#it just frustrates me to no end how nobody understands anything. we are all just living here and trying to make it work.

[kings-highway]

some safe-for-work headcanons regarding how they might of gone about having sex for the first time for some of my favouritr haikyuu ships:

daisuga: look you know these bitches had it scheduled. not like a meticulous planned thing, but it was definitely something they knew was going to happen in advance. Like they talked about it, agreed they both wanted it, and then 3 weeks later Suga's parents go away for the weekend and they know like a solid week in advance that their "hang out" on Saturday evening is basically exclusively so they can have sex. They're very prepared. This also probably makes that week of training super annoying for the team bc they cant figure out why their captains are being SO overly giggly like you are seventeen/eighteen year old men wtf is going on.

iwaoi: i've always thought they were probably way more nervous than any of their friends assumed and definitely did not have sex as early as people thought. like mattsun and makki both constantly tease them in a way that insinuates they're actively having sex but they probably didnt actually do it until like... the last few months of high school. They were both just nervous! Iwa was very afraid of rushing things and doing it "wrong," and Oikawa wasnt even sure what doing it "right" would be so they had like 6 false-starts before they actually managed it.

ushiten: dorm living is not condusive to intimacy so when for the first time in like 8 months since they started dating that they have a confirmed evening with a locked dorm alone they end up making out for just a crazy amount of time. Tendou is too nervous to actually move anything forward because he's too anxious over the possibility of rejection but he keeps making these weird half-insinuations like "haha I cant believe nobody's going to be back for another four hours... we could do anything and get away with it... isnt that so funny... like nobody would know if we were making out or having sex or just reading a book... haha... isnt that crazy... me and you..." and he's all weird and twitchy about it until Ushijima tells him he doesn't think the idea of them having sex is crazy at all and then it is on immediately.

kuroken: highkey, kuroo probably lays out like a whole romantic, corny ass evening with candles and rose petals and is prepared to have a whole long conversation about being "ready" and Kenma just sort of rolls his eyes and is like "have you finished talking? this is Too Much. I need you to understand this is Too Much. Oh my god I love you but WOW." (it works anyway and Kenma is sufficient wooed).

tsukkiyama: this one might be a little out there but I genuinely think they're the most likely to have it happen by accident, or in a spontaneous moment of opportunity. Like they both intend to just take advantage of the empty house with only a bit of making out and then suddenly they're losing their clothes and it's like "we'll have a conversation about it tomorrow, im sure."

kagehina: okay this one is more stupid but I imagine after they've been dating a while Hinata is like "you know what, im ready to take the next step" but Kageyama cannot read ppl so Hinata's somewhat obvious attempts at seduction go entirely over his head, and Hinata is getting increasingly frustrated and dramatic and trying really really hard to get Kageyama to realize what he wants and it ends up causing a fight between them because Kageyama thinks Hinata is being weird and Hinata thinks Kageyama is being intentionally distant and eventually Kageyama blows up and is like "Oh my god if you want to break up or something just say so!!!" and Hinata is like "Oh my GOD I dont want to break up with you I want to have sex with you!!!" and of course that shuts everyone up and unfortunately Yachi is probably also there and wants to die.

[bouncybongfairy]

Stress Relief

Bakugou x Fem Reader

Summary: Aizawa offers you extra credit to tutor Bakugou for an upcoming test. Need I say more?

Word Count: 1.5k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Oral Female & Male Receiving, Facial.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Sitting in your room and dissociating never felt so good. It was finally the end of the week and you felt properly chewed up and spit out. Muscles were sore and brain was fried, all you wanted to do was sit in silence. Emptying out your backpack and organizing everything on to your desk. The stress you were under was slowly chipping away at you. Hearing a knock at the door made your eyes roll, the last thing you wanted was to interact with anyone. Wiping the scowl off your face, you go to greet the unwanted guest. The feelings of annoyance quickly turned into insecurity once you saw it was Aizawa and Bakugou. Trying to casually fix your appearance as he began speaking in his monotone voice. 

“Hello, sorry I didn’t mean to come to your dorm directly but this is a time sensitive matter. Bakugou needs a passing grade on this next test, I’m willing to bump your grade up 5% if you agree to help,” he explains, making Bakugou’s frown deepen. 

“Oh of course, we can start right now,” you said, practically beaming. Having your grade pushed up five percent was a God sent gift at this point in the semester. 

“Wonderful, Bakugou, please try to be open to the tutoring,” Aizawa said before walking away. 

You gestured for him to come in, made you feel nervous watching him take in the room. All your posters and collectables are now starting to feel a little dorky. Not really sure what to say, you just sat in silence as he took in your room. You were pretty soft spoken and he was anything but that. It often worried you seeing how dark he was. It was so apparent that his anger issues were coming from a deep wound from the past. When all your friends would gossip, they talked about him with such vascularity and objectification was quite sad. As much as you tried to discourage this, there were times you agreed. The intimidating look he always had written across his face. The way his pent up rage came out during combat training. 

It frustrated you knowing that he could overpower you. Any time you were paired to spar, he always managed to out maneuver you. Pinning you to the ground or wall. As much as it affected the confidence you had in your combat abilities, it made you feel warm and fuzzy. The last time the two of you were sparing, he grabbed your forearm so hard it left a bruise in the shape of his hand. You stared at it in the mirror for a while, confused why you liked it so much. Running your fingertips over the purple and brown blotches. Thinking about the way he looked into your eyes when throwing you to the ground. Walking away with no care or regard for you physically or mentally. It made you melt even though you’d never admit it. The two of you were sitting at your desk, helping him with his English assignment; he was getting frustrated and you were enjoying it a little too much.

“That just doesn’t make any fucking sense. The assignment was to summarize the fucking article. I don’t have to talk about my feelings about it, it’s not even specified!” he said, raising his voice. 

“I could understand you don’t want to give your opinion on it but the teacher isn’t going to accept it until you do. You’re being ridiculous,” you huffed the last part under your breath. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, folding his arms. 

“Nothing, i’m just saying the assignment-” you started but became interrupted. 

“No, go on. Explain why I’m ridiculous, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows and grinding his teeth. 

“You are ridiculous. Are you so ignorant that you don’t understand how lazy you are? You act like academics is optional and that you can rely solely on your combat. Nobody else will, so I'll be the first to tell you: Thinking physical prowess will get you where you wanna be is stupid and delusional,” you say, starting to pack his papers up. 

“If anyone is stupid and delusional it’s you, we both know the real reason you accepted this little study session,” he scoffs standing up. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, knowing exactly what he was implying. 

