, who cared why they stayed there! they were definitely criminals.

a dog barks, picking up some scent and then goes to the end of the hall that were a plain white door, locked.

“red! break this shit!” dynamight yelled, and red riot did just that. it opened, only a big room with just a mattress and— what seemed to be blood filled bags. all labeled as ‘o positive’ or ‘a positive’. bakugou’s heart raced, confusion but then his eyes looked.

to say he felt his heart rate went through the roof, a cold blooded shot ran through his body and he wanted to vomit right then and there.

“dude, you good?—“ chargebolt came up and pat his back, until he saw the familiar frame, the hair he used to enjoy seeing from time and time again.

‘team b, what do you got?’

the day comes back, the night you and katsuki had been the ones who were kidnapped. you werent scared, your quirk could get you out, along with katsuki’s.

but, thats not what happened, was it?

you remember his words, “ill keep you safe, you have’ta work with me, though , stupid.” his way of saying he’d protect you from the villains. especially since your quirk was deemed ‘villainous.’

but thats not what happened, was it? you poor thing.

having to see your highschool boyfriend being the one rescued. it stung, screaming for him— yet, he never looked back to see if you were behind him. he just left you, immediately jumping the gun to get the fuck out of the problem.

now that, thats what betrayal was.

and on top of that, he never made an effort to come and get you from what was the league.

how you became a red heart, it was a distant memory.

your body laid there, almost lifeless— well, it was. its been lifeless for many, many years. ever since you were a child, and taking after your fathers’ quirk.

you were cold, but warm. dead, but alive.

contempt, yet enraged.

dynamight, in his peripheral vision, sees a few officers raise their rifles at the body, until he shouts a hard ‘no!’ at them, and whispers. “i know her..”

kaminari just stands there, wide eyed along with kirishima. both felt a wave of guilt, until it was just kirishima who felt the world on his shoulders, feeling at guilt.

“how did…” kaminari starts trying to piece it all together, before he short circuits. “we— i thought we—“

“we never rescued her..” kirishima bites the inside of his cheek, his quirk hardening and cutting his skin. “i never..”

katsuki turns back to you, pressing the button on his headset and speaking.

“the red hearts arent here.” he says, eyes burning from the subtle panic attack. “eraserhead, come in here.”

the old teacher of yuuei rushed down, his own blood running rampant.

and a wave of relief, guilt, and shame came at once.. finding his old student .

END OF PROLOGUE— CHAPTER ONE COMING SOON.

[staryscorner]

Someone tries to flirt with their significant other

Characters: Gi-hun, The Salesman, Se-mi, and Hyun-ju

Y/n is gender neutral reader

Warnings: None just mention of cheating and alcohol

Pt1 | PT2

Gi-hun-

Gi- hun and you would go out every Friday to bet on horse races. It was one of your favorite date night ideas since you would either walk out with a pocket full of money or empty ones but both your hearts full of love. On one of these dates night Gi-hun actually won quite a lot so he went to the front box to collect it. So you were left there alone looking to see if you had also won and you did you jumped up in happiness and you were about to head to where Gi-hun was but a strange women decided to cling to your arm “Oh hey I see that you won so how about you take 

me out.” You tried to wiggle yourself but you couldn't since she kept gripping your arm harder. 

Gi hun was on his way back to you when he saw the scene of a random lady holding on to you so when you looked over to where he was you just lip whispered help me and he was glad to do so. “Um miss could you please let go of my S/o” “And who do you think you are” The lady hissed at him. 

“I'm their boyfriend!” He shouted “So you better not mess with them” She let go of you so fast and just covered her face due to everyone watching. Your bf made you wrap your arm around him and you both walked off laughing at what just happened “Thanks for saving me there” you told him as you kissed his cheek.

The Salesman-

After getting married with the love of your life you were both unable to be apart from each other. The only times where you both weren’t together was when he had to work. So whenever he left you would just stay home and do the chores since he would bring the money home it was the least you could do. It was about that time that he would come around so when you heard the doorbell you thought it was him “Welcome back hon-” You soon notice that it wasn't him just some door to door salesman. “Oh hello, how could I help you?” “I was wondering if you might have some time to hear about these products we sell” He said, grabbing the door making sure you couldn’t close it “Well-l” “It will only be a few minutes” As he began to speak about the products he eye’s lingered on your body. “If you don't mind me saying that outfit you have on looks nice nice on you body” he growled at you. You felt disgusted. Was he looking at your body this whole time!? You wanted to push the door shut but you couldn't since he had a firm grip on it. You soon saw a taller figure behind him that pulled him right to the floor. It was your lovely husband. “WTF was that?” When he saw the taller man that pulled him he became quiet. “Honey was this disgusting human talking to you” You just nodded and knew what was about to happen.

“Sweetie, could you serve us dinner? I'll be right back ok!” he smiled at you while holding the salesman by the collar. You don't question it and do what he told you to do. After only 5 minutes he came back with some blood on his face and his hair kinda messy.

“I'm glad I got here in time” he said, giving you a passionate kiss. You just melted in his kiss forgetting all that happened.

Se-mi-

Being the bold person that she is you knew what she was going to do

Both you and Se-mi were invited to a mutual friend party. You both dressed in matching colors so others knew you were both in a relationship. But without you knowing your friend invited your ex and to say that things ended awful was an understatement. 

When you both arrived you went to greet your mutual friend. The party was already halfway in so people were already tipsy. You both made it around greeting new and old friends and then you saw them….your ex. 

You told Se-mi you were going to the bathroom to freshen up. Your ex was listening in on the conversation and began plotting something. Once you left the bathroom someone pulled you into a corner. It was them. “Please take me back Y/n I beg you without you i'm lost.” They reeked of alcohol so you knew they weren’t in the right state of mind. She began to get touchy with you. “Please get away, I don't want to have anything to do with you” You said trying to push them off you. Before anything could happen Se-mi waltz in and slapped them making sure everyone's attention was on her. “If you’re here to hit on other people's partners then what type of human being are you?” She grabbed you in and kissed you in front of everyone. This is my love so you better not get in between us and if you do then you better watch your backs. She apologies to the host before leaving. 

Once you made it to her car you broke down. She listened to everything that happened and comforted you. I’ll always be here for you “I love you” she said “ I love you too” 

Hyun-ju-

While walking around the mall you and your girlfriend passed by a perfume shop so both decided to check it out. Once you enter you both get bombarded by workers asking if they wanted to try a sample of perfume. You didn't want to be mean and say no since they were just doing their job so you let them spray each perfume on you. 

You soon started to feel dizzy and almost fainted but you fell into one of the workers arms. “I think an angel fell into my arms.” You got up quickly stumbling back a bit as you did. “I'm sorry but I have a girlfr-” she soon stopped you from finishing your sentence and asked if you wanted to be there S/o and if you did then it would be a match made in heaven. You wanted to get away but you thought it would be rude. 

Hyun ju knew you weren’t a mean person and wasn't going to speak up so she went over and introduced herself. After Hyun-ju introduced herself to the worker she was in shock “OMG I'm so sorry I didn't mean to just flirt with them. I just thought since they were alone they weren't with anyone.” She apologized again before coming over and giving a free perfume. Sorry again for the inconvenience. You accept her apologies. Before leaving Hyun ju said “I hope you one day find your angle like I did.” You blushed at her words and quickly covered your face. “Thank you” she said as she watched you both walk hand in hand.

Here's Pt2!! So I did end up getting it done today and i'm glad I did!! If there's any other characters you want to see please suggest them!! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

[gliphyartfan]

Do you know Dr. Stone? If so, can I have the Chain with a fem human reader who is like Senku? The reader takes advantage of being in Hyrule to do research on the different species that exist there and does experiments or machines that the Chain doesn't know about and using the Chain as guinea pigs to learn more about the biology of the Hylians.

I am…SOMEWHAT familiar with Dr.Stone? Not enough to be part of the fandom, I just know a vague gist, but a crazy scientist reader shouldn’t be too hard to figure out ! (Has to give the wiki a quick scan tho…😅)

——————

Let’s face it, Reader is a menace. A lovable menace, sure, but a menace nonetheless. They had too many ideas, too much knowledge, and zero fear of experimenting on the people around them.

The Chain quickly realized that you weren’t JUST curious about Hyrule’s different species, you were curious about EVERYTHING. Every village you passed through was a new research opportunity.

Gorons? Reader poked at their rocky skin, tested their body heat, and theorized why they could survive on a diet of literal rocks. Zoras? Reader studied their scales, their gills, even how their body structure compared to fish. Rito?

They nearly plucked a feather off a passing child before Twilight stopped them.

Reader: ”For SCIENCE, Twi! You don’t understand.”

Twilight: ”Only thing I understand is that you’re about to get your ass kicked by an entire flock of angry Rito parents.”

But the real problem?

The Chain was their easiest test subjects.

Hylian biology wasn’t anything too different from what they already knew, but they still had so many questions.

Why were some Hylians taller than others? Were their ears actually good at hearing? How different was their anatomy from a normal human?

Reader poked, prodded, and took notes on everything. They even tried to draw their anatomy from what they could figure out. (Sky was so red when he saw the diagrams, Legend smacked them over the head, and Hyrule just turned and walked away.)

Reader’s biggest victim? Wild.

Why?

Because he lets them.

Reader “Hey, Wild, can I take a sample of your hair?”

Wild: “Sure, do you need a chunk or just a few strands?”

Wild: “What about a small blood sample? Nothing major, just a few drops.”

Wild: “Eh, why not.”

Twilight stopped them from collecting his spit.

Reader: “IT’S FOR A PH TEST, YOU COUNTRY BUMPKIN.”

Twilight: “WHAT EVEN IS THAT?!? YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW THE pH OF HIS SPIT, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU.”

Reader took advantage of the fantasy setting to its fullest. Hyrule had magic, unexplainable creatures, literal deities, and they were going to study all of it.

When they realized that the Sheikah Slate had materials and blueprints from an advanced civilization, Wild barely had time to react before they yanked it from his hands. It took a whole week for him to get it back.

Wild: Reader, give me my Slate.

Reader: “I am doing RESEARCH.”

Wild: “IT’S MINE.”

Reader also invented shit.

Without modern resources, they had to get creative. Thwy used the environment, Wild’s cooking materials, and whatever spare parts the Chain had to make weapons, tools, even small gadgets.

The first time they made a small explosive, Time nearly had an aneurysm.

Time: “NO MORE BLOWING THINGS UP.”

Reader: “It’s for DEFENSE, OLD MAN.”

Warriors was their second biggest victim.Why? Because they used him as a guinea pig for their “hybrid energy” experiments.

Reader: “Okay, so technically, Hylian magic is a force field of energy produced from within, right? So, theoretically, if I adjust the angle and density of my conductive rods, I should be able to create an artificial current—”

Warriors, exasperated but curious: “Reader, are you trying to electrocute me?”

Reader: “It’s FOR SCIENCE, CAPTAIN.”

Legend was your biggest hater.

A few things the vet has said to them:

“Oh, great, what’s the lunatic trying to build now?”

“Reader, if you explode something again, I’m throwing you in the nearest lake.”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME WITH THAT NEEDLE.”

(To name a few)

But the moment he got injured, Reader was the first person he went to because their medicine worked better than potions and elixirs at times.

“Shut up,” he muttered as Reader smirked at him. “You’re the only one with antibiotics.”

“Oh? So you need me?”

“I WILL STAB YOU.”

They once started a fire in the middle of camp just to see how different types of wood burned.

Time banned them from touching firewood for a month.

Overall?

The Chain loved them, but they were a constant headache.

Reader was the only person who wanted to be in Hyrule for the sake of research, and even though their experiments terrified them, they couldn’t help but admire their genius.

Even if it meant they had to keep a close eye on them before they accidentally (re)invented nuclear warfare.

(Moment Wild mentioned Purah’s antics, the chain were horrified at the inevitable possibility of what the both of them would do together. So they drive to keep Reader as far from Purah as possible. It’s inevitable tho so..:sucks for them 😆)

[oh-no-its-bird]

Who do u guys think makes bingo books. Is there like. A committee? Are there village specific bingo books? I feel like there is, right? Does that mean all the villages are just constantly playing catch up with eachothers books?

Before the villages, did they still have bingo books? Who made them then? Did each clan have their own books? And different webs of allied clans would have better, bigger, more informed books because they had access to eachothers information? If there was a general "good" bingo book with the best, most reliable information, then who was compiling that? Was it a specific guy or a group? With how isolated and uncooperative so many clans were back then, if the books were maintained by individual clans, then there must have been so many types of bingo books. Or maybe there were a few specific clans who would produce them...? I can see that as a Nara thing.

Id like to believe some nin like collecting old bingo books.

From enemies, as trophies. Bought from markets or found in old abandoned shinobi bases and clan homes. Passed down from a grandfather along with stories of having faced off with the unfamiliar, powerful nin from ages past recorded inside them.... the options are limitless.

I think many nin add their own little notes to their own bingo books, opinions, doodles, theories on enemy nin, etc. So collectors will value books with notes in it, especially if the books used to belong to a famous shinobi (cool insight into their mind !!) or is really old (cool time capsule comments on shinobi from forever ago !!)

You can make some serious money on an old bingo book filled with personal notes that belonged to a famous shinobi...

Rumor has it the first Hokage's bingo book was sold off by Tsunade to cover her gambling debts. And that when the Nidaime's bingo book dissapeared into the pockets of one of his students after his death, people were straight up ready to kill to get it back— but no one knew who'd taken it (it was Danzo)

Jiriyah lost his old bingo book from the war in a bet, and was surprisingly, genuinley upset over it die to the sentimental value. It was sold for some crazy money later on, as it had personal notes and doodles from all sorts of famous shinobi inside of it

Jiriyah, Tsunade and Orochimaru all drew over eachothers photos in their section of the book, and all three left sarcastic comments in many a corners. Minato left his own comment or two, as Jiriyah asked him to sign his own page after he broke S rank, to celebrate. Then Sarutobi also left some comments here and there too, and Sakumo had actually left more than a few— signing his own page, writing a little congratulations under Minato's S rank, drawing a wolf in the corner of Orchimaru's page after Jiriyah insisted he join him in defacing it, etc.

Jiriyah's bingo book being his team's official unofficial shared bingo book... all three of the sanin tossing it around and marking off shinobi they'd fought, leaving stupid notes and doodles for the others to find later, getting other shinobi to sign it on their own pages.....

I think a lot of shinobi do similar things with "personalizing" their own books, but the sanin certainly ended up creating one of the most valuable with their own endeavors

And then in Boruto, bingo books are probable even more of a collectors item. Especially w shinobi becoming even more commercialized / sort of idol-ified

Just like how some middle aged dad's will save up their baseball card collection to one day sell, telling their children it will be their college fund one day, shinobi are doing similar things with their bingo books

(One of the most valuable editions of the bingo book was the one produced exclusively during the war with Madara, covering many, many shinobi, both dead and alive. Only so many ended up being printed, as the war ended up being shorter than expected, and while there are newer knockoffs and reprints, OG books from that period can make some crazy money.)

[smilingformoney]

Die With a Smile

Chapter VI. Never Tear Us Apart

Summary: Every action has a reaction, but nothing lasts forever.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Mary had never expected to get married, but of course, she’d fantasised about it. When she was fixing a hand-me-down wedding dress, she’d wonder about the kind of dress she might wear. She thought about children, and the sort of things married couples did to create them, and though she yearned for a brood of her own, she never thought she’d have one. She’d accepted long ago that her purpose in life was to protect Tommy, and maybe one day he’d be the one to find a nice girl to marry.

She’d thought about a wedding day, the first night, the life that comes after. She’d fantasised about what life would be like to live amongst the gentry.

She’d never imagined it would be like this.

Elliott was right. Turpin only wanted her for her body. He filled her up with his seed at every opportunity, at minimum every morning and every night. He’d mutter filth into her ear as he fucked her, telling her how good she’d look once her belly began to grow with his child.

The rest of the time, he ignored her. He spent most of the day at court, and if his evenings weren’t spent socialising with his peers, he sat at his desk and worked on his paperwork. Sometimes he’d have visitors over, other important-looking men who sat around drinking gin and smoking cigars, talking about whatever men talked about.

Mary always had to stay out of sight when visitors came over. She didn’t mind that. Turpin’s friends frightened her almost as much as he did. And sometimes he’d be too drunk for sex, so she’d have a night of respite, and sometimes a morning too if his hangover was too troublesome.

At least when he was out, Mary could see Tommy. They’d go out into the courtyard and play games, and because he was acting under orders of the Lady of the House, the butler who bossed him around couldn’t tell him off.

She had a weekly allowance, which she used to buy materials, as Turpin had allowed her to turn Johanna’s old room into a makeshift workshop. She wasn’t to sell anything she made - Lord Turpin couldn’t have anyone thinking his wife had to make her own money - but he allowed her to do it as it kept her busy and out of the way. She mostly made children’s clothes, and at night Tommy would sneak out with them and give them to Mrs Harris to hand them out to the children who lived on the street, those who had once been Mary and Tommy’s friends.

After the first month, Mary worked up the courage to ask Turpin about the promise he’d made.

She knew she had to get him in a good mood first. Some days he ordered her to visit him at court during lunch, so when he sat at his desk with a sigh of frustration, Mary obediently knelt between his legs and took him in her mouth.

When he finished, she licked him clean, then sat on his lap as he tucked into the sandwich she’d brought him.

“Sir, might I ask you about something?”

Turpin grunted through a mouthful of sandwich.

“When you proposed to me, you said you’d put Tommy into school. Did you really mean that?”

Turpin snorted derisively, then swallowed.

“Yes, I did. But surely you don’t expect me to follow through on that, do you?”

Mary blinked in surprise. “Oh - um —”

“You also told me you’d marry me, then promptly made every effort not to do so. I don’t see why I should follow through on my promise when you tried so ardently not to follow through on yours. He’s working in the kitchens, that’ll teach him everything he needs, and I’ll hear no more on the subject.”

“…Right. Of course. Sorry, sir.”

After Turpin returned to court, Mary went down to the Post Office.

She was learning to read and write, but her progress was slow. All she had were the letters Elliott had taught her. She had to put words together bit by bit, and no doubt her spelling was atrocious. Fortunately, since very few people in London could read or write, the Post Office offered a scribe to write out dictated letters to those who could pay. And thanks to her allowance from Turpin, Mary could pay.

Once the letter was written, she almost cried when the scribe read it back to her.

Dearest Elliott,

I know you must hate me, but I beg of you not to throw this letter in the fire. When I first accepted William’s proposal, before I knew of your feelings for me, he promised an education for Tommy. I know now he has no intention of following through on that promise. I cannot stand the thought of him spending his life in the kitchens, but it seems William is determined to leave him there. I know he would thrive with you. I don’t ask you to adopt him as you said. Employ him as you would any other, if you must. But please, I beg of you, take him away with you. I know I would never see him again. But I’d rather he leave forever, and know he’ll thrive, than have him by my side but wasting away in the kitchens. I know I ask a lot. But Tommy is only a boy. None of this is his fault. I won’t ask you to forgive me, and if you refuse, I’ll understand. But please, if you truly loved me, do this one thing for me. For Tommy.

All my love, Mary

She gave the return address as Mrs Harris’ shop, and waited anxiously for a reply. Even just to hear a “no.” And when the night came that Tommy delivered the weekly bundle of children’s clothes to Mrs Harris, Mary waited for his return, hoping he’d come back before Turpin woke up and found her missing from the bed.

The response she received was worse than a no.

Tommy handed her an envelope addressed to her, and inside was another envelope - her own letter returned, unopened. With it a note. By candlelight, and with much difficulty, Mary managed to read:

Lady Turpin,

I return your letter unopened. Although curious, it’s not for me to interrupt the communiqué of lovers. My nephew left for Australia mere hours after you left for London. He’ll be almost to Cape Town by now. Below is his address in Australia. Though I warn you, you may wait six months before receiving any reply. Good luck.

Sincerely, Duke R. Beaumont

Mary tore off the bottom part of the letter containing Elliott’s address, stashed it away between the pages of her sketchbook, and promptly burnt both her unopened letter and the body of the Duke’s response.

It was another hour before she went back to bed, once her tears had dried. She knew Turpin would never stand for her crying in bed, much less if he knew the reason for her tears.

It was about two months into the marriage that Mary realised one day that she hadn’t yet had her monthly - not, she realised, since the week before she’d met Elliott. The only bleeding she had was after sex, when Turpin hadn’t prepared her properly.

She tried not to think too much of it. But when she began bringing her food back up for no apparent reason, she couldn’t deny the truth.

She told Turpin her suspicions one night after he’d finished, and in a rare display of emotion other than irritation or lust, he grinned with excitement and kissed her.

“Oh, darling, I knew you’d be able to give me a son! Such a good, dutiful wife.”

He took her again, the news apparently springing his cock back to life, and held her close against his body as he thrust into her.

“What a good wife you are, taking my seed so well… mhm, yes, I can’t wait to see you swell. My perfect wife, carrying my son…”

He’s not your son.

The thought came unbidden, but Mary knew it was true. Logically, she couldn’t. She couldn’t even know it was a boy, let alone that Elliott would be the father. But something deep inside her - perhaps her mother’s instinct, or perhaps something deeper, something in her soul - it told her the truth. Yes, she was carrying a son, but not her husband’s son.

She swore to herself, there and then, as her husband spilled his seed inside her for the second time that night, that he would never learn the truth.

She was already lying to him. He still thought that he’d taken her virginity the night he’d snuck into her bed and raped her. What harm could it do to let him think the child was his?

When the baby was born, Mary had little choice over the name. He was William Turpin’s first son, so tradition dictated he would also be William Turpin.

It felt strange, though, to call her son the same name as her husband, so she nicknamed the child Billy.

Turpin wasted no time trying to get Mary pregnant again. She was exhausted from spending all day looking after the baby, too tired for sex, so she simply laid there and let her husband do what he needed to do. He quickly got bored of that, though, so he hired a nanny to help look after the child, giving Mary some time to rest.

Not because he loved her, or because he cared about her needs. Mary had accepted a long time ago that things like care and kindness were things she’d never get from him. But it was because, he told her, she had a duty to her husband. And, despite everything, she was still attracted to him, so when she had the energy for sex again, she was an eager participant.

It was really the only connection they had. And because he kept her inside, it was pretty much the only connection she had at all other than Tommy. So Mary took what Turpin would give her, and if that was nothing but sexual chemistry, then so be it.

It wasn’t long before she was pregnant again. She recognised the symptoms straight away this time, but there were some other symptoms she was more concerned about than her own.

Turpin was sick.

The doctor threw every treatment he could think of at him, but sickness was even more powerful than the great Judge Turpin, and he died within a week of falling ill.

Mary sat dutifully by his bed every day, nursing him the best she could, making sure he got as much time with little Billy as he could.

He must have known when he was about to pass. He’d been stubbornly trying to get up and go to work all week, even flirting with Mary as if he was in any state to do anything. But that day, he’d been lethargic and quiet, not like himself at all. And as Mary rocked Billy to sleep in her arms, Turpin just watched her.

“Mary,” he croaked when she returned from putting the boy in his crib. “Mary. Mary…”

“Yes, I’m here, Will,” Mary said softly as she sat back down and took his hand in hers. His hand that looked nothing like his hand, now it was ghostly pale and thin, hardly capable of moving.

“Mary… I need you to tell me the truth. I know… I know you loved Elliott. Tell me… is the boy his?”

Lying to him was almost second nature to her now.

“No. No, he’s not, Will. I’ve only ever been with you. You know that.”

Turpin let out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “Mary, I’m so sorry. For taking your innocence as I did, for forcing you to marry me. Elliott was right. You can tell him that, from me. He said so, didn’t he? He said I’d die miserable and alone, that no one could ever love me.”

“You’re not alone,” Mary said earnestly. “I’m here.”

Turpin looked at her and smiled.

“I couldn’t help falling in love with you.”

Mary wiped away a tear.

When she looked back at him, he was gone.

She cried. She didn’t know why. She hated him, didn’t she? He’d trapped her, hadn’t he?

But he was her husband, and he’d been alive, and now he was neither of those things.

So she cried.

- - -

Elliott was having a lot of fun playing with his food.

Ever since his return to Australia, his men had noticed a change in him. He’d always been ruthless; he’d slaughter an Aborigine camp without a second thought just to get a nice spot to build a new pigsty. But something had changed, and nobody dared ask why, because just the slightest change in the wind was enough to set him off.

He had a vendetta, but the source of his ire was back in London, so he took his frustrations out on anyone who pissed him off.

And for the last few weeks, that someone had been Matthew Quigley.

Now, he had his prize in front of him. The great Quigley, the hero of the Aborigines, the fucking pain in Elliott’s backside. He thought he could show up, take Elliott’s money, and refuse him. Well, nobody said no to Elliott Marston. Certainly no one who lived to tell the tale.

“Now you’re right in front of my old pistol target,” Elliott laughed. How many times had he practised shooting here, imagining himself in a duel with some outlaw? Now here he was, laying down the law - his law, on his land - and the American cowboy was no match for his quick draw.

“Some men —” Elliott began, but he cut himself off when he heard the familiar sound of a horse’s hooves on the ground, the creaking of wooden wheels turning.

Elliott frowned as he looked in the distance at the approaching carriage. He wasn’t expecting any visitors.

“O’Flynn, get the gate,” Elliott commanded. “Dobkin — take back the revolver, make sure he can’t do anything while my back is turned.”

His two remaining men ran to follow Elliott’s command, both well trained by now to obey him without question.

Elliott watched as the carriage came closer and passed through his gate. He thought it intriguing that it was a carriage, not a wagon. The visitor must be someone important, or unused to Australian heat, or both, with very little luggage.

The driver finally pulled to a stop and hopped down to open the carriage door. Elliott approached with a mixture of caution and curiosity. The door opened, the driver gave a small bow, and held out his hand to help the mysterious occupant down.

It was a good thing Elliott’s gun was still in its holster. He might have dropped it in shock.

He never thought he’d see her again. He’d resigned himself to a life without her, come to terms with the fact she’d been a fleeting light in the darkness. He’d neither love nor marry again, and that was something he’d accepted months ago.

Yet here she was, as beautiful as the day she’d left for London, despite his begging and his promises. She’d left with a cloud of misery hanging over her shoulders, and leaving another hanging over him too.

She reached back into the carriage for something. She pulled back, and the driver closed the door as Mary straightened up, holding…

A baby.

She had a baby.

She turned, her eyes searching, and when she spotted him, she smiled. A true, radiant smile that, although Elliott didn’t know it, she hadn’t sported in a very long time.

“Mary…” Elliott croaked. He took a few steps towards her, then jogged the rest of the way, too impatient to walk.

“Mary, what - what are you doing here?”

Elliott glanced around, wondering who else might be in the carriage, but he saw no sign of the man who’d torn them apart.