“Do you think I don’t notice you staring at me? Finding any opportunity to throw yourself at me. I can only imagine what runs through your head while you watch me. I have an idea by the way your cheeks flush and your pupils get wide. The way your body shakes when we spar. It’s stupid and delusional for you to think I'd ever want anything more than your body,” he said, now backing you against the wall.

You weren’t sure what to think, part of you felt like this was him showing his interest in you. Another part of you was worried he was just being cruel. Like he was stringing you along, trying to make you look desperate just to pull away.

“Interesting way to say you want my body, if you wanted me that bad you could just ask,” you patronize. 

“I wouldn’t have too,” he said, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you against the desk. 

You were now halfway sitting on the edge of the desk. Legs dangling off, separated by him grinding against you. Letting go of your hair, holding your face in his hands. The kiss was sloppy and wet, not being able to get enough of each other’s touch. You reached down and ran your hands up his back towards his shoulder. Lightly scratching down as he started kissing your neck. Nipping and sucking hickies on you, his heavy breathing giving your body goosebumps. Your hands begin to wander, fingers dipping into the back of his pants. Tracing all the way around, stopping when you felt his happy trail. He sits back on the office chair and stares you down. This makes you blush, sliding off  and onto your knees. Your body was slightly under the desk, he took your glasses off and set them down.. 

Genuinely being gentle, which made you feel more safe to be vulnerable and vulgar. Taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. He moaned softly as he collected your hair in his hand. Using the other to stroke your cheek and face. Eventually you start bobbing your head up and down. Looking up and watching his reaction, he huffs and grunts that pour out of his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed together and sweat started to bead on his forehead. Feeling him get harder and harder as things started getting more sloppy. His hands were getting rougher, both of them now laced in your hair. Helping fuck your head down on his shaft faster. Cursing and moaning, starting to buck his hips. Making you gag around and spit around his cock. He pulls you by the hair off him with a loud pop sound. Grabbing himself to smack and rub his tip against your lips as he tips over the edge. Covering your mouth and chin with his cum. 

Expecting him to be done but being taken off guard when he grabs your jaw. Bringing you to his level and smashes his lips against yours. Moaning into the kiss, being taken completely by surprise from how brazen he was being. He pulls away, a mix of saliva and his cum dripping down both your mouths. Standing up, he grabs your waist and lifts you on the desk. Sitting back down and spreading your legs, using his fingers to massage your clit. Moving down and eventually pushing a finger inside you. Bringing his lips down and starting to eat you out. Flicking his tongue, moaning as he felt you tighten around his fingers. Increasing the speed of both his hands and mouth. Stroking himself off, seeing you in so much pleasure was making his cock feel touch starved. Reaching your hands down and pulling and yanking. His hair was sweaty and you could feel him breathing hard against your core. 

You tried holding back your orgasm as long as possible, wanting to enjoy the pleasure before becoming overly sensitive. He pushes a third finger which makes you fall  over the edge. Feeling the walls of your cunt spasm and tighten makes him cum for a second time. Standing from his chair, rubbing his tip against your clit while continuing to finger you. Making eye contact as his warm cum covers your lower stomach. Resting your foreheads together, trying to catch your breath. He almost dozed off but eventually realized it was getting late. You were passed out, not wanting to wake you up, he carries you to the bed. Grabbing a towel and wiping you down. He didn’t want to go through your clothes, so he slipped his tee-shirt over you. Walking out in his tanktop, Kirishima gave him a side eye as he left your room.

[kami-kun1003]

Silver’s narcolepsy is so… interesting to me

everyone always talks about it like it’s a silly joke. like “ha ha sleepy boy!!!” which is. fine. but from what we see in the game, it’s undoubtedly a serious physical disability. it literally causes him to fall asleep randomly throughout the day and there’s no way he can fight it. that’s genuinely scary and a cause for concern. what if he fell asleep next to a lake and drowned or something??

i can’t help but think about how much it must affect him mentally. imagine you’re the only human in a fae family, and your whole life you believed that you would be the first to die, and you need to make the most out of the short time you have to repay your loved ones for raising you.

and the universe decides to give you a sleep disorder that completely hindrances your ability to do so. you doze off CONSTANTLY, wasting hours upon hours of precious time that you could’ve used for something more useful.

you can’t control it. once you feel that drowsiness, it’s over. nothing helps; you just can’t stay awake regardless of what you try. no one knows what’s wrong with you so you just assume that it’s your own fault for being so lazy. your father’s done everything he can, bless his kind heart, but even he can’t find a solution.

nobody understands what you’re going through, they all say it’s normal to feel bored or tired from schoolwork every now and then. which isn’t how you feel at all, but you just don’t have the words to describe it.

it gets to the point where you’re failing your classes because your body simply refuses to function the way it’s supposed to. your teachers blame you and they’re right, it’s your fault it’s all your fault isn’t it?

your peers make fun of or look down on you for being unusual. for always falling asleep. for not expressing emotion (doesn’t anyone else find it hard?). you feel ashamed. you try to fix it but you can’t. nothing can ever be fixed.

it’s frustrating to be unable to control your own body. you’ve grown used to it, and so has everybody else, although that doesn’t make it any less of a problem. but at this point it feels like there’s no other choice but to just live with it.

and in the end, you feel guilty. your father has given you everything, and yet you can’t give back. does that not make you a failure? a disappointment of a son? here you are, living, breathing, thinking, and you can’t even do anything to thank the person who gave you the luxury of existence.

wouldn’t you hate sleep? wouldn’t you utterly despise that feeling of drowsiness that overtakes your mind when you so much as stay still for a single minute? would you not cherish the moments in which lethargy did not plague you?

oh, how you wish there was a cure.

(tagging: @fruixtii )

[rogueshadow1124]

DEADLY SILENT

[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]

Platonic¡Jason Todd x Batsis!Reader, slight platonic¡Dick Grayson x Batsis!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago to this day Jason died, his younger sister found him at the scene but was too late to be able to stop his death- she ended up blaming herself and vowed to visit his grave...

Word count: roughly 1805

Warning: mature language, mentions weapons/some violence.

The youngest Wayne, strolled through the graveyard that was set a light by the neutral tones that seeped out of the lampposts nearby. Y/N made this a weekly occurrence, she couldnt seem to push away the thought of her older brother not being here anymore, she couldnt come to terms with the fact that he was indeed gone.

She came to a stop at the grave she visited everytime she had a chance to. Jason Todd, a loving brother and son forever in our hearts and never to be forgotten, 1990-2012. Y/N had always admired her older brothers but more so Jason as they were the closest and had a similar persona, when she found out he died a year ago to this day she completely broke and nobody knew for sure if she could be fixed.