“You said you’d wait for me,” Mary said hesitantly. “…Did you?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I did, I… oh, Mary, look at you.” Elliott took her face in his hands as if to check she were real. “I could never love anyone but you. But why — where —?”

“He died,” Mary said, answering the question he was hesitating to ask. “Some sickness, it took him quick. I sold everything and bought us passage to Australia. I don’t expect anything from you, Elliott, but… I wanted you to meet your son.”

“My —?”

Elliott looked down at the baby in her arms, one hand carefully reaching out to cradle the boy’s round, bald head.

“The moment I knew he was there, I knew he was yours. I just knew.”

She didn’t have to explain. There was no science to prove it, the timing told them nothing, but Elliott knew it too. He could tell, looking at this tiny human clinging to his mother, that he was his son.

“What’s his name?”

“I didn’t dare tell him he was yours, so I didn’t have much choice. Everyone calls him Billy, though.”

“Hello, Billy,” Elliott said softly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Buh,” said Billy, and his tiny fingers wrapped around Elliott’s thumb.

“What a gentleman, he’s shaking your hand!” Mary laughed.

“He certainly is. Oh, Mary, he’s perfect.”

He looked up at her, a grin on his face and the threat of tears in his eyes.

“Just like his mother.”

Mary smiled coyly. Over her shoulder, Elliott saw the driver unloading the bags from the back of the carriage. And with him, a few inches taller than Elliott remembered, was Tommy.

“Tommy!” Elliott called. “I’m glad to see you’re alright!”

Tommy waved back, then turned his attention to the bag he was lifting. Elliott turned back towards his men, who were both standing guard over Quigley, watching with no doubt a lot of confusion.

“O’Flynn, keep an eye on him. Dobkin - put the boy’s bags in the lodge, and Mary’s in my house.”

“You’ll - you’ll let us stay?” Mary said cautiously.

“Mr Marston, what’re we doing with him?” O’Flynn called over, interrupting before Elliott could respond.

Elliott rolled his eyes. He glanced lazily over at Quigley, who was still standing by the fencepost, not daring to move with no gun to defend himself with and O’Flynn standing guard.

He’d spent the last few weeks obsessing over capturing Quigley, and now, Elliott found he didn’t care about playing with his food. The man had to be executed, and Elliott would certainly not be giving him a gun for a duel, not with three precious lives so close.

He whipped his pistol out and shot Quigley clean in the head.

Mary yelped in surprise, and her hand flew to cover Billy’s exposed ear, the other already pressed against her chest.

“Chuck him in a ditch somewhere,” Elliott called back to O’Flynn before reholstering his gun and turning back to Mary, who was staring in shock at Quigley’s dead body.

“Elliott, you killed him!”

“Sorry, darling, you came right in the middle of his execution. He’s a dangerous man — or was, anyway,” Elliott smirked. “He killed almost all of my men. Dobkin and O’Flynn are all that’s left. I can’t have him free, especially not with you here. Come on — let’s get you out of the sun. Dobkin will get your bags.”

Elliott put an arm around Mary’s waist and guided her towards his house.

“I know you told me how big Australia is, Elliott, but it’s hard to comprehend until you see it. It’s enormous! I thought we must have been going in circles with how long it took to get here from Perth. And the driver told me most of the land we crossed is yours!”

“It certainly is,” Elliott said with pride. “And I took about another 200 acres of farmland after I came back. Here we are. Do you want some water? You must be parched.”

Once inside, he guided her to the sofa, and gestured to his butler to bring her some water. Elliott sat down next to Mary and rubbed her back gently as she adjusted Billy to sit on her lap.

“Was the journey okay for you? I know how arduous that boat journey can be, and the ride here from Perth isn’t exactly fun either.”

The butler set down a tray on the side table and Elliott dismissed him with a wave of his hand so he could pour Mary a drink himself.

“Honestly, Elliott, it was awful. As it turns out, I get horribly seasick. I was so worried for the baby, but everybody was so lovely to me. People would give me portions of their food to make sure I ate enough, even though most of it ended up coming back out again.”

“Well, you’ll just have to make sure you never make that journey again,” Elliott said cheekily. “Good thing everything you need is here. And how’s Tommy? I’m glad to see he seems to be alright, I was worried that even if you married William, he’d still harm him.”

Mary smiled gratefully as she took the glass of water from Elliott.

“Oh, Elliott. You really worried about Tommy?”

“Of course I did. I’ve been worried for both of you. Trapped in a house with him — I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.”

Mary took a long drink of her water.

“It wasn’t too awful. He ignored me most of the time except when he wanted sex. He could be callous, but he wasn’t cruel, not really. He never wanted to hurt me — he just didn’t care if he did. So long as I was obedient, he treated me well enough. I had an allowance and he even let me set up a workshop in Johanna’s old room. And I taught myself to read! I used the letters you taught me to figure out words in books. I’m not so good at writing, though.”

“Then I suppose I ought to teach you. Tommy, too. And Billy, once he’s old enough. Would you like that, Billy?”

“Ga ba da ga!” Billy replied when Elliott looked down at him with a smile.

“What about you, Elliott? Are you alright? I tried to write to you after a month or so, but your uncle told me you’d left soon after I did, and I was too ashamed to write to you here.”

“You’re the one who was forced into a loveless marriage, and you’re worried if I’m alright?”

“I broke your heart, Elliott,” Mary said in a small voice, hanging her head slightly in shame. “It’s haunted me every day.”

“Hey.” Elliott took her chin between his fingers and forced her to look up at him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and her lip began to wobble.

“It - it is my fault, though. Oh, Elliott, I’m so sorry!” Mary sobbed, and Elliott immediately wrapped an arm around her and held her close, rubbing her arm soothingly.

“It’s not your fault, Mary,” Elliott said again. “It was his. He took Tommy hostage and forced you to marry him. You had no choice. I know that.”

Billy seemed to notice his mother’s distress, because he started crying too.

Elliott was at a bit of a loss. He was exhausted from being awake all night watching out for Quigley, and now he had a crying woman and a crying child in his lounge.

Fortunately, at that moment Tommy and Dobkin came in with the bags. Dobkin was as confused as Elliott, but Tommy simply put down the bags he was carrying and came over to pick Billy up.

The child clung to him, and Elliott realised that Billy must recognise Tommy as caregiver just as much as he did Mary.

Tommy carried Billy outside to soothe him, and Mary took the opportunity of being babyless to wrap her arms around Elliott’s waist and bury her head against his chest. Tears were still streaming down her face, but Elliott realised he didn’t give two figs if she got his shirt wet.

“Take her bags to my room,” Elliott said to Dobkin, then turned his attention back to Mary. He didn’t know what to do or say, but she seemed to want to be held, so he wrapped his arms tight around her and held her close, rubbing her back and muttering words of sympathy against the top of her head as she sobbed.

After Dobkin left, not without another uneasy glance at the mysterious crying woman who’d suddenly appeared, Elliott and Mary were left alone for a little while — that was, until the door opened again, and one of the Aborigine women backed into the room, apparently carrying something.

“What do you want?” Elliott snapped.

Mary looked up, curious, still sniffling although her sobs had subsided.

The woman didn’t respond. She just carried on into the house, followed by another of the women, who was carrying the other end of —

“A cot!” Mary gasped.

It was rudimentary, and Elliott would definitely have to send someone to Perth to get a good and proper one made, but it was a cot.

“Put it in the bedroom,” Elliott commanded when the women hesitated, unsure where he would want it. They obeyed, and when they emerged, they kept their heads bowed respectfully as they passed back through the lounge to leave.

“Thank you!” Mary called after them. They paused, evidently surprised to be thanked, then curtsied clumsily towards her before leaving.

“Oh, Elliott, they gave us a cot! How kind! I must see it!”

Mary sprung to her feet, her tears apparently forgotten, and Elliott had to hurry to follow her into his bedroom, where the cot had been placed against a wall.

She examined it with a grin on her face. It was literally made of sticks stuck together with resin, the most basic, clumsy cot that Elliott could have imagined. Billy had probably had a significantly fancier cot back in London.

And yet, Mary loved it. Something about the rudimentary cot that had been made by an Aborigine whore for her halfling child was magical to Mary, and that was what Elliott loved so much about her. She saw wonder in everything — even him.

He couldn’t resist her.

“Mary…”

Elliott crossed the room in a few long strides and took her in his arms, pulling her in for a kiss. Their lips met, and Mary reciprocated eagerly. Her lips were still a little wet with tears, but Elliott didn’t care. She was here, she was real, and she was his. That was all that mattered.

He placed his hands on her waist, ready to encourage her out of her dress, when he felt a strange fluttering coming from her belly.

Mary broke the kiss and looked down, laughing. She took Elliott’s hand and guided it over her belly.

“Someone’s saying hello.”

He’d been so focused on her, he hadn’t looked at her belly. Hadn’t noticed the way it protruded just a little. Not obviously, easily missed, but now that he looked, it was clear as day.

She was pregnant.

Pregnant with his cousin’s child.

The thought didn’t anger Elliott as he would have expected it to. So what if he was a Turpin by blood? Elliott would make sure he was a Marston by name. Billy and Tommy too. He’d adopt them both, and if Mary wanted more children, he’d give her more. They were her sons, and that was enough for Elliott — they’d be his too.

“Marry me.”

Mary looked up at him, eyes wide.

“You’re certain? Even after everything that’s happened? Even - even with a child that’s not yours?”

“But he is mine. Because he’s part of you, and you are mine. I told you that a long time ago, didn’t I? I’ll adopt Billy, Tommy too, and we’ll have more if you want more. I’ve got plenty of space. We’ll have a whole litter if you want. Just say yes, Mary. Say you’ll marry me.”

She beamed up at him with the most adorable smile he’d ever seen. It lit up not just her face, but the entire room, and Elliott’s heart with it.

“Oh, Elliott, of course I’ll marry you! I won’t let anybody come between us this time, I swear it!”

“Perhaps we should do it quickly, just in case,” Elliott said, only half-joking.

“I know you jest, Elliott, but let’s do it! I don’t need a big fancy ceremony, I already had one of those and I hated it. All I want is to pledge my heart to you.”

“Alright, then,” Elliott agreed. “There’s a chapel in Meekathanga nearby. Let’s see if the chaplain’s at home, shall we?”

Elliott barked some orders at his men outside, instructing one of them to clean up the bodies that Mary hadn’t even noticed were scattered around, and he sent the other to Meekathanga to bring back the chaplain.

“Oh, and if you find any men looking for work, tell them I’ve got plenty of work and gold for them,” Elliott added as an afterthought. “I can’t be picky, so take deserters if you must. I’m sure Ashley-Pitt will forgive me, given the circumstances.”

“Elliott, why are there so many dead bodies around here?” Mary asked with trepidation as Tommy handed a now calmed Billy back to her to feed.

“Thank God you didn’t arrive earlier. Quigley, the man I shot earlier - he’s been on a rampage across the Outback recently. Murdered nearly all my men last night. Fortunately I - bloody hell, darling, warn me before you get your tits out, won’t you? I’m as weak a man as any.”

Mary laughed as she held Billy up to her breast and he eagerly latched onto her nipple to feed.

“This is what they’re made for, you know.”

“They can have two purposes. There are two of them, after all. One for him and one for me.”

He grinned cheekily, leaning against the pillar of his porch as Mary sat in the shade with Billy in her arms, and Mary thought he looked particularly handsome out here, in his natural environment. London had never suited him. It was too cramped, too stuffy. Someone like Turpin might thrive there, but Elliott, he belonged out here, in his home country. It was very easy to believe that he owned the ground he walked on.

“What are you smiling at?” Elliott asked with a smirk.

“I was just thinking about how handsome you are.”

“Oh, really? And how handsome am I, exactly?”

“Handsome enough that I sailed halfway around the world just to see your face again.”

“Ah, so you’re only here for my looks!” Elliott put his hand to his heart in an imaginary wounded gesture. “What if I’d had a horrible accident that disfigured me, hm? Would you turn around and run back to London?”

Mary laughed. “No, of course not! I’d love you just the same no matter what. Even if you shaved!”

“Now that is love,” Elliott teased. “Maybe I’ll shave just to test that theory.”

“Oh, no, please don’t!” Mary said in alarm, and Elliott laughed to see just how much the thought of him shaving panicked her. “You look perfect just the way you are.”

“I’m joking, I’d never shave it off. It makes me look powerful, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes,” Mary agreed earnestly. “And I like the way it feels against my lips when we kiss.”

“Oh, you do, do you? So something like this?”

He crossed the gap between them, then leant down to kiss her — and cheekily grabbed her spare breast while he was at it.

“Elliott!” Mary laughed as he fondled her breast brazenly, for all to see — not that there was really anyone left to see.

“God, look at them, they’re so fucking full,” Elliott growled. “I knew pregnancy would suit you.”

“Elliott, stop it,” Mary blushed, covering up her breast again as she batted his hand away. “Not while I’m feeding, please. They get very sensitive.”

“Of course, darling,” Elliott said, and he kissed her gently on the head before pulling another chair over to sit next to her. He looked away for only a moment to grab the chair, and when he sat himself down and looked back at her, she had tears in her eyes. “Oh, Mary — did I do something wrong?”

Mary shook her head as she wiped a tear from her face.

“No. No, quite the opposite. Oh, Elliott, I’m sorry. That’s twice now I’ve cried since getting here.”

“Hey, it’s alright. You’re pregnant. If women weren’t unpredictable enough as it is, pregnant women are even worse. Is there something I can do?”