"Its been a year Jay, a whole goddamn fucking year." The girl dropped to her knees, reaching towards the ga stone to set a hand upon it. "I'm hurting Jaybird, everything hurts so much and I dont know how to stop the pain. I dont even think its curable, I'm broken, I've become a unrecognizable person." Her head dropped, tears seeped out of her eyes and dripped down the curve of her cheek, trailing down her neck. "Dick said I needed to speak to someone, maybe a therapist but I refused. Bruce- he's given up. Alfred's trying to keep us together but it's not working. We need you- I need you."

A buzzing echoed through the air as her phone started to vibrate in her pocket, she let out a heavy breath while reaching down to grasp it and see that Dick was calling. Her thumb swiped across the screen to accept the call before pulling it up to her ear.

"Y/N/N where are you?" His voice rumbled through the other end of the device, he sounded panicked yet calm at the same time.

"Dont worry Dick I'm not gonna do anything stupid okay I'm just doing a usual weekly round, I need space, I need you all to stop treating like I'm still a child and let me mourn in my own damn way. I can handle myself, maybe it doesnt seem like it but I'm still here arent I?" She let out a sob at the end, her hands shaking as she let out a laboured breath this time, closing her eyes in an attempt to calm herself.

"Y/N can you come back home, theres something really important we need to discuss..."

"What part of 'I need to be alone' dont you understand Richard?" She heard her brother sigh on before the sound of a few things being knocked over and then Bruce scolding someone in a hushed tone. "I'm going now."

"No, wait. Y/N!" She ended the call, placing her phone back in her pocket. Her head tilted back up to look at the grave infront of her, her thoughts ran wild in her head as she tried to figure what she could possibly say next. In reality she was speaking to nobody, there was nothing but silence but she felt a huge amount of relief lift from her when she 'spoke' to Jason.

Her eyes then narrowed in frustration, hands coming up to tug at her hair while more tears blurred her vision and suffocated the soft surface of her face. Small, audiable cries passed her lips in distress and sadness, her body shaking from her crying and the slight chill of the cool midnight air that flew within the atmosphere.

Y/N hated the feeling of loneliness. With Jason being gone that's exactly how she felt, sure she had her other brother but Jason was the one she confided in, he was her protector. He reassured her, he was her shoulder to cry on, he was her rock and without her rock she had nothing to go back to, to lean on when she needed comfort-

She pushed herself up to stand on her feet, looking down at the gravestone before spinning on her heel and speeding down the narrow paths. Her hands came up to pull the hood of her jacket over her head, trailing down to slip into her pockets that were the only source of heat to radiate through her hands to stop them from becoming numb on this cold night.

The cars whizzed passed on the Gotham roads, horns blaring and tires screeching as they sped by.

Y/N only ever came out at night, it was a time where she could set free from her mind- not fully but it was relieving while it lasted. She hated the silence that surrounded her daily, though she all but loved it at the same time. When it was silent she would drown in her own thoughts however if someone broke the silence they would ask the same questions and suggest what could help her.

A hand shout out from her left, hauling her into an alleyway. She yelped at the sudden force, her back cracked slightly when she was slammed into the brick wall behind her making a groan slip from her lips. Her deep blue orbs, that now seemed to be duller than ever peered up at the attacker- dressed in fully back and had a light grey mask covering their face.

"Y/N Wayne." Came a male voice, sounding quite sinister.

"Who's asking." She replied dryly, leaning back into the wall as the male tightens his grip on her shoulders.

"My boss. Your father seems to have upset him and he doesnt take things like that lightly sweetheart." The man pulled a gun from his back pocket, bringing it up to hover over her face, the cool metal sliding it up to the bridge of her nose to rest against her forehead.

"Do it. Kill me." Her words never faltered which surprised the man, her hand raised to grasp the gun and pull it further towards her head, eyes crossing as she peered up at the gun.

"Oh, who would have thought. The Y/N Wayne begging for death." The man teased, tilting his head to the side as dark eyes pierced her own through the holes in the mask.

"I've got nothing left to loose. I'm miserable. Do it, just pull the trigger. Do it!" She pushed forwards as the mans finger went to pull at the trigger, eyes screwing shut as a rush of anticipation ran through her veins as she waited for the quick way out of life. It never came.

Her eyes peeled open to see another person, a metallic looking red helmet hid his whole head, a brown leather jacket along with a black shirt and dark, tight fitted jeans and a pair of matted jet black combat boots. The new comer held the attacker up by his throat as he rithed under his grip, hands clutching onto the gloved hands that wrapped around his neck.

"You're so dead." The red masked vigilante grumbled out in anger, his hands tightened around the other males neck making breathing a hard task to do before the attacker slowly grew limp in his arms and was dropped to the ground.

"Who the hell are you?!" The girl whispered shouted, looking him up and down. Her eyes trailed to the man on the floor who lay unconscious- maybe, possibly dead. She fell back against the wall, hands by her side as she threw her head back and sighed.

"What do you think you were doing Y/N?!"

"How the fuck do you know my name?" She stood back to her full height eyeing the vigilante with a puffy red eyes from when she had been crying not so long ago. She watched as a gloved hand moved up and hooked under the metal helmet, tugging at it so it revealed a face. A very familiar one at that. "No. Please. Oh- no."

"Y/N/N I know this seems weird right now okay, let me explain." Jason spoke, holding his hands out to her as she shook her head repeatedly and whispered a bunch of 'No's' and 'this isn't real'.

"Your dead, yo-your supposed to be dead. I-I saw your body, I didnt make it in time." She sobbed out loudly, looking directly at the 'replica' of her older brother. Her brows furrowed and her lip wobbled as she continued to cry uncontrollably. "A year ago today, we found you dead!"

"I-I was resurrected months ago Y/N, I'm here. I'm real. I promise." Jason stepped forwards slowly, pulling the broken girl into his embrace. The sound of a motorcycle revving sounded in the background making the no longer dead Jason look over his shoulder to see Dick in his nightwing costume.

"Did you find her, please tell me you found her." Dicks voice echoed within the alley, breathing out a breath of relief when jason moved his form to reveal the crying girl. "Oh thank god."

A slap suddenly came to fill the secondary of silence along with a Yelp. One of Jason's hands flung up to cup his burning cheek while his eyes met with Y/N's fiery gaze, her hands set on her hips as she continued to sniffle, tears still venturing down her cheeks.

"Y-your telling me you've been alive for months?!"

"W-well yeah, I-" he tried to respond but was near to immediately cut off by his younger sister raising her hand and waving it around.

"I-I'm miserable. Broken even, for a whole fucking year I was and your telling me you have been alive for a few months. I saw your body Jason, I was the first to find you and I completely broke when I knew I could have done something to prevent your 'death'." Her voice became softer as she relived the memory, images flashed through her mind as she recalled what she had seen when she found him dead.

"Y/N I've told you millions of times it wasnt your fault. Nobody could have stopped it from happening." Dick stepped to stand beside Jason so both of them were infront of her, a small smile etched onto his lips when she rammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest.

"But what if I could have prevented it Dick?"

"Theres no way you could have sweetheart." Jason stated, running a hand through her messy locks that splayed upon her head wildly.

"I love you Jaybird, so much. I missed you." She turned around and attatched herself to Jason, jumped in his arms which made him laugh as he caught her and she wrapped around him like a koala bear.

"I missed you too, little bird."

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past pt.13

Pairing: Hoshina Sohiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshino Soshiro.

pt.12

Y/N's pov:

The cool night air rustled my hair as I stood on the rooftop, the city sprawling beneath me like a glittering sea. I held my phone to my ear, waiting for Narumi to pick up. The mission had been weighing heavily on my mind, and I needed to share the details with him.

"Hey," Narumi's familiar voice crackled through the speaker. "How's it going?"

I took a deep breath. "Narumi, I've been following up on the mission you assigned me. Trying to find another human-kaiju is proving to be more difficult than we thought."

There was a pause on the other end. "What have you found so far?"

"Not much," I admitted, frustration seeping into my voice. "Whoever this kaiju is, they’re very good at staying hidden. I can’t detect them when they're in human form, just like I can’t be detected. But I’ve been keeping an eye on the new recruits."

"Anyone stand out?" Narumi asked, his tone serious.

"Yeah, actually," I replied, leaning against the railing. "There's this guy, Kafka Hibino. He’s an odd choice for the Defense Force. He's incredibly slow and seems to have no power at all. I can’t figure out why he was recruited."

Narumi sighed. "Keep an eye on him. Sometimes the least obvious suspects can be the most dangerous."

"Will do," I said, jotting down a mental note to watch Kafka more closely. "I'll keep you updated on any developments."

Narumi's voice softened slightly. "How was it facing Soshiro?"

I hesitated, the memory of our confrontation still raw. "It was...normal. He tried to talk to me, but I kept him at arm’s length. I plan to keep it that way."

"I’m sorry you have to go through this," Narumi said. "If you need to get out of the Third Division or if things get too hard, just let me know. I'll make sure you’re reassigned."

I felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you, Narumi. I appreciate it. But I want to see this through. I need to prove to myself that I can do this."

"I know you can," Narumi said confidently. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you."

I smiled, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Narumi," I said, my voice hesitant, "do you have any updates on Mr. Orochi's murder?"

There was a pause on the other end before he replied. "Nothing concrete yet. No cameras caught anything, and no weapon has been identified. It's like he just vanished and then reappeared dead."

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling inside me. "How can that be? There must be something."

"I know," Narumi sighed. "We've interviewed some of the workers from the bar, but nobody knows anything beyond his odd behavior toward the end. It’s like he wasn’t the same person."

"His odd behavior," I echoed, thinking back to our last conversation. "He was acting strange that day. Almost like…like he wasn’t human."

Narumi's voice softened. "I promise you, Y/N, we’ll find out who did this. But it’s a complex case. We have so little to go on."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "I know you’re doing everything you can. It’s just hard to accept."

"I understand," he said gently. "Mr. Orochi was important to you. But we have to be patient. These things take time."

"Yeah," I murmured, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "I just…I want justice for him."

"And we’ll get it," Narumi assured me. "In the meantime, focus on your mission. Keep me updated on Kafka and any other leads you find."

"Will do," I said, my voice firmer. "Thanks, Narumi."

We ended the call, and I slipped my phone into my pocket, the unresolved questions about Mr. Orochi’s death swirling in my mind. As I looked out over the city, I made a silent vow to uncover the truth, no matter how long it took.

The following morning, I threw myself into my work with renewed determination. Training with the Third Division was rigorous, but it kept my mind occupied. I kept a close watch on Kafka, my suspicion growing with each passing day. His behavior, though seemingly harmless, was too ordinary—too calculated.

After an intense training session, I retreated to the rooftop once again. The solitude offered a chance to clear my mind. I dialed Narumi’s number, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit more upbeat. "How’s it going?"

"Slow progress," I admitted. "But I’m not giving up. Kafka’s still the most strange out there, although, there are some pretty interesting suspects, they are very strong for beginners, but nothing that indicates that the strenght comes from a kaiju.."

"Keep at it, you're doing great" Narumi encouraged.

"Thanks," I said, appreciating his support more than he knew. "Narumi, do you think there could be others like me out there? Humans who’ve been turned into kaiju?"

There was a thoughtful pause before he replied. "It's possible. If it happened to you, it could happen to others. We need to be vigilant."

I nodded, feeling a sense of purpose. "I’ll keep that in mind."

--

Sitting in my assigned room, I stared blankly at the wall, the weight of Soshiro’s words pressing heavily on my mind. His suggestion that Narumi and I had something between us was absurd, yet it gnawed at my thoughts. How could he have seen us kissing? I had no recollection of such a thing ever happening. The confusion was overwhelming.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Narumi’s number, my heart pounding in my chest. It was late, but I needed answers.

"Hey, Y/N," Narumi answered, his voice surprisingly alert for the hour. "Everything okay?"

"Narumi, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I need to talk to you about something," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"Sure, what’s up?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"I had a conversation with Soshiro when I went to ask him questions about the Kaiju" I began, taking a deep breath. "He got a little of track and he suggested that you and I have some sort of relationship. He even said he saw us kissing at the bar where I worked."

Narumi was silent for a moment, clearly processing what I had just told him. "I never spoke to Soshiro about any relationship," he finally said, confusion lacing his words. "Why would he think that?"

"I don’t know," I admitted, feeling a sense of frustration. "But he was so convinced. He said he saw us kissing. Do you remember saying anything that may habe been misunderstood?"

Narumi hesitated, a sigh escaping his lips. "There was one night," he began slowly, "after one of your performances. You got blackout drunk and…you kissed me."

I felt my heart stop. "What?" I whispered, mortified. "I…Narumi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I basically assaulted you."

"Hey, it’s okay," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You were drunk, and it wasn’t like that. You didn’t know what you were doing."

My face burned with embarrassment, and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. "I’m so sorry," I repeated, feeling utterly humiliated.

Out of nowhere, Narumi’s tone shifted. "You know Y/N, you can do whatever you want with me," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "I’ll let you."

I blinked, completely taken aback. "What?" I stammered, my cheeks burning.

"With Soshiro out of the picture," Narumi continued, his voice dripping with a mix of seduction and playfulness, "I can show you what a real man feels like. Can you do me a favor?"

"Um, sure," I said, still trying to process the sudden change in his demeanor. "What do you need?"