“No, Elliott, there’s nothing you can do. It’s just… oh, but I shouldn’t speak of William, it’s uncouth…”

“Nonsense. Tell me what you’re thinking, Mary. Tell me what’s got those pretty eyes all wet.”

He wiped away a tear from her cheek, and she smiled as she leaned into his touch.

“Well, it’s just… he used to do that too, he’d grab my breasts and - and even when I said it hurt, he didn’t care. He said that because we were married, they were his to play with as he pleased.”

Elliott sighed. There was no doubt about the fact that his cousin had left Mary with a lot of trauma. It was going to take him a long time to help her heal — and fortunately, they had the rest of their lives to do exactly that.

- - -

It was a good few hours to Meekathanga, and the same again in return. That left Mary and Elliott waiting all day for Dobkin to return with the chaplain — and, Elliott hoped, some new men looking for work. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage with just Dobkin and O’Flynn around.

Fortunately, they had a lot to entertain themselves with. Elliott introduced Mary to the horses in the stable, and the cattle in their pen, and he promised that when he next went out to tend to the sheep, she could come with him. He earned himself an extra kiss for that promise.

When the heat became too much for Mary, she said goodbye to the farm animals, and Elliott brought her back inside. Billy was getting restless in her arms, so she opened up one of her bags in the middle of the lounge and Elliott moved some furniture around to make some space for a little play area.

“I couldn’t bring much with me, but I brought his favourite toys,” Mary explained as Elliott rolled out a woollen blanket for her to lay Billy down. “He doesn’t really play with them as much as he tries to eat them.”

She put him on his back and placed his favourite coloured blocks just out of arm’s reach.

“You’re not going to give them to him?” Elliott asked with amusement.

“It’s important that he gets them himself so he learns to move. Look, see!”

She watched with a grin of pride on her face as Billy spotted the colourful blocks, reached out for them, and when he couldn’t grab them, he rolled over to his front to bring himself closer.

“Good boy!” Mary cheered. “Isn’t he clever, Elliott?”

“A veritable genius,” Elliott replied sarcastically as Billy began trying to put the square blocks in his mouth.

“Oh, shush,” Mary laughed. “It’s been difficult to teach him to roll over when he’s spent half his life on a moving boat. I imagine it must feel rather odd to him now to be on dry land.”

“Gahhh baya!” Billy exclaimed excitedly, holding up a blue block and showing it to Elliott.

“Do you want to play with papa, Billy?”

“Baga!” Billy replied, still trying to give Elliott the block.

“Alright. Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Elliott sighed. He looked the block from Billy. “Now what do I do?”

“Show him how to play with it!”

“It’s a cube, Mary, I don’t know how to play with it. Unless I’m supposed to eat it too?”

Mary plucked another block from the pile and placed it in front of Billy.

“Show him how to make a stack.”

“…Alright.”

Elliott placed the block he was holding on top of the other. Billy looked up at it, eyes wide and curious, then reached out and knocked it over with a squeal of joy.

“Hey, I built that!” Elliott protested indignantly, but Mary just laughed.

Billy, catching onto his mother’s mirth, laughed too, and he began banging the two blocks together, enjoying the clacking noise they made.

Mary turned to Elliott and looked up at him with a grin.

“He likes you! He doesn’t share his blocks with just anyone, you know. Do you think he can tell that you’re his papa?”

“Maybe. Did William ever play with him?”

Mary’s face dropped and she glanced away.

“No. He wouldn’t even hold him. He said he didn’t know what to do with a baby. As if any of us know… I certainly didn’t when Tommy was a baby, and I figured it out. He didn’t even try…”

Elliott rubbed her back soothingly. “It’s his loss, Mary. You won’t be doing any of this alone anymore. Tommy’s clearly good with him, and you’ve got me now. I can hire a nanny to come from Perth as well, if you like. You might need the help when Elliott Junior comes along and we’re trying to juggle two babies.”

“Elliott Junior?” Mary laughed. “Is that what we’re calling him, is it?”

“Well, why not? William named my son after himself. I might as well return the favour.”

“Well, I — I did have another name in mind. But if you really want to call him Elliott —”

“No, no, tell me,” Elliott said, placing his hand over hers. “What did you have in mind?”

Mary threaded her fingers through his.

“Well… your uncle was so kind to us. And after William died, I went to him, and he refused to listen to arguments when he proposed to buy everything from me. It was his idea, you know — he insisted on buying the house, the furniture, everything, under the condition I use the money to buy our transport here. I’m not sure he even wanted the house — I think he just knew I wouldn’t accept it as a gift. So, well, I was wondering… maybe we could call him Rupert.”

Elliott smiled. “You’re right, he was very kind to us. A byproduct of having nothing but daughters, I think, it turns a man soft. I’ll have to write to him and thank him for everything. But, I’ll be honest with you, Mary…”

“You don’t like the name?”

“It’s an awful name.”

Mary laughed. “Alright, alright, not Rupert. But maybe as a middle name?”

“A middle name, yes. What’s Billy’s middle name, by the way?”

“Sinclair Alexander Lionel. Why do rich people have so many names?”

“God knows. I think my father asked the same question, so I ended up with just the one.”

“Which is?”

“Elliott James Marston, at your service, milady,” Elliott said with a mock bow.

“Oh, James, that’s a lovely name! My parents didn’t even give me a surname, let alone a middle name. I was always just Mary. I added the Taylor on myself.”

“Sounds better than Mary Seamstress, I suppose.”

“Or Mary Theapprentice, that’s how Mrs Harris used to introduce me.”

“You know what name does sound good? Mary Marston.”

Mary blushed. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Oh, but I do like James. Maybe we can give him your middle name.”

“Well, James was my father. I wouldn’t mind naming him for my father.”

“And if it’s a girl? What was your mother’s name?”

“God, no, we’re not naming her after my mother. I adored her, of course, but her name was Eunice.”

“Oh, Lord, the Beaumonts didn’t have the best taste in names, did they?”

Elliott laughed. “No, they certainly didn’t. Is Mary Junior out of the question?”

“I’m not giving her my own name! What about Victoria, for the Queen?”

Elliott hesitated.

“Well, ah… I never told you this, but… I was married once before. Her name was Victoria.”

“Oh.” Mary bit her lip. “What - what happened?”

“The sickness took her. Too much sun can make you sick, and… well, it made her sick. This was… it must have been five years ago now that she died.”

“Oh, Elliott, I’m so sorry,” Mary said softly, stroking her thumb gently over the hand she was still holding. “How long were you married?”

“A year.” He frowned. “Strange, that we both were married for a year before they got sick. But Victoria was nothing like William, she was amazing. She really got stuck into farming the land, it was a matter of pride for her not to ask the men for help. That was her downfall, I think — she’d rather stay out working on something alone for hours than get it done in half the time with help. So she’d spend much longer in the sun than she should have… and it took her in the end.”

“She sounds wonderful. I wish I could have met her.”

“As fun as it might be in bed, I think two wives might be a little much to handle.”

Mary slapped Elliott playfully. “Get your mind out of the gutter, El! Honestly.”

“I’m just teasing you, Mary,” Elliott replied, tickling her back to make her squirm. “I have you now, and you’re all I want.”

“Well, back to the actual topic at hand! If we have a girl, I’ll gladly call her Victoria. Both for the Queen and for your first wife.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course. It’s a lovely name. And Victoria Marston deserves to live on, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Mary. Your good heart knows no bounds.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Alright, then. James for a boy and Victoria for a girl. You don’t want to use your parents’ names?”

“I… don’t know what their names were. I always just called them mama and papa. Maybe they were Mary and Tommy too, who knows?”

“Well, Mama and Papa Taylor made two wonderful children. Strong, resilient, hardworking, and very, very brave. I especially like the daughter, she’s ever so beautiful.”

“Sounds like you have a bit of a thing for her,” Mary teased.

“I most certainly do,” Elliott teased back, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her close. “I think I might marry her, actually. Do you think she’ll say yes?”

“It’s not her you’ll have to ask.”

Mary picked Billy up off the floor, where he was still trying to eat his blocks, and sat him on her lap.

“What do you think, Billy? Should mama and papa get married?”

Elliott uncrossed his legs to lay down on the floor, propped up on his elbows, so that he was face-level with Billy.

“Oh, please say yes, Billy, I’ll treat her ever so well,” he pleaded. “I’ll show her that I love her every single day, and I’ll give you as many little brothers and sisters as you want. What do you say?”

“Bah nana!” Billy said confidently.

“…Did he just respond to my proposal with ‘banana’?”

Mary laughed. “I think he’s calling you bananas. But it sounds like a yes to me.”

“Oh, Billy, you’ve made me the happiest man in Australia,” Elliott grinned.

He leaned forward to give his son a peck on the forehead, and Billy laughed to feel Elliott’s moustache tickling his skin. He reached up and grabbed at Elliott’s face, curious and amused by the funny hair on his face.

“You like it too, hm? Yes, mama likes it, so I’ll be keeping it. Maybe one day you’ll grow a nice strong moustache like mine, hm?”

“Gabada!” Billy replied.

There was a knock on the door, and Elliott reluctantly pulled away from his son’s grip to answer it.

Dobkin looked over his shoulder, still flummoxed by Mary’s presence, but decided against questioning who this woman was and why she had suddenly appeared.

“Just got back from town, Mr Marston. The chaplain’s here, and I managed to pick up half a dozen men. I can get more from Perth.”

“Excellent. Get them settled in the men’s quarters, then put them to work. I want a count of all the outer pens, I wouldn’t put it past Quigley to murder my livestock as well as my men.”

“Yes, sir.” Dobkin hesitated, glancing again at Mary, who was standing up now with Billy in her arms. “Mr Marston, can I ask —”

“What? Oh, right. Introductions.” Elliott beckoned Mary over. “Mary, this is Mr Dobkin. He’s the best of my men, even before they were all slaughtered. He kept the place going while I was away. In fact, if I weren’t able to trust him, I’d have never gone to London.”

“Oh, in that case, I must thank you, Mr Dobkin!”

“Er - no problem?” Dobkin replied with confusion.

“Dobkin, this is Mary. She’s to be my wife. She’s to be treated with nothing but respect, so make sure those new men know it, alright? She has just as much authority as me. More, in fact, because I do what she says.”

“Elliott!” Mary laughed.

“Pleased to meet you, miss,” Dobkin said with a tip of his hat. “And who’s the little one?”

“This is our son, Billy,” Elliott said. “And the lad you met earlier, that’s Mary’s brother, Tommy.”

“Your —?”

“Our son, yes. I’ll tell you the whole story later, but I need those headcounts. And where’s the chaplain? He has a wedding to officiate.”

- - -

All that time Mary had spent imagining what getting married would be like, she’d never imagined this.

Her wedding to Turpin had been large, opulent, the pews of St Dunstan’s filled to the brim.

It had also been terrifying. Mary was miserable, she didn’t know a single one of the guests, and any affection she might have harboured for her groom had dissipated the night he’d threatened to hang her brother if she didn’t marry him.

But her wedding to Elliott was everything the first hadn’t been.

It was small, intimate, with only Tommy and Elliott’s trusted worker, Mr Dobkin, in attendance — and Billy, of course, in Tommy’s arms. Mary had married Turpin in a church and become a Lady — now, she was marrying Elliott in the middle of the desert, and she didn’t care that she was relinquishing her title as Lady Turpin. She’d rather be Mrs Marston any day.

Mary hardly heard what the chaplain was saying. She recognised the prayers and the blessings she’d heard at her first wedding, but she didn’t really listen. All she could do was look at Elliott, so handsome in the Australian sun, and when he recited his vow to her, she began to cry.

She just about managed to hold it together as she repeated the vow back to him.

There was no wedding ring, but neither of them cared for that. That could come another day. All that mattered was that the other was there.

More prayers, more blabbing from the chaplain. Mary began to get impatient. Then, finally, she heard the words she wanted to hear.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

“Finally,” Elliott growled. He wrapped his arms around Mary’s waist, pulled her in close, and kissed her fiercely.

Somewhere, Tommy and Dobkin were applauding, but Mary didn’t pay them any mind.

She was married! To Elliott! She was married to Elliott! She was Mrs Mary Marston, and nobody could change that.

Elliott eventually pulled away, and quickly scooped Mary up in his arms, causing her to squeal with surprise.

“Right, nobody disturb us for at least an hour. I need to spend some time alone with my wife.”

“Er - just a moment, Mr Marston,” the chaplain said, hesitant to interrupt Elliott’s enthusiasm. “The certificate first, please.”

“Oh, right, right. Quickly!”

Elliott set Mary back down to her feet and the chaplain unrolled the certificate onto the table on the porch.

“Right, then, here we are. Names… Elliott James Marston… Mary Turpin… ages?”

“Forty-three,” Elliott replied.

“Nineteen,” said Mary. Not that she was certain, but it was her best guess.

“Condition - both widowed. Rank or profession. Pastoralist, I suppose, Mr Marston?”

“Yes, fine.”

“Father’s name and profession?”

“James Marston. Merchant.”

The chaplain looked at Mary expectantly, and she hesitated.

“Oh, um… I don’t know.”

“That’s alright, we can leave it blank. Mr Marston, sign here — Mrs Marston, there. Then these two can sign as witnesses and we can leave you two to, uh… celebrate.”

Elliott had never signed anything so fast or with such certainty. Mary did her best attempt at a signature, though it looked childish next to Elliott’s, and Tommy’s was just a cross.

“Come on, Dobkin, hurry up,” Elliott snapped as Dobkin signed the last signature. “Right, is that it?”

“Yes, I’ll get this registered back in town and send it back to you,” the chaplain said, but Elliott hardly heard anything after “yes.” He swept Mary up in his arms again, grinning, and practically kicked the front door down.