"Say my name," he requested, his voice dropping to a deeper, almost husky tone.

"Narumi?" I replied, unsure of where this was going.

"No, Y/N," he corrected gently. "Come on, say my name."

Realization dawned on me, and my heart raced faster. "Gen?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

On the other end of the line, I heard Narumi almost moan. "Yes," he breathed, his voice sounding deeper and more intimate. "You make me so happy."

I felt a rush of heat flood my face, completely speechless. Before I could respond, Narumi added, "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice filled with concern. "You sound…weird."

"I’m more than okay," Narumi assured me. "You just made my night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Y/N."

With that, he hung up, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite identify.

I sat there for a long time, replaying the conversation in my head. What just happened?

[bella-rose29]

Bank Holiday ~ a DTH Special

the Schmoopies are back!

only a little one this time bc I actually couldn't think of much to write oops, I just knew I wanted to see my Schmoopies again

word count: 894 words

warnings: like... two? swears? and the ending is kinda meh bc I couldn't figure out how to write it edit: also unedited so any mistakes are purely at the fault of that whoops

(the picture is related I swear)

Anthony Lockwood was confused. 

He was often confused, so that didn’t mean much, but he rarely told people that he didn’t understand what was happening. 

Unfortunately his girlfriend could read him like a huge sign in neon lights and block letters on the side of the Fittes building, and within about five seconds of him walking into the kitchen she was asking him what was wrong. “You look confused, Schmoopie. What’s up?” She popped the ‘p’ at the end, perfectly in sync with the teabags she was holding being put into the mugs lined up on the counter.

Anthony cast a glance around the kitchen before leaning in and whispering “Why is Lucy still in her pyjamas?”

“Anthony, we’re the only ones in the kitchen. Why are you whispering, dumbass?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, sighing and leaning back against the nearest chair. “Why is Lucy still in her pyjamas? And where are you going?” Y/n had pulled her boots on while he’d been talking, and now she was heading for the hallway. He followed after her, partly closing the kitchen door behind him. 

“Oh, the tea was for you three. I’m just heading out for tea with my mum and Will; they’ve come down for the weekend but we were busy before now. Can you get my coat down please?” Anthony obliged, reaching for a jumper at the same time. When she looked at him in question, he shrugged. 

“It’ll be cold out. The wind is still pretty strong and you haven’t got a jumper.” He tugged it over her head, laughing when her head poked through the top with her hair all messed up. 

“Why are you giving me your jumper? I’m pretty sure I’ve got one hanging around here.”

“I’m so offended right now,” he said, shaking his head and staggering back. Y/n snorted. “You mean you don’t want to wear the jumper that your loving boyfriend just helped you put on? That I am sacrificing for you?!”

“Shut up,” she laughed, pushing at his chest when he came back towards her and snuck his arms around her waist. 

“Anything for you,” he grinned. Somebody behind him groaned, and when Anthony turned his head he caught sight of George at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Can you please go one day without being all lovey-dovey with each other? I would rather not throw up today.” He slumped down the final step, scratching at his side and making his shirt ride up to expose his very trouser-less legs. Disappearing into the kitchen, Anthony frowned after his friend. 

Why was nobody ready for work other than him? And how come Holly wasn’t here yet? He supposed they could make do without Y/n (although he would much rather that she stayed home with him all day), but did nobody seem to understand that they were a company who worked every day of the week?! “…Anthony? You alright?”

“Why is no one dressed?!” He lifted his arms to gesture wildly in the air. “It’s ten in the morning and George has only just come downstairs, Holly isn’t here, Lucy’s in her pyjamas still - am I missing something?” He huffed in frustration, arms flopping back to his sides. They were a prestigious company, and nobody would believe that if they saw George in his half-dressed state with jam on his shirt.

“Ant, you do know… that it’s a bank holiday today, right?” Y/n was trying not to laugh, but a faint smile was playing on her lips. 

“What?”

“It’s the anniversary of Fittes and Rotwell finishing their first successful case? Government declared it a public holiday a few years ago? And you decided not long after that we would have the holiday off every year? Is this ringing any bells?” Her smile had grown now, and Anthony felt his cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Well, thank you for the jumper, Schmoopie!” She was far too cheery about this, and Anthony pursed his lips in response. 

“Piss off,” he grumbled, not really meaning it. She knew he was stewing like his tea currently was (ah, he should go and sort his tea out), so she pressed a small kiss to the end of his nose and turned for the front door. Anthony reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her back in. “You missed,” he said, planting a kiss on her mouth. 

“Better?”

“Better. Say hi to your Mum and Will for me.”

“I will. Enjoy your day off, Ant.” She stepped out of his embrace and unlocked the front door, blowing him a last kiss before she was gone. 

“Stupid bank holidays. Why didn’t we put that in the calendar?” He shuffled back towards the kitchen for his tea just in time for George to appear with the calendar in his hands, showing off a very large red circle around today’s date and the words ‘DAY OFF’ in the middle. 

“Idiot,” said George, shoving the calendar at his friend. “Your tea’s looking a bit stewed, by the way. Oh, and we ran out of pulpy orange juice.” He didn’t seem too bothered about the fact that he’d just ruined Anthony’s morning by announcing there was no juice left, and he schlepped back up the stairs with a tea mug in one hand and a plate of toast in the other. 

tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlitcanvas, @cielooci, @35-portlandxrow, @laumire

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

[frickingnerd]

people will talk (no matter what)

pairing: junpei iori x gn!reader

summary: when a group of girls makes fun about junpei behind his back, you stand up for him! only that junpei has been secretly listening this entire time...

“what's your exam score?”

“mine is pretty low… but hey, junpei seems to have done even worse than me, so at least i'm not the worst in our class!”

laughter echoed through the hallway, as a group of girls stood in front of the bulletin board that the results of the last exams were on. even at the stairs, junpei could hear them, quietly sitting there and listening to them making fun of him behind his back, even though he knew it would only hurt him if he stayed and listened…

“that guy… does he even study? i mean, nobody can be that dumb!”

“you're right! he really is good for nothing! but he isn't even hot enough to be that dumb!”

again, laughter echoed through the hallway, as junpei gripped onto the hem of his uniform in frustration. that's how people thought about him behind his back? a good for nothing, with bad looks and bad grades?

“that's not true–!”

suddenly, a familiar voice snapped junpei out of his thoughts. and even the girls who were just making fun of him seemed to be startled. as junpei listened in closely, he recognized your voice. you were the one who moved into the dorms recently! the one who seemed to have potential to join S.E.E.S.!

“junpei might not have the best grades, but he's not stupid! perhaps academics aren't his strong suit, but he's a hard worker! even late at night, he's studying with the others at the dorms! so, don't talk about him like that–!!”

junpei needed a moment to realize what you were talking about. what you had mistaken for nightly study sessions actually were trips to tartarus. though it was true. he gave it his all when it came to S.E.E.S.! he was working hard on becoming stronger and useful to the team, leading to his grades suffering because of it.

“w-what? what are you even talking about?”

the girls that you had confronted seemed perplex that someone would actually stand up to them, especially for junpei iori, of all people!

“is he like… your boyfriend?”

“yeah, why do you care so much about that loser?”

junpei quietly left his spot on the stairs, to sneak a glance around the corner at you. and there you were, hands on your hips and an angry look on your face, as you scolded those girls.

“he may not be my boyfriend, but i still care about him! i think junpei is a great guy! and if you don't know him, you shouldn't talk about him like that! he deserves better than that!”

some of the girls have gotten a bit quiet, almost as if they were starting to regret what they said.

“well… w-whatever!” one of them huffed. “guess he's someone's type, even if we can't see anything good in him~!”

with a last dismissive comment and an eye roll, the group of girls left the scene, leaving you all alone. or rather, leaving you all alone with junpei, who had been listening in until the very end.

“that was… really nice of you!”

you jumped surprised when you suddenly heard junpei's voice. as you looked around frantically, you spotted the boy by the stairs, walking towards you with a sheepish smile.

“j-junpei? i–”

you panicked a little.

“since when were you here…?”

“before you joined the conversation…”

“oh…”

there was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, as neither of you quite knew what to say. junpei didn't want to make any assumptions based on what he heard, while you worried that he might realize why you were defending him.

“i– i’m sorry!”

you eventually broke the silence.

“i'm sorry that you had to hear that. but… they were wrong about you! i think… you are a great guy, junpei! a really, really great guy…”

you could feel your cheeks heat up as you said those words, staring at junpei, unsure if you wanted him to understand what you meant or not.

“you're… pretty great too!”

junpei replied with a sheepish smile, gently bumping his fist against your arm.

“standing up for someone like that… i couldn't have done that, i think. you're much more confident than i am…”

“n-no, i– i'm not confident at all, actually…”

how could you call yourself confident if you couldn't even tell junpei you had a crush on him? talking about him behind his back was easy! in that regard, you were just like those girls. but saying it to his face was the hard part.

“you're… not?”

junpei seemed a bit confused.

you softly shook your head.

“if i was confident, i… well, i would–”

i would confess to you, right here and now! that's what you wanted to say. but you couldn't get those words out.

“i think i understand you…”

junpei rested a hand on your shoulder and smiled, noticing how nervous you had gotten.

“you don't have to say it, if you can't do it, you know? not like i could blame you for it! after all, i'm the biggest coward of all. i couldn't even stand up for myself, nor could i say what i think you mean to say. so it's alright if you can't say it! i think i still get what you mean…!”

[thelonelysoulhome]

Doumeki is the first person ever to reach out his hand to Yashiro:

(Part 3)

When Doumeki first meet Yashiro he is a 36 years old man with strong anchored beliefs, that diged all his traumas deep deep inside of him, traumas that he nourished everyday for 26 years at this point. He suffers, but in silence,

he suffers, but nobody sees, cause he's really good at hiding, at faking, after all, people are actors.

Like I said before Doumeki is the first person ever to ask Y if he's okay and that on their first encounter.

For the first time in Yashiro's life someone try to help him.

And ask a question: are you okay ? Are you okay with what happening ? Do you need help ?

At this point it's not like Y could Say:

"Oh yes I'm deeply traumatised from all the abuse I lived as a kid and that never ended till now, I had to face everything alone and to endure everything, I had to hide the true me real real deep and live as a cold lustful maso cat seeking violent sex as a coping mechanism to protect myself from more external harm"

He's more like;

"Of course I'm okay dumbass... I like violent sex, I can't feel anything if it's not painfull, I always lived like this and it's fine, I don't need anyone, I'm alright as long as everyone treats me like they always did : badly, without care, like an old rag.

For Yashiro, the familiar feel safe, and the change feel overwhelming, frightning.

That how his distorted brain function .

It's in this state of mind that he come into the presence of Doumeki.

We know D always though that Y was beautyful, (he confess that to Y in chapter 1), and that the yakuza world could not be that bad if someone like Y was part of it.

But everything takes a big shift when Y help D to reconnect with his sister Aoi :

At this moment D understand that Y is more than what he just pretends to be.

Y is neither cold or cruel, he's the opposite of that, he's gentle, he's kind, he's sensible, he don't judge, he's strong, cause suffering is never a reason to pity someone, it's a reason to respect them, respect for their strenght to endure it.

Y never shows those sides of him, he try hard to burie them cause for him, they are weaknesses, and he can't take the risk to be weak again.

But it's too late, D already saw little fragmants of the real Y.

And now, he's resilied to stay by his side no matter what :

"I'll do anything, as long as I can stay beside you"

He'll do anything, but it's only a matter of time for him to no longer being able to bear the way people treat Y, and the way Y treat's himself.

D don't understand how kage dosen't notice Y like he does,

He is angry that nobody sees Y the way his eyes do it.

Haaa look at how he stare at his smile... He just want to see him happy.

(The world D use in japanese for 'beautiful' is "きれい" (kirei) that kinda mean beautiful but also clean or pure, meaning that he think Y is beautiful on the outside but also and mainly from the inside)

For him Yashiro is kind, strong and beautiful.

He keeps on by saying that he respect Yashiro.

He's attracted to Y in a way he never been before with anyone, and he sincerely care for Y.

He don't want to use him like a toy like misumi.

He don't pity him like kage.

He don't want him to be something else (a woman) like ryuzaki

(that a deeply dislike btw... And Y is so kind that he take risk to save his ass..)

He love's Y for who he trully is, and he want to protect him.

In this moment D is mad and frustrated, not because Y is having sex with another guy, but because he is being harmed by someone, again. He want's to deffend him but he feel powerless, and that hurt him a lot.

I see some people saying that D is possesive and jealous, and that he has no words to say about what Y is doing with his body, (and normaly I agree whit that) but we know Y's case is far from being normal. Y uses violent sex as a form of self harm to cope with his trauma.

All the men Y encountered always treated and abused him really really badly,

And Y let it all happen not by choice, but because he never lived something else, he been used his whole life, he never chosed anything that happened to him, he undergoes everything . everyone always treated him badly everyone neglected him; his stepdad, his mom, shcool, all the men he encountered, ryuzaki, misumi, they all abused him, and he is so deep in selfloathing that he dosen't care anymore. He's resilieted, he so damaged that his numb.