“No interruptions!” he barked back at Dobkin. “And I want those headcounts!”

The door slammed shut behind him, and Mary laughed as he practically sprinted to the bedroom, kicked that door open too, and threw her quite unceremoniously onto the bed.

“Clothes off,” he commanded, already shrugging his waistcoat off, and Mary eagerly stood to undress. “I’ve waited too fucking long for this. You have no idea - no idea… you ruined whores for me, you know? I tried, but they were all disappointments. I’d rather my own hand than a cunt that’s not yours.”

“I… thought of you,” Mary admitted with a blush as she loosened her dress and let it fall to the floor to reveal her undergarments. “When I was with William, I’d… think of you.”

Elliott grinned with pride. “I bet you did. Thinking of my cock while taking his. The little one might as well be mine. Go on, let me see him.”

Mary pulled her vest over her head, revealing her swollen breasts and her slightly protruding stomach, and Elliott groaned. The sight of Mary - his wife - round with child… it touched something primal within him.

He knelt down and placed both hands on Mary’s belly, his lips ghosting her skin softly.

“Hello, James. Or Victoria. But hopefully James.”

Mary laughed.

“Another man may have planted his seed, but make no mistake, I am your father. And once you’re out, I’ll put another one in there, as many as your mama wants.”

“Two more,” Mary told him. “I’d like two more, if that’s alright with you.”

Elliott looked up at her with a grin. “Oh, I will very happily keep impregnating you. Let’s practice, shall we? Get these bloody things off.”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of her bloomers and pulled them down, leaving her fully nude in front of him.

“God, I missed this,” Elliott groaned. He guided Mary to sit on the edge of the bed, instructed her to lie on her back, and promptly buried his face between her legs.

“Elliott!” Mary gasped as his tongue began exploring her folds, hungrily lapping at her like a man starved.

It had been a long time since she’d felt his mouth down there. Turpin had certainly never seen the point, since it wasn’t for his pleasure. And Elliott had never eaten a whore’s pussy — he didn’t pay to give her pleasure, only to take his own. So he really was a man starved, not having tasted a cunt since he’d last brought Mary to orgasm with his tongue in Sussex a million years ago.

Not that he seemed out of practice. He easily recalled the way she liked his tongue to circle her clit, and when he slid his fingers inside her, he knew exactly where to go to find that inner sweet spot.

He showed no mercy to her, continuing his precise movements as she came, and only when she mumbled, “Stop… too much…” did he pull away, grinning victoriously with a face covered in her juices.

“I could stay buried in there all day,” he said as he wiped his face on the back of his hand. “I’d gladly die suffocating between your thighs.”

“Mmm, well, I think it’s time you put something else between my thighs, don’t you agree?”

Mary shuffled up the bed as if to prove her point, laying her head against the pillow as she spread her legs for him.

“Oh, someone’s grown bold,” Elliott purred. He gladly climbed on top of her, rubbing his cock between her legs to spread her slick along it. “All that time I spent trying to get you out of your shell, and all I had to do was marry you.”

“I spent over a year without you, El. I thought I’d never see you again. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Elliott leant over her, their torsos pressed together, though he tried not to put too much weight on her belly. He kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe, then muttered in her ear, “Tell me what you want, Mary. I’m yours to command.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, desperately trying to pull him close.

“Fuck me, Elliott.”

There was no way he could resist that.

He lined himself up with her entrance and pushed, and her cunt gladly let him in. It gave him all the wetness he needed to move without resistance, and her walls easily acquiesced to him, stretching around his cock as he moved deeper inside her.

Mary had never felt the pull of any drug, but she suspected that the first hit of an addict’s substance after a long time without it felt something like this. Like she’d been missing something, and finally she was whole again.

Pregnancy made her cunt more sensitive, she’d learnt this last time, and so she felt every inch of her stretching around him, every nerve on fire as his cock filled her up so perfectly. And when he began to thrust, Mary felt like she might just die of pleasure as his cock dragged along her walls and pushed against that sweet spot inside her.

“More, Elliott, please,” Mary begged, desperate with frustration at his slow pace. “I can take it. I won’t break, I promise.”

He chuckled, and looked at her with his amber eyes darkened with lust.

“Anything you wish, my love.”

Mary clung to Elliott as he fucked her harder, his hips pummelling into hers as if trying to make up for lost time. The bed began to creak — Elliott had had this bed for a long time, and he’d never known it to creak. He’d taken plenty of whores here, his first wife too, and none of them had ever made the bed creak. Maybe it was getting old. Or maybe he just hadn’t ever desired someone as much as he did Mary.

The creaking of the bed was matched only by their moans. Mary was sure she’d never heard a sound so beautiful, so arousing, as the noises Elliott was making right now.

“Elliott…” Mary panted between moans. “Elliott, I love you.”

He grinned, full of pride. “Of course you do. I love you too, Mary. I love you so - fucking - much. Fuck! Mary… Mary, I’m afraid I won’t - ah! - last long.”

“Fill me up, El,” she begged. “Please, El, please, I wanna feel it inside me…”

“Oh, I’ll fill you up. Gonna fucking - mhm - fill you up with my cum. ‘Til you’re leaking. You want that, huh? You wanna be full of my cum?”

“Yes, yes, please, Elliott, I need it, need to be full of you…”

“Say it,” he commanded, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Say you want my cum, Mary.”

“I want your cum, Elliott, please, I need it, need your cum…”

He exploded with a roar of pleasure, his cries loud enough to be heard back in Perth, and Mary felt his cock pulsing inside her as, just as he promised, he filled her cunt up with his seed.

He’d barely finished when he was kissing her again, his tongue demanding entrance, as if he needed to follow his cock fucking her cunt with his tongue fucking her mouth.

His cock was softening inside her, but it was only a temporary reprieve. Elliott knew he had more in him. Oh, he’d fill her up alright. Again and again until his balls were expended and he had nothing more to give.

They finally parted for breath, and Elliott propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at her with a possessive pride.

“I hope you don’t think that was all I have for you,” he purred. “You wanted my cum, you’re gonna get it.”

Before Mary could answer, Elliott pulled out of her and shuffled down the bed to position his head between her legs again. He used his fingers to push apart her lips, gazing with pride at the way his seed was leaking out of her.

“This is what this cunt was made for. Being stuffed full of cum. Fuck, you take it so well, Mary. Better keep it all inside, though, hm?”

He used his fingers to scoop up the cum that had leaked out and pushed it back inside.

“Gotta keep it all in there,” Elliott said, as if he needed a reason to push his fingers up inside her. “Mmm, such an obedient cunt… it deserves a reward, no?”

He pressed his lips against her clit, which was still swollen and sensitive, and Mary moaned his name as he licked her again, his fingers fucking her cunt as fiercely as his cock had.

He could feel it twitching to life again against the mattress, but Elliott ignored it. He was enjoying this, savouring every moment of his wife’s pussy against his face. Besides, the way she was gripping his head now, her fingers tugging on his hair, he couldn’t have moved away even if he wanted to.

To his surprise, just when he thought she was about to reach her peak again, Mary pulled his head back, and he looked up at her.

“Lie on your back,” she said.

She didn’t need to tell him twice. Elliott moved over to lie on the other side of the bed, his cock fully awake again now, and Mary took full advantage of it. She swung her leg over his waist, took his cock in her hand, and sank onto it with ease.

“Oh, Mary,” Elliott groaned. The short time they’d had together, she’d never done this. Never taken control — never owned her pleasure. She was too shy, too eager to please. She had no idea how to do anything for herself, only for others.

And she rode like an expert. She’d definitely had practice — it seemed Turpin had been good for something, at least.

Lord, she was beautiful like this. Her belly round with child, her tits swollen with milk. She was already pregnant, she had no need to take his seed. No, she was taking it because she wanted it. She was riding him for the pleasure of it, for the intimacy, for the sheer decadence of bringing herself to orgasm. And when that orgasm began to build, Elliott grabbed hold of her hips and took over thrusting, letting her lose control of her body as she came around his cock, her tight walls squeezing him. He had no choice but to follow suit, another round of seed exploding inside her as they both cried out, Mary’s cunt milking his cock for all he had left.

She collapsed, exhausted, on top of him, and Elliott gently rolled her to her side, ever wary of her belly.

They laid there together in silence for a little while, Mary comfortably snuggled up in Elliott’s arms, as they both caught their breath.

“When you said you wanted to learn to ride, I thought you meant a horse,” Elliott murmured eventually. “But I think I like this better.”

Mary giggled and looked up at him. “Well, I definitely didn’t sail halfway around the world to ride a horse. There are plenty of them in England.”

“Plenty of men, too. And I’m sure they’d happily let you ride them.”

“Mmm, but none of them are you.”

Elliott smiled at her.

“I’m so proud of you, Mary. I know how difficult it is for you to do anything for yourself. And yet, here you are, following your heart half a world away.”

Mary shook her head. “No, I - I didn’t do it for me. I did it for Tommy, so he could have a better life, away from the class system that keeps him from achieving so much. I did it for Billy, so he could know his real father, and for the baby, so he can live without ever having known the struggles Tommy and I faced.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself, Mary. Not to me, never to me. Yes, I swear it, your sons - our sons - they will have a better life here. But if it weren’t for them - if you were all alone, with no home and no family in England, just your late husband’s inheritance - would you not have come anyway?”

“I - I guess,” Mary admitted. “If there was truly no reason to stay in England, and I knew you were out here… I suppose, yes, I would have come to find you.”

“Then I am truly honoured to be the first thing you ever chose for yourself.”

Mary blushed. Elliott tucked her hair behind her ear, and kissed her on the forehead, before letting her settle back against his chest.

“I think you might be my soulmate,” she whispered.

Elliott thought back to the day they met, the way she instantly felt so familiar to him, so comfortable. Like home was within her… as if the homesickness he thought he felt for Australia had been for her all along.

He remembered the day he’d decided to visit England. Nothing in particular had triggered it. It was something he’d wanted to do, but the timing had never felt right — until it did. As if fate itself had whispered in his ear: She’s waiting for you. Go and get her.

Mary giggled at something, interrupting Elliott’s train of thought.

“You know, we only met because you were pickpocketed,” she said, looking up at him with amusement. “If you hadn’t been in the right place, at the right time, you may never have walked into the shop. Isn’t it lucky you were?”

“I don’t think it was luck, Mary… I believe it was fate.”

“Do you think we find each other in every life?”

Elliott cupped her face with his hand and looked deep into her eyes, as if trying to communicate with her very soul.

“Mary Taylor-Turpin-Marston —”

She giggled at the silly name.

“— with God as my witness, I promise you this. Whatever happens in the next life… I’ll find you. I will always find you.”

Mary grinned.

“Not if I find you first.”

[nightcityace]

(Lets all just pretend its not nearly a week after Valentine's day already) I have been trying to figure out how to do this set for AGES now and I'm so happy with how it turned out!

There is also a little fic to go with it under the cut! Turns out my own struggles with trying to get everything just right was good inspiration :P

“This was supposed to be nice…” Vik sighed heavily as soon the waiter was out of earshot. It was actually supposed to be perfect, but the judgy looks from the staff and clearly corporate patrons had thrown that out the window almost as soon as they had walked in. He felt his heart flutter as Sunny chuckled softly.

“It is nice.” They grinned at him and poked at the marble sized morsel of food, it was probably food, with their fork. “Okay, maybe the food isn't, but I definitely like the company.” 

He found it impossible not to smile back at them, “I suppose you have a point there.”

It had taken ages to get a table here and he had called in more than a few favors to make sure it was a good one. Vik wiped his palms against his pants for what felt like the hundredth time. He had to stop doing that, it would ruin them. There was no reason to be nervous. Everything had been planned out. He knew what he wanted and he was sure he knew what they'd say. What he hoped they’d say. Everything leading up tonight had felt so easy, but as he looked down at their comically empty overpriced plates it just felt wrong. It wasn't them. Sunny loved it when he showed them the little dives around Watson and they were both more than happy to spend an evening camped on the couch with some bad take-out, but he had wanted tonight to be something special. 

“Hey…” Vik almost jumped as Sunny gently laid their hand over top of his on his knee, their face was soft, but concerned. “Wanna just get out of here? Go get a burger or something?”

He couldn't help but laugh, “It's like you were reading my mind. That sounds perfect.” A look of relief crossed Sunny’s face and was followed immediately by a mischievous smile he knew all too well.

“Good. I'm taking this,” they grabbed the bottle of wine from the table and then chewed their bottom lip thoughtfully, “also these. Which means we should probably run.” They winked as they scooped up the wine glasses from the table as well, pouring the remnants from them into the fake floral centerpiece. Vik laughed as they ignored the waiter’s shout as they quickly made their way to the door. 

- -

Half an hour later they were still breathlessly laughing on an old blanket laid out on the roof above the clinic. Sunny leaned over to give him a soft kiss as they passed him another glass of their pilfered wine. “There that's better, not so tense.” 

Vik snorted, “I think the food might be better too.”

“Oh definitely, the potatoes may be fake, but the deep fryer’s still real.”

It was ridiculous, a stolen bottle of high class wine paired with a budget burger and fries from Tom’s Diner while sitting on a dirty rooftop in formalwear. Completely ridiculous and actually perfect in a way some overpriced restaurant would never be. He moved closer to Sunny and smiled when they immediately leaned into him with a contented sigh, resting their head on his shoulder. Ridiculous and perfect. It suited them, it was them. He felt his stomach twist as he carefully reached for his pocket. “Sunny… I uh…” god he hadn't been this nervous in his boxing days, not even when he was heading toward a championship match. His mouth felt so dry, he couldn't get the words out.