But D is not okay with that. Is that something this bad ? Is that this bad to want to protect someone you love and care for, from further harm and abuse ?

D is not just being possesive and jealous, he can't bear seeing Y being treated this way. Who could ?

If you saw someone you love and care deeply for, harming themself daily in front of you, you won't do anything ? You won't try to stop them ? You won't try to protect them from this harm ? You can't just say "oh I'm not interfering, their life their choices" when someone is consuming themself little by little in front of your eyes.

Yashiro did not chose this, he suffered, and then he made himself suffer, cause it's the only thing he knows.

No one ever tend he's hand to him, and told him that he doesn't need to treat himself this way anymore...💔

See you part 4.

(How many part I'm gonna write, bear with me lol)

[immajustvibehere]

Spark (8/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 8 summary: Found and taken in by the Natives, Arthur is walking a fine line of living and dying. In the grip of illness and fever, he often imagines seeing you by his side.

This is a long chapter, so I gave it sub-headings. Easier to manage if you can't read it in one go :)

link to my masterlist

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven

7500 words, +30 minutes reading time

I. The Downfall of the Gang

A prevailing notion circulated in the gang that you and Molly shared culpability for the Pinkertons’ decent upon Lagras. They nearly razed the settlement to the ground, and the frustration about the new location of camp being found out so soon certainly didn’t help to improve the general mood. With you gone, there was no way you could justify yourself and nobody was keen on defending you either, though some people were convinced of your innocence either way. Notably, Abigail, though somewhat resenting you for having left, given Jack’s affinity for you and John’s confinement, was sure you wouldn't send the agency to shoot at them. Artur knew that you wouldn't do such a thing, as you had absolutely no reason to. Many people in the gang knew that it was way likelier that the Pinkertons picked up the trail from some of the boys coming back from Guarma, considering the gang was worth almost nothing without its leader anyway.

Dutch readily agreed that it must have been you, his main intention probably being to silence Micah, whose ceaseless prattle on the matter had grown unbearable. Micah spit phrases like: "She probably thought that she could get rid of us so we wouldn't go after her for the betrayal."

This went too far, even for Dutch’s taste, who was aware that they had other battles to fight. It was useless to hunt either you or Molly down and just a waste of resources and guns that were scare to begin with.

Arthur was distraught that you were gone. When he rode out with Charles, to search for a new camping spot up North, Charles handed Arthur the gun that he had borrowed you. The gesture resonated with a finality surpassing all preceding farewells…though there hadn’t even been proper good-byes.

"She uhm...she said anything? 'bout where she's headed?", Arthur asked as he let the gun slip into his saddle bag.

"I'm sorry", Charles shook his head, "She was a great help when we moved camp, but she disappeared soon after. She gave me the gun and told me to hand it back to you if I get the chance. You know, we weren't even sure if you had survived."

And the topic was left at that. The gang moved to Beaver's Hollow and Arthur felt a sickness nagging on his body. He started boiling with rage, every time your name was mentioned in a negative sense. Mostly by Dutch and Micah. Soon after, Bill started to complain about you too. Arthur would be lying if he told someone that he wasn't looking for you. It wasn't an active search, but whenever he was in town, he'd ask a few men at the bar if they had seen a woman of your description. Though the answers were barely trustworthy most of the time.

At the saloon in Annesburg, he spoke to a drunk man, who, as answer to your description mumbled a "fierce little creature" before he fell asleep on the table. This was the best lead Arthur had, and it wasn't nearly enough. He was roaming the country, avoiding collecting the debts, suffering under how sluggish his body was willing to comply to what he wanted it to do.

The first time Arthur was happy you had left, is when the doctor had told him, that he had tuberculosis. Until then, Arthur had mixed feelings. He appreciated that you left the gang to save yourself, because it took no genius to understand that whatever had bound the gang together was a thin thread that threatened to snap any moment. When he saw how Molly ended, however miserable he felt for her, he had been glad it wasn't you that had come back to die in the dirt. And still he had harboured feelings of resentment for you. Leaving without a word, without showing yourself ever again, when on that ride back from Guarma to Shady Bell he had hoped for you to be there, for some hug or any sort of gentle sign that would have soothed his aching soul and body. He realized soon that he was foolish to hope for that. And that Micah was right to accuse him of having become soft, if your gentle hands was all he could think of, despite your hands being mostly anything but gentle.

But as he sat outside camp, wheezing and wiping the blood off his lips that he had coughed up, he was glad you weren't here. Whatever urges he had to be comforted, to see something else but a bitter and angry face, the feelings of having failed and paying for his sins was the stronger force. He deserved it, after all. And he shouldn’t wish for comfort.  

-

He, as many others, tried to avoid camp as often as possible. In those two weeks, when the hostility between him and Dutch was especially high, because he and Sadie had rescued John from prison, he spent most of the days roaming the country and helping strangers. It wasn't that those trips took his mind off you, quite the contrary.

It was when he was out fishing with Hamish, a veteran with an impulsive horse, that he mentioned you for the first time to anyone that wasn't Charles or Mary-Beth (not counting Jack, who regularly asked where you where and why you had gone).

"Ya know. There's this girl...we went fishing a while ago and she couldn't deal with the waiting."

Hamish felt that it was dangerous territory, so he considered Arthur's pondering face for a while before he finally said: "You should take her here sometime. While we wait for the fish to bite, I can tell her stories so interesting, she' gonna hope that nothing bites."

Arthur chuckled sadly and shook his head: "She left, 'm afraid. She was right to do so. Ain't especially lucky to be around me."

As if the universe heard those words, Hamish was pulled into the water only moments after by the gigantic Pike they were after. It gave him and Arthur something to laugh in the aftermath.

-

"I'll draw them away from you! Go!", Arthur yelled, desperate pulling the reigns of his horse as John dismounted his.

"Come with me", John implored, "We can make it out of here!"

But Arthur understood he couldn't. The train heist only hours before and Abigail’s rescue had drained his strength. His body was tired, no, it was surrendering. He knew he couldn’t keep up the pace. His horse was his only support now, if he abandoned it, his legs would betray him. It wasn't just the tiredness of his limbs, he felt nauseous, sick, the sweat was on his forehead, causing his hat to cling uncomfortably.

"No. I pushed all I can”, Arthur’s voice was strained, “I'll buy ya some time, keep them off your back a while longer, you run and join Abigail and Jack."

"You're my brother!"

"I know", and with those words said, the brothers turned their backs to each other, John fleeing up the mountain, Arthur desperate circling the small area with his horse, firing round after round until he had shot himself a path of escape. The horse’s pained bucking under the impact of a bullet seared through Arthur’s heart, yet he urged it on. The loyal animal complied, carrying its master through thicket and woods as bullets whizzed past. Finally, it collapsed, half of its heavy body falling on Arthur who had ungraciously been thrown off.