Sunny straightened where they sat and turned to look at him with concern, only to freeze as they saw the small round object he held.  “...Vik?” their voice was barely a whisper as they looked from him to the ring with wet eyes. “Oh my god…” 

“I, uh, saw this going differently, was gonna be a whole thing. Obviously it didn't go exactly as planned. I hoped it would feel romantic, y’know?” He could tell he was rambling and took a shaky breath, “But it didn't feel like us, and I happen to like us. A lot actually and I'm hoping you might want to keep doing this for, oh I don't know, forever?” He was cut off as Sunny choked out a laugh and pressed their lips together suddenly. He returned the kiss with a soft laugh of his own. “That a yes?”

Sunny pulled back just far enough for Vik to see them roll their eyes and then wiped away a few stray tears as they grinned “Obviously that's a yes.” 

[cyanbugremix]

Cyanbug's Redacted Audio Headcanons

(Some of these I might use/did use in fics, but others are just there)

1. Huxley had a bunny growing up. It was potty-trained and very curious about all the flowers his moms' and him would bring into the house. They had to keep the lilies locked away in a different room, to make sure the bunny didn't eat any of them.

2. Babe got a stick and poke tattoo of an outline of a wolf on the lower part of their thigh, as a teen. It wasn't the best, and it's pretty much faded now, but they remember how upset their mom was about it when she found out. They forgot that they couldn't wear shorts or else she'd see.

3. Babe also used to go explore abandoned buildings when they were younger. They mostly went to this one building that used to be an old gristmill, but stopped going there when the roof collapsed after a bad storm. They did it to escape to a place where it was quiet, but sometimes they'd bring a friend along to go exploring. They have a bunch of printed photos from exploring.

4. Asher likes to joke with Darlin' that they should serenade Sam by playing "Your Man" by Josh Turner. (baby lock them doors and turn the lights down low-)

5. Smartass was in love with horses as a kid, and would ask for a horse/pony every birthday growing up (they never got one). But they used to collect horse figurines, and still have them in a box somewhere.

6. Asset's favorite board game as a kid was "Chutes and Ladders".

7. For a year or two, David was a social toddler, but at the end of preschool he started to get really shy (nobody really knew why). The only time he seemed to open up was when Asher was around, but was never as social as he once was.

8. Christian likes to go zip-lining and he and Amanda once went on a date to one of those zip-lining and ropes courses.

9. Amanda had braces as a kid, and in her early teens, but she got them off before she headed into high school. She preferred getting neon pink rubber bands.

10. Sam got the chicken pox as a kid (his Grandma mostly took care of him for that week or so when he was sick), and one of the first good things he realized after he got turned into a vampire was that at least he wouldn't have to worry about shingles (or vaccines in general) anymore.

11. Hush doesn't really care for cheese, but whenever Doc gets something that has gooey cheese, they'll let him do the first cheese pull since he likes seeing how far he can get it to stretch. So far he's managed 16 inches with cheesy bread sticks.

12. Aaron likes Neo-Expressionism art.

13. DAVID AND ANGEL GET A CAT. They originally were going to get one after their honeymoon, but then that didn't happen because life got busy again. David thought getting them a cat might be a good [insert holiday] gift, and the two of them could go pick out one at the humane society. But then one day David found a kitten on the street as he was walking by with Milo. The kitten just waddled right up to the two of them and actually seemed to like David. So he takes it home, especially because if Milo were to take it, Aggro would have a problem sharing his people (someone made a headcanon of that awhile ago and I AGREE. Aggro doesn't like to share. He wants to be the one and only best boy. I'll have to find it later. Shout out to whoever thought of it.) And voila. They have a cute little kitten now and are cat parents :D (I have a draft of this storyline, i just haven't finished it)

14. Treasure is really into bats and has been since they were a kid. Their family would always buy them bat stuff as a kid and into adulthood, so they have a lot bat themed things. They also have an old 3rd-grade informative essay, explaining different types of bats, hidden away in a folder. They wanted to be a zookeeper as a kid, specifically so they could take care of the fruit bat exhibit. Porter thought it was ironically funny when he first was invited to their home and the amount of things related to bats (and in correlation, vampires) that they owned.

15. Lovely plays the Sims A LOT (they like to build houses or other buildings the most).

[juliet-017]

Retribution - M.R.

Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Minors dni!

Warnings: knifeplay & bloodplay, degration, choking/breathplay, orgasm denial/edging, dubcon?

Synopsis: Everyone experiences stress differently, in turn they each handle it differently. In the case of Mattheo's stress being yours and yours being his, there's really only one way to settle you both. Right?

a/n: I feel like I asked other ppl so much for their opinions on this fic bc I did NOT want to do Mattheo dirty 😭 this fic feels sm weaker than my first one so hopefully y'all enjoy! Thank you for reading

Wc: ~1.5k

End-of-term exams were always stressful for every student, causing different students to snap and argue. Mattheo was no different. Your beloved boyfriend suddenly goes cold again, neglecting practically everything in favor of studying.

You knew you did this purposefully, wearing a skirt a year or so old. Mattheo’s been on edge lately, and for once, the sex was subpar. As usual when you'd press he wouldn't want to talk about it, so you decided to take a new approach.

You barely made it out of your dorm before you felt a rough hand grab your wrist, yanking you towards the boys' dormitories. Recognizing the cologne you relaxed, allowing yourself to be practically manhandled. The dorm door swung open and shut roughly.

“Fucking slut,” Mattheo growled, pinning you against the wall to your dorm, a vice-like grin on your neck. “thought it was cute to wear such a short skirt, did you? How old is this, huh?” He taunts, tugging at the short fabric that barely covers your ass.

“This desperate for attention, what do I not fuck you enough?” He continues, pinning you under his gaze while reaching into his pocket, pulling out a pocket knife and flicking it open. You feel fear quickly building inside you, alongside heat coiling in your lower stomach.

He flicks it out, holding it under your chin, the tip pricking your skin and already eliciting a whine from you.

“Pathetic little thing,” He tuts, shaking his head and drawing it away just enough to give you some space. “Strip.” He instructs, his eyes traveling over you with a small tilt of his head whilst flipping the knife around in his hands.

You hesitate, swallowing thickly and reaching up. Slowly you undo your tie, then your blouse, then your skirt and shoes. You never got used to his stare when he's focused on you, solely you. Flushing, standing in just your bra and panties.

“On the bed,” He drawls, stepping back just enough to let you slip by, walking and sitting yourself on the edge of it. He stands in front of you trailing the blunt end of the blade over your shoulders and collarbones, making you fight to keep eye contact and not shiver.

You feel a wet spot form between your thighs, trying to not squirm too much as the blade turns over to its sharper side. Traveling down your sternum and stopping at your bra, picking at it slightly, silently prompting you.

Complying, you slowly reach back, enclosing the bra before sliding the straps off. Roughly, Mattheo grabs it, tossing it off somewhere and then laying you back onto the bed.

“Look at you.. so obedient all of a sudden.” He hums, lightly tracing the knife over your thighs causing you to flinch and shiver. “Don't know if I should call you a good girl or a filthy fucking whore.” He continues, only making the wet spot on your panties grow. The blade finds its way to the waistband of them, slicing one half open, and causing you to gasp.

“Mattheo! Those were-!” You start, quickly shutting up when the blade finds its way to your throat again, the gentle pressure enough to shut you up despite your trust in him.

“You knew damn well what to expect when you wore that skirt, princess. Lucky I didn't just have you take your panties off and go about your day like that.” He growls, trialing the knife down your body again and stopping on your stomach. He holds the tip of it adjacent to your belly button, taunting, raising a brow as if to say what he could do before continuing back to your panties and cutting the other side now. He adjusts them so he can see you on full display, his cock now straining against his trousers.

This time he does break skin, slicing the skin on your upper thigh. You whine in pain, trying to not watch…

But despite yourself, you can't pull your gaze away. Watching him carve lightly into your skin, writhing slightly as he held you down. Once he finished he spotted your gaze, holding the blade up to your lips as if prompting you to clean it. You hesitate, moving to argue before divulging, tasting your metallic blood on your tongue.

Mattheo did hesitate before closing the pocket knife back up and setting it on his nightstand, kissing the marking he left, tasting the blood himself. You half wondered if this was.. it. That he'd give in and fuck you right here after paying some attention to your wound, licking it, telling you how sweet you were before eating you out and thrusting into you so hard you couldn't walk for days.

But it was different today, still sweet words of how sweet you were, words of how he wanted to mark you all up, taste your blood for ages. Then he pulled away.

“Middle of the bed, all fours.” He instructed smoothly, you complied, facing your ass towards him and ignoring the sting of the wound. Grabbing the back of your neck he forced you to arch your back, grinding his clothed cock against your glistening pussy. “Such a good slut f’me.” He growls, reluctantly taking his hands off you.

You hear him undoing his belt, but not his trousers, you don't even have time to think before the leather collided with your ass, causing you to yelp.

He lashes you a few mores times, making you red and raw. He lightly runs his hand over it, making you squirm away before he grabs your hips to keep you in place. “Tsk tsk, sweetheart. You're the one that wanted this, remember?” He hums quietly, his voice a false honey.

The next few lashes of the belt catch you off guard, hard and quick, tears forming in your eyes from the pain. He soothes it with his hand again, going between groping and and just running his hand over the red. “Practically begged for it.” He continues, going between belting you and whisper to you in that sweet voice. “Didn’t you?” He hums, the lashes getting a bit sharper.

“Y-yes,” You whimper out, mind melting at the changes in sensation, the harsh words with their praising tone, your walls already clenching in anticipation as you whine and feel your hips involuntarily buck.

Another harsh landing of the belt makes you yelp, wanting to bury your face into a pillow. “Look at you, so desperate to have me put my cock in you. Is that all you are? A little cocksleeve?” He taunts, taking to purely massaging you for the meantime. You can only muster a groan which results in his short nails digging into you. “Answer me,”

“Mhmm, just your cocksleeve,” You manage to drawl out, trying to focus on anything but the sting. You feel the belt loop around your neck, a lose hold.

“Well why let such a perfectly good one go to waste, eh?” Mattheo taunts, ridding himself of his own clothes, trying the pace himself to drawl out your own torture but only finding it harder on himself.

Without any preparation he thrusts into you, pulling the belt tight to cut off your air flow and cutting off your scream caused by a mix of pain and pleasure. Setting a ruthless pace, Mattheo thrusts in and out of you, holding no reguard for your still oozing wound.

The heat in your abdomen that had been growing painfully slow skyrockets, making you yearn to touch yourself, but having just enough it's to not. The hold the belt has on you loosens entirely, Mattheo taking to playing with your tits instead.

“Such a good fuckdoll, all mine.” He grunts, feeling you clench and whine in desperation, but ignoring you. “Gonna make me-” He doesn't even finish his words before painting your walls white, continuing to fuck you through his high, grabbing at whatever he can.

Eventually once you start squirming too much in desperation he tightens the belt hanging limply around your neck. “Would you rather be getting spanked or cut up? No, that's what I thought.” He growls harshly.

You don't even know how many times he's came before even paying any attention to your needy clit, how any of your own orgasms were ruined because of his neglect. But finally, he seems to agree that you deserve it, his hips rutting as he tires himself out, slowly.

Yourself a moaning and drilling mess, barely able to think coherently. You feel another orgasm quickly approaching, moaning and whining. “Getting close?” Mattheo asks, watching the nod of your head before picking up his pace. “Don't cum until I tell you to,” He grunts, watching you nod, feeling you struggling to hold back. Right when you're on the brink, about to fall over, sensing him close to letting you cum he pulls out, covering your ass and lower back, leaving you to sob from yet another ruined orgasm, hips trying to chase the lost pleasure as you shine into his bed sheets again. “See, now if you were a good girl you would've been able to cum.” He chastises, hands running up and down the sides of your body. “Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” He asks, lifting you up in favor of going and running you a bath.

[bloodyrib]

it’s me, the anonymous guy who talked about Art’s abilities! back again with another rant about the series to flood your inbox.

regarding the Art’s victims fighting back post, it’s just so INTERESTING how this man’s biggest fear is consequences. and the power of love (something something Sienna’s undying determination to protect her family like Johnathan and Gabby literally allowing her to kick his ass), but mainly consequences. at the end of the day he really is a coward and i think it adds SO MUCH to his character!

so, Art’s whole thing is going after easy targets; women, children, solitary targets, teenagers and young adults, etc. in every film he stalks and/or kills a woman (Mia, Tara, Dawn, Allie, Brooke, Sienna temporarily), and he never goes after people in groups because it actually gives them a fighting chance, and if DOES, they’re the aforementioned easy targets;

Mia and Cole are young adults who were caught-off guard in a very vulnerable moment, he shot Smoky and Eddie in the bar because he knew they’d actually be able to fight him (and the Santa guy was an old man who wasn’t expecting anything), and the family in T3 consisted of two children and two adults, one adult - the father - who was already slaughtered in his sleep (being caught off-guard), and the kid in the room was killed before he could scream and alert his family which would give them a chance to get ready to fight or escape).

and even then, sometimes his victims fight back. and whenever they do? Art gets PISSED. because he fears consequences. and so he takes the easiest way out he can think of.

when Tara beat the shit out of him in T1, he shot her. when the cops arrived in T1, he shot himself to avoid incarceration and therefore facing his consequences. when Ricky (the guy at the Halloween shop) threatened to kick his ass (in my opinion he should’ve just done it without warning him, if you mean something do it, but anyways) Art got upset, stopped playing and attacked him. when Brooke kicked him in the face he sat there with an upset look and adjusted his hat before continuing to follow her — and even further on, when Brooke grabbed something wooden and told Art to back off (he’s getting flashbacks to Tara, poor thing) he straight up used a bottle of acid instead of just fighting a teenage girl who presumably has no combat experience. again, the easy way out. and this isn’t the last of it! when Sienna revived and started beating his ass he was visibly shocked and started running away, and when Johnathan held him at gunpoint he stopped choking Sienna and turned around like “hey, hey, hey buddy, let’s talk this out.” i assume the only reason he stopped running and let Sienna cut his head off was because at that point he respected her enough to stop running (and either way Sienna was gonna get his ass somehow, she was DETERMINED).

we see this even MORE in t3, and although it may not be much i adore the consistent characterization. when the guys at the bar were pissed because Art pissed, he shot Smokey and Eddie before taking his time to actually kill the most defenseless one there — an old man (who was kind to him, but that’s irrelevant right now) because he knew Smokey and Eddie may actually have a chance at beating him — or at the very least, making things a LOT more inconvenient, and there’s nothing people hate more than inconvenience. again, he set up bombs in the mall and THEN walked off so they couldn’t get him (i don’t know how he made them, but we love a creative queen ❤️) and of course everyone would be too busy recovering from the fact a bomb just went off to call 911 before he could get away or they could figure out it was him. and again, at the end of the film, he gets really cocky — in his eyes, Sienna has literally no way of fighting back (and tbh, she didn’t, but then some loony toons level antics happened and she got her sword) and so he took his time taunting her (the slapping on the back of the head was personal, not to mention the amount of effort he and Vicky must’ve gone through the use her uncle’s decapitated head as a Christmas tree topper & disemboweling him, not to mention writing insults in blood for salt in the wound). BUT when Sienna DID actually have a chance and killed Vicky, she had him pinned, and the only reason he got away was because Sienna went to check on Gabbie. and once she did, he was GONE. out the window, onto a bus stop, getting out of there as soon as possible.

also it’s a little funny how Art looks traumatized on the bus 💀 like he was genuinely scared by the concept of facing the consequences of his actions — of actually dying, without anyone able to revive him now that his bestie was dead (R.I.P Vicky you would’ve loved Ayesha Erotica) and the Little Pale Girl was presumably gone. it was terrifying, realizing that he could actually die, that this game could be over and he wouldn’t get to keep messing around and killing people and having fun (which to him, is being an asshole and a murderer and getting away with it). he had to take a moment to think about it and reflect like “well, that was a close one. nearly actually DIED there. whose gonna revive me now? my bestie is dead.” before immediately going back to his clownery and honking his horn.

this is a jumbled rant, but I have SO much to say about this guy and this series as a whole, so thank you for letting me flood your inbox about my newest hyper fixation, I really appreciate having a place to talk about this series ❤️ Terrifier definitely has its flaws, but I am so enamored with this series and have so much to say about it, so huge thanks for letting me rant and talk about it here. I’m really excited for Terrifier 4, even if it’ll be the (presumable) end, and I can’t wait to see what happens next, i’m really hoping it does take place in hell 🙏🏾 have a good week!

(p.s. I know my wording when referring to Art is a little harsh and if I am being honest he is an asshole, but I genuinely do love his character and DHT so much, especially the latter - I just naturally use more negative wording. just wanted you to know that I’m not trying to yuck your yums or anything!)

hey nice to see you again haha!

he really is such a coward lol and when i first saw him pull out the gun to shoot tara i felt it was unfair because she had him and it was actually was unfair!

that's so true i thought he shot eddie and smokey because they were annoying to him but yes it's because they would be able to take him down. right and art left jennifer by herself because he could definitely win in that fight.

it's hilarious he gets so mad when his victims fight back 😂lmao facts ricky should've just gone for it lol! for the part where Jonathan held a gun to him, i think it's a mix of surprise but also kinda playing along in a way if that makes sense? like with the cat lady i think it was half him not actually ever getting love in his life so he liked her touch but also half playing along to bring her closer so he could get her. art looked genuinely surprised to me when he turned around to look at Jonathan before putting his hands up but i think he knew that he could just come back (maybe? or was he surprised again in t3?) after being shot so he was being extra with the blinking lmao. yeah his face too like you can see him silently chuckling and giving that look to sienna like he respected her and then offered his neck. he never shows mercy to anyone so he didn't expect it from her either.

facts he needed to get rid of smokey and eddie and yess he's so creative fr 🥰that bomb was perfect bc there are way too many people there for him to take out one by one so that's the best way and ofc he has to cause mayhem lol. oh yes doing all of that with the slapping and decorating the tree with uncle greg and waiting until the end to show gabby 😭yep he didn't stick around to get her when she was distracted getting gabby. i mean he wanted to get sienna into the hell portal in t2 and that didn't work and he could've easily pushed her into the portal in t3 or done something else to get her in there but i guess not 😂 but idk if it would've played out like it did in t2 and sienna would just come back out again. well actually she can be killed by anything except her sword if i remember correctly so yeah he could've done more than just running lol

yeah scared and exhausted too bro looked so tired and done i felt a little bad 😭 lmao she would've i can see her listening to literal legend and hyping herself up in the mirror 😍yess i wonder who's gonna be his partner in crime now/who the entity is gonna possess in t4 it could be jonathan if he's there in hell or gabby like poor sienna if either of that happened 💀or sienna gets possessed herself oh man that would be awful she'd never be able to escape art 😭

ikr there's so much to talk about and of course! i enjoy hearing anything and everything terrifier related :) no problem dude fr! same i'm soo excited for t4 can it come out already?? 😩😩 and it would be so epic if it took place in hell and i can see that happening it makes absolute sense! unless we get surprised and it takes place during idek labor day or whatever which would be strange💀 but i haven't been disappointed yet 🤞you're totally fine art is definitely a jerk and asshole but he's so cute so it's ok <3

have a good week too!!

[kjsasha]

Irrevocable - Kim Mingyu

(Chapter 1)

Pairing : Kim Mingyu X Female Reader

Genre : Best friend's brother, kind of like enemies to lovers, smut, angst, fluff.

Summary : Park Y/N is always aware of her actions and has her thoughts organised, atleast that's what she thought until she came across Kim Mingyu again years later. This guy not only rearranged her guts but also her entire being. But will the rearrangement lead her towards good or bad? Whatever it might be, one thing that she knows for sure is that - there's no going back. It's irrevocable.

Warnings : None for this chapter except for some strong words maybe.

Author's note : It's a Kim Mingyu fanfiction featuring other idols. This story is entirely fictional and is meant for entertainment purposes only. I do not own any rights over the artists mentioned in this story but I do own the story itself. If any similarities are found, it's purely coincidental and it'll contain mature themes. All rights are reserved. Thank you.

NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Next

Y/N Pov :

(Alarm clock ringing)

"Y/Nnnnnnn!", my mom screamed on top of her lungs while making breakfast in the kitchen downstairs at 7:00 in the morning.

BANG BANG BANG!

My 17 years old brother, Park Soobin, gently KNOCKED (that's what he claims) on my bedroom door to wake me up for college.

What a peaceful way to wake up early in the morning! (Can you see me gritting my teeth?)

I woke up, freshened up, got ready and went downstairs.

"Finish your food fast and go, you're running late. What am I supposed to do with you? How can I die in peace knowing I'm leaving YOU behind?", my mom sighed with her hand on her forehead. Just the thought of her not being around me pains my heart but right now, the emphasis on the "you" has my attention.

"First-you're not going anywhere mom and second-what do you mean by leaving "YOU" behind?", I arched my brow.

"She means that you're irresponsible", my brother flashed an evil grin and I was about to smash his head when mom said something which made me run into her arms like a five years old.

"I mean precious. You are precious and I don't want anything to hurt you when I'm not here".

We hugged each other while my mom cried and I had to control the tears brimming in my eyes. Ever since my dad couldn't make it out of the ICU last year, my mom became really sensitive and is very uncertain about her life. She isn't wrong though, life actually is uncertain.

"I knew you found me under the bridge", my brother grumbled and we pulled him into our hug.

"That's not true", I pat his back."We found you near the garbage".

"You're so mean", Soobin narrowed his eyes making us laugh.

"You are my precious little boy, Soobin-ah", mom babied her 6ft tall son.

"Okay, it's time to go big guy", I said and we both left for our respective academies.

Honestly, I miss dad a lot, we all do and right now all I want is for the rest of my family to be with me till the end coz I can't afford to lose anymore.

I reached my college and was about to walk towards my locker when Jisoo jumped on me out of nowhere. "Good morning", she greeted me with her brightest smile and I smiled back. Jisoo's beautiful inside-out and I'm glad I have her.

"Who are you and what did you do to my Y/N?", she took a step back and asked me with a frown.

Y/N : "What do you mean?"

Jisoo : "Park Y/N needs atleast two classes in the morning before she starts smiling back at people. But", she paused and checked me out and then continued "specs, clothes that can fit the two of us at once...hmm that's definitely my bestfriend", she hugged me tight while I rolled my eyes. Soon Jeonghan, my other friend joined us. He is one hell of a fine looking man. Not only females but he even has straight males feel some type of way. He and Jisoo are the two closest people of mine, you could say we are bestfriends.

We were at our lockers and Jisoo couldn't stop telling us how happy she was since her older brother was coming back from abroad after completing his studies.

Well, I'm happy for her but that guy is a bad news for me which Jisoo isn't aware of but Jeonghan knows it well and his head snapped towards me the moment his name was mentioned. Jisoo, Jeonghan and I are childhood friends and ever since then, her brother has been after my sanity. I have been at peace after he left but now that the devil's gonna be back in town, things are about to get heated.

"When's he gonna be back?", Jeonghan asked Jisoo in between our lecture.

Jisoo : "Who?"

Jeonghan : "Nightmare"

I coughed and he realised it right away and rephrased it, "Mingyu hyung".

Jisoo : "The day after tomorrow"

The three of us share everything among us and try to be there in each other's good and bad times but there's one thing which is limited to just me and Jeonghan and that's only because we think it may hurt Jisoo since it's against her brother whom she loves very much.

She doesn't know that we two have an Anti-Mingyu club and thus she doesn't know that I named her brother 'nightmare' (which he is). Though Jeonghan doesn't really have an issue with Mingyu but since I don't like him, Jeonghan took it as his personal issue because he loves me a lot and anyone who upsets me, upsets him. Well, that's what he said.

Two days rolled by and the devil was back in Seoul. Jisoo's mother invited my family and Jeonghan for dinner so that her son could meet us all. My mom's friends with Mrs. Kim and she really adores the Kim siblings and also her other friends are gonna be there so she's thrilled to go.

My mom has four really close friends and one of them is Jisoo's mom. They've all been together for a long time now and all of their kids as in us kind of grew up together. I want Jeonghan, Jisoo and me to have a friendship like theirs.

It was evening and my mom made sure I wore something nice for dinner at aunty's place. I wore a knee length purple dress and put on some lipstick.

I texted Jeonghan to drop by at my place so that we could go together. My mom adores him too and so he's always welcomed in my family.

We reached Jisoo's house and Mr. and Mrs. Kim welcomed us inside. Unlike their son, they are really nice people. "Look at my beautiful girl!", Mrs. Kim hugged me. She always compliments me even if I wear worn out clothes and house slippers with tangled hair and chappy lips and it does boost my self esteem.

We exchanged greetings with my mom's other friends. Mr. Kim called out for his children and soon Jisoo came running down the stairs. She seemed so bright, like a ray of light. But if there's light, there's darkness. She was followed by the dark and soon, it engulfed her light. I know I'm sounding like a dramatic writer but things are about to get real dramatic. (Playing an intense bgm).

There stood an over 6 ft tall, muscular with broad shoulders, handsome and ho...forget I ever thought that. So where were we? Oh yes, so there stood the nightmare, smiling wide with his pointy canines.

He came and greeted us and I wanted to avoid talking to him which wasn't possible since we were literally there to meet him.

"Hello, Y/N. How're you? It's been a long time", he said to me sounding harmless and so I talked to him politely. That's when he had to show his true form. He looked me up and down briefly for once and then smirked.

"Hyung, I missed you", Soobin exclaimed as he hugged him.

Mingyu : "Hey, you've grown so much. And I missed you too".

Soobin came and stood beside me and I whispered to him, "Are you my brother or his?".

Soobin supressed his laughter and just so you know, this little gremlin knows about my very loving bond with Mingyu.

Look, I don't wanna have disputes or tiffs with Mingyu but he has always been very much willing to get on my nerves. We went to the same school where he was our senior. He had his fair share of fan girls and there were individuals ready to warm his bed. He's good in sports and had good grades which made him a star student back in the days. But the problem was that he knew he's perfect and out of all the people, he had to show that off to me. Even though I am younger than him, he always had to make me feel less capable than him. He'd always teased me whenever he got the chance which made him a very unlikable part of my childhood.

I believe that people change and he's been away for some years so if he has reformed himself and is ready to be well behaved, I am ready to be in good terms with him. Well, he definitely has changed physically in every aspect towards good but other than that, I have a feeling he changed into a bigger nightmare than he already was.

That look he gave me a while ago wasn't very sanitary.

Mrs. Kim suggested us, as in Mingyu, Jeonghan, Soobin, Jisoo, Somi (one of my mom's friends' daughter) and me to go upstairs and have fun as we wouldn't enjoy sitting among the adults. Who would tell her sitting with them is much more fun than having to spend time with her son.

I couldn't make any excuse as the others agreed to go and soon we were all in Jisoo's bedroom.

Soobin : "How about we play something?"

Somi : "Let's play board games"

We agreed on playing monopoly and now we were all on the floor in a circle. Somehow I ended up sitting between Jeonghan and Mingyu. I was almost on Jeonghan's lap as I was pushing myself towards him trying not to make any sort of contact with Mingyu.

We were very much into the game when I felt that my cash was weirdly decreasing every few minutes. Soon I realised that Mingyu was stealing them. I looked at him and clenched my fists,"Thief, give my money back".

"What?", he asked innocently.

Y/N : "I saw you taking them, now give it back"

Mingyu : "Take it"

He stood up when I reached out to take it back. I stood up too but then he jumped on the bed making me do the same.

Jeonghan : "Hey, calm down you two"

"Mr. Kim Mingyu, give it back".

"Come and take it, Ms. Park Y/N", he said and ran towards the door.

My competitive self couldn't hold back and I went after him. We ran around the lobby and ended up in another room. He held his hand behind his back and I was about to go near him when my feet tangled up with the carpet and I tripped towards him. As Mingyu wasn't expecting this, he couldn't balance himself and he fell with me on top of him. I raised my body but I was still straddling him. "I really want to kill you with my bare hands", I said.

Mingyu : "Go on"

"Oh I'd love that but there are witnesses around and I wouldn't wanna go to jail by killing a whore like you", I said it and he flipped me on my back in an instant with my hands pinned on either side of my head.

"Say that again and I'll really be a whore and fuck you right here", he seemed serious when he said that and the depth of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I needed a moment to process since he has never said anything like that to me before. I've called him a whore before but today he seemed to be affected by it.

"Get off me", I tried to set myself free but he didn't move a bit.

Before I could say or do anything more, the other four came into the room.

I turned towards them and I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. Jeonghan's eyes widened, Jisoo was trying to hold back her smile, Somi seemed startled and Soobin tried to look everywhere but us. I was trying to pull my wrists out of his grip but Mingyu just kept staring at me.

Jeonghan started coughing and that's when he got off but kept his eyes on mine and I felt somewhat intimidated.

We didn't get to say anything else as aunty came to call us for dinner. We're sitting around the table and enjoying the meal but I could feel eyes on me and I knew who they belonged to but I just didn't wanna look at him and reconfirm.

After dinner, the others planned a night out with 'nightmare' this weekend before we took our leaves. Jeonghan lives nearby us but I insisted him to stay the night at our place. My mom agreed as he has stayed with us before and she even convinced him to not go.

We went home and freshened up and it was around 3:00 am by the time we finished watching an animated movie in our living room.

Y/N : "You should go and sleep now, Soobin"

Soobin : "Good night and I'll leave the door open for hyung"

After he left, Jeonghan turned towards me. "You wanna tell me about the two of you now?"

Y/N : "Which two?"

Jeonghan : "You know what I'm talking about"

"We fell", I sighed.

"IN LOVE?", he almost shouted.

"Aish, no, I slipped and fell on top of him", I rectified.

"Well, last time I checked you were under him", he gave me a sly expression.

Y/N : "Do you have a death wish?"

"Okay, so what happened?", Jeonghan chuckled and asked.

"I called him a whore and he got pissed and flipped us", I explained.

"Ah, I see...did he say or do anything? You okay?", he asked and was ready to fight Mingyu.

"No, he didn't", I assured him.

Mingyu did say something but I thought it's better to not tell him now.

We talked about stuffs and cuddled for some time and then went to bed, Jeonghan slept in Soobin's room with him.

It's just been day 1 of meeting the 'nightmare' and things are already getting messy. But tonight's encounter felt different then the ones in the past. It wasn't teenagers teasing each other, it felt.......weird I guess. Maybe it's because we've grown up; I'm 22, he's 27 so clearly not teenagers anymore.

We've always been against each other and I don't even remember how it all started. All I know for now is that he's my best friend's brother, my cousin's best friend and my nightmare.

It's been two days since the dinner with Jisoo's family and the weekend's here. I was lying on my bed thinking about future and stuffs when my phone lit up.

DING,DING,DING!

Jeonghan and Jisoo were texting in our groupchat.

LEGENDS

Boyfriend : When are we leaving tonight?

Gangster's wife : After 8

Boyfriend : I'll pick Y/N

Gangster's wife : No I'll do that, you just be at my place on time

Boyfriend : 👍

Gangster's wife : I'm wearing this, how's it?

Gangster : I have an

important work to do

so can't come

Gangster's wife : You've 3 seconds to delete that shit you just wrote

And then my phone started ringing. Jisoo yelled at me the moment I picked it up. "It's been so long that we haven't had a night out and I was so excited for tonight and you just had to ruin it. We planned it that day, haven't we? So why won't you come?"

Y/N : "For the records; you all planned it, I didn't even say yes and I do wanna go out with you but just not tonight. You guys go and enjoy and that dress is pretty, by the way.

Jisoo : "Okay, fine. Either you're coming with us willingly or else I'll be at yours in 30 minutes and you know well that I have my ways"

Y/N : "Are you threatening me?"

Jisoo : "Yes, Ms. Park Y/N"

Y/N : "Ew, you sound like nightmare"

Jisoo : "What?"

Y/N : "Nothing. I really can't go, Soo-ya"

Jisoo : "I know work's important but pretty please? For me?"

That's when Jeonghan was calling me and I used it as an excuse.

Y/N : "I'll call you after a while, I need to take this call"

Jisoo : "Sure but you're coming with us and that's final"

And with that I answered Jeonghan's call.

Y/N : "Hey"

Jeonghan : "Was it Jisoo?"

Y/N : "Yes"

Jeonghan : "Look I know why you don't wanna go but I too want you to come with us. Why would you let him be in our way?"

Y/N : "I get it but I just don't wanna go"

Jeonghan : "Jisoo and I are gonna be with you so just consider him invisible"

Y/N : "I don't want Jisoo to be upset so I'll go"

"Yeah, right", Jeonghan scoffed making me laugh.

Y/N : "And you too"

We hung up and I let out a sigh. I didn't wanna go because I didn't wanna spend time with Mingyu but I realised that my friends are gonna be there and they're excited about it so I shouldn't be the party pooper. I'm gonna go and enjoy the night.

I called Jisoo back and she told me that she'll pick me up which I don't need her to do but she insisted. It's 6:30pm so I took a shower. I was getting ready for tonight when Somi video called.

"So, should I wear this or this?", she asked showing me two different outfits. Somi is a year younger than me and is like a younger sister to me.

(Author : Wait for a while and you'll know what I meant by "my cousin's best friend".)

[jmdbjk]

This is my bias...

Help me figure out what's happening here... is this the big dick energy I was talking about or just an optical illusion with the mirror?

Jimin was relaxed and seems like he has certain specific things he wants to accomplish and he's going after it in his usual Jimin-like way. He laughed when talking about what he's been doing and why he's not come to see us live. He said "Do you think I would be doing nothing?" and laughed:

Our Jiminie, through and through.

He addressed his busted up knuckles several times during the live.

Ok, here me out... if he's dabbling in martial arts again... what if Jimin is practicing breaking cinderblocks... because I feel like there are a few blockheads out there that need breaking...yes? But seriously, what if...?

One of the things that I love about Jimin is his self-awareness, his humility and his unpretentiousness. About attending the Dior event prior to this live he expresses how he views himself:

Nervous amongst people in those circles, he says he's a little uncertain and awkward. Though he might feel out of place because of how he views himself, we all know the impact he brings whenever he (or any of the other members) makes an appearance at events like this, no matter how briefly. Fans just want to see him.

One of the things he spoke at length on was how he's been assessing himself, saying it as if stepping back and evaluating what he was doing in a "cold" way, as in clinically critiquing himself.

He said he was able to learn a lot from his Face album activities and promotions and he is improving the way he does things from now on.

He felt like there were a lot of areas where he was lacking and instead of just working on fixing this or that, his mindset is to "start from scratch".

Looking back at it, the excuses are not acceptable to him... to say he was lazy and didn't practice enough or that equipment malfunctioned.

He heard the antis and the criticisms. I personally want to smash their heads in two but I digress with my violent little thoughts.

In order to feel confident while performing onstage he wants to change the way he approaches things.

Overall, Jimin seems like he's got his shit together. He knows there's a time crunch...

😭

He has been thinking how to spend his remaining time with us...

😭

But because he's re-evaluating himself, its taken a long time and I think he's still working on it.

😭

Other things he's mentioned during this live: he's composing new music, shooting a few things, working out, studying English.

He said if he doesn't force himself to take lessons he won't do it. Same, Jimin, same.

He mentioned that he goes out alone in the middle of the night to run along the Han River and when he does he sees Namjoon:

There was other stuff on his mind but he wouldn't share it.

He's been thinking deeply about his future. He is facing his own Chapter 2 (they all are and collectively we are calling this BTS Chapter 2) and he says starting anew is not easy. He's thought a lot about it and still considering how he wants to live his life and future.

You can understand more of his attitude as soon as someone says "Don't forget there are many people cheering for you, Jimin."

His reply is: If there were no people supporting me in my job then there is no need for me to do it.

This is his job. He is the artist. We are the fans. He is not going to forget that there are people cheering for him. He is not worried about fans disappearing as long as he delivers a good product to us.

He is reinventing Park Jimin. And he is taking time to do it and that's why he has not come to see us.

His goal is to change and he's fully confident he can do it. He feels a responsibility as a member of BTS and the man is out to conquer so I say watch out for future Jimin. He just asks for time to make it happen.

I said in a previous post a while back that Jimin – and the company – are not perfect. Speaking only about Jimin: after Face promotions were over and everyone was criticizing him and the company, I said he will evaluate what he's done and if he sees mistakes, things that could be done differently or better, he will fix them going forward. I told y'all this. This is exactly what he is doing.

He mentions that he cut his hair today... and described how long it was (to his chin) before he cut it and I'm crying. I hope he shot photos or video for something before he cut it so we can see...[cry]

His brief mention about Jungkookie's birthday:

My interpretation of his body language: The wheels are turning as he glances around, he is thinking about everything he knows that Jungkook is up to and matter-of-factly tells us "Jungkook is really busy." (Because I know what he's working on).

"I talked to him on the phone yesterday too." Too as in talked to him today as well since this day of Jimin's live IS JK's birthday.

He pauses a moment, thinking about what they spoke about/what he knows about Jungkook's activities and repeats "he's really busy," glances around again, still thinking about what Jungkook is up to and with an intake of breath and looking directly at us says he hopes Kookie-pookie takes good care of his health. He didn't say Kookie-pookie, that was me saying Kookie-pookie.

We know when Jimin is working intensely that he sometimes overdoes it. This is what Jimin implies when he says "he's really busy" and "I hope he takes care of his health" because Jimin can relate to the intensity of JK's activities.

Then asks us to please send his Jungkookie many birthday wishes.

Taking care of his Jungkookie, as he should.

And ending with his own thought about Jungkook's birthday: "It's a wonderful day, right?"

Awwwww.... so sweet. And then that little smirky smirk that I had to edit off because he smirked for another six seconds until someone else asked him AGAIN about his beat up knuckles.

Does he mean scroll back later after the live and look for his explanation about his scraped up hands or is he saying we'll find out later (in future content) why his hands are all beat up?

Then he scoops us up AND WALKS THROUGH HIS APARTMENT SJSKSKSKSJKJMOMFGWTFBBQ????!!!!

He's embarrassed his apartment is dirty or he'd show us. Ok, this is ALREADY A DIFFERENT PARK JIMIN.

My first reaction was NO SHIT, JIMIN! But he meant what he was about to show us was unusual for him. He wanted to show us his solar system mood light (my whole self burst with love for him when he did this).

He's laughing at himself the whole time he's setting it up, telling us his friend made fun of him, a 30 year old man with a mood light.

In bed with Jimin:

Versus in bed with Jungkook:

This is one of the ways I see Jimin transitioning himself. I don't know what the specific catalyst is/was but he's pivoted from being a total privacy freak to now walking around his apartment and showing us various rooms.

His dad's room when he comes to visit:

Jungkook has stated how he grew up learning from the members. You can see that he's learned a lot specifically from Jimin. Well, I think it's Jimin's turn to learn from Jungkook how to show another side of himself in this less inhibited way. I don't expect a naked-in-bed live from Jimin anytime soon but just the fact he showed us even a glimpse of his bed:

And then actually laid down on his bed and did this:

It's fitting he has a realistic solar system mood light. He was into astronomy in school, right? And as I said in a previous post, it makes sense now why the moons on his back look realistic.

He responded to a few comments and one about his earring, he's wearing one in his left ear but the right one got infected so he took it out.

When asked what his plans were for activities he said this:

[he said something that translated to "pondering" and I love him]

When asked to show his seven tattoos (behind his ear, his back, left elbow, right elbow, chest, wrist, finger) he said he posted it yesterday and he looked like an anchovy:

That's my bias, a skinny little anchovy with a heart as big as the universe and a smile that rivals the sunniest day.

I just want this man to be happy in his life:

Jiminie seems to be in control and thriving. I'm excited for him and my heart will break in a billion pieces when he leaves for enlistment. I know I will need to take the day off work (HOW CRAZY IS THAT??)

But sounds like he's going to show us/give us more before he goes and I feel very blessed that this one is my bias.

[actual-corpse]

Just got a rude reminder about how great it is to never have children/ be an only child.

There's too much drama involved with dying, apparently.

[cator99]

I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.