The head of the horse was weirdly twisted, but Arthur still heard its heavy breaths. That aside, it was silent in the forest. Killing it would be the noble thing to do. But his vision was already blurred when his hands crept to his gun that was long out of bullets. And before he realized that it was silent in the forest and he had managed to shake the Pinkerton’s, Arthur closed his eyes, not being able to fight the exhaustion any longer.  

He was dead. Or dying, at least, because every time he gained consciousness, his whole body felt like it was on fire. With immense effort, he pried his eyes open, only to be greeted by a hazy image, his pounding headache blurring his surroundings. Arthur struggled against his own lethargy, he wanted to gain control of his body again. Neither of his limbs moved, no matter the effort he was putting into it. His eyes wouldn’t focus, his chest no rise enough for a proper breath. Every time however, without failure, weariness washed over him and unconsciousness reclaimed him before he could even form a thought about the state he was in. It was a cruel cycle.

When Arthur woke up for the third, maybe fourth time – there was no way of keeping count of those seconds of consciousness – he thought only one thing: Namely, that if that was dying, he hoped it would go a little quicker.

At some point, Arthur stirred awake. He felt stronger than before and finally had enough wits to take in some of his surroundings. It was nighttime, he perceived the nocturnal chorus of crickets. His attempt to open his eyes was met with a revelation, his vision, though fatigued, offered him a somewhat clear image. It was exhausting to look; he barely blinked a few times. He was in a tent, or something of that sort, he noticed. And it rocked around, like a boat or a waggon…or maybe he was just feeling dizzy. And when he managed to move his head just a little, to glared to the side, there were you. For a second, Arthur thought nothing. Then he concluded that he must be dreaming or was indeed dead and this was some funny way to pay for his sins. He closed his eyes. His arms felt too heavy, he wouldn't be able to rub his eyes or pinch his nose in concentration. But he simply opened them again. And the image of you was gone. So was Arthur's consciousness, a few moments later.

II. The Recovery

Over the next couple of days, Arthur would wake up from time to time. Sometimes seeing you, sometimes faces of women he didn't recognize. Dark skin and dark hair, Indians, he thought. Then he'd have nightmares that sometimes took his breath away and he'd wake up, feeling like a heavy weight was crushing his chest. And there would be someone - you, another woman, some strange man - pressing wet rags to his face and he wasn't strong enough to complain about it. To tell them to stop because it kept waking him up from dying, from sleeping, from unconsciousness. Whatever that black void was he'd fall in, but he much preferred it because then his body didn't hurt so much.

"You're going to be alright, mister."

Arthur opened his eye to look into the face of a dark-skinned woman. Braids falling from her head that was dangling right onto his face. There was the wet rag again, but it didn't feel so crushing this time.

Finally, his vision was…almost clear.

It was she who explained that he had collapsed and now was with Rains Fall’s people, as they were heading North to escape. The women that took care of him, Arthur caught glimpses of three different faces and though his headache was mostly gone, a persistent cloudiness lingered over his senses. Maybe it was because he sometimes seemed so confused or because he still lacked some control over when he fell asleep out of exhaustion, but when they talked to him, it was always very vague.

"Your friend will return soon. He's securing the perimeter, but he'll be back in a day or two", one of the women explained to him. They must mean Charles, he was certain. But when he wanted to ask, he found that it was hard forming words. His throat was parched and the attempt to speak yielded only a hoarse croak. A sympathetic smile from the woman conveyed understanding, at least.

….

You had sat at his side for four hours. It was late at night, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave his side. You had been running errands the last couple of days and had missed him waking up. Well, waking up without fever and therefore capable of forming thoughts. Tonight, he was restless, dreaming maybe.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and grabbed your wrist. His hand was clammy, still remnants of his sickness and probably his latest nightmare, but this time – for the first time ever – he was fully awake.

"It's okay, I'm right here", you reassured him.

Arthur simply stared at you like you were a ghost. Then his eyes narrowed to one of his signature contemptuous stares. It was a terrifying expression that you had seen a couple of times before. His nose would scrunch in disdain and his facial muscles were coiled with tension – a sign of irritation. In a firefight, it marked the precipice of drawing his gun; in a brawl, it forewarned of the impending launch of his first punch.

"Yer real" Arthur stated, his assertion hung in the air. His voice was low and quiet. It sounded like he needed something to drink, something to oil up his throat that has dried up from weeks of not using it.

"Unfortunately so, yeah", you said. Your heart sped up. He was awake. Finally. After all those days of not knowing if he'd make it, he was okay. Far from fit or fully recovered, but he wasn't dying no more. The thought made your eyes wet and forget about Arthur's sceptical glance.

Arthur blinked slowly. Those weren't dreams. They never had been. You had been there all this time.

Arthur closed his eyes again without saying something. His hand slipped from your wrist and onto his chest. He didn't want to talk, no, he didn't even want to see you right now. A swell of emotions came over him and he wasn't sure how to feel about your presence. For his inner turmoil, he kept silent on the outside, giving you the impression that he had dozed off again.

Eventually, he really fell asleep. Though when he awoke and pled for water before even opening his eyes, it was you who led a bowl to his lips. Whenever he woke up, you would be there, ready to jump at his commands. You didn't speak about why you were here or where you had been. Nothing of that matter. Nothing about Dutch or Micah or little Jack. It was always just handing him water or soup or helping him change his clothes.

Two days later, Charles showed up with a warm: "Welcome back, brother." It was he who explained what had happened. That two Indians had found him unconscious, buried under his horse. That his leg had been bruised from the impact, and he was weak, feverish and on the brink of death. It was an intricate matter, caring for him while heading North with the tribe and he admitted that only after one day with him under their care, Charles had seriously considered staying behind and caring for him. It had slowed down the group that much. Then they ran into you, simply sitting on your horse and watching the caravan of people go, before catching Charles' eye.

Arthur remained conflicted when Charles broached the topic of you. This inner struggle was not lost on Charles, keen observer that he has always been.

"She took good care of you. Without her, your recovery might have been in doubt."

And as this didn't seem to do the trick, he added…

"She sat with you every night. Washed you, made sure you had everything you needed. Even though Rains Fall disagreed, she stole a waggon so you had a comfortable place to get better.”

“She had left, Charles…”, Arthur croaked. You leaving the gang behind had left him with mixed feelings. He had worked through them before and had arrived at the conclusion that it was better for you, and still…seeing you here, healthy and restless, he regretted not having you there at the end. You could have been of great assistance. Could have prevented Abigail from being taken or made John’s prison break easier. Hell, he might have had more fun killing the last of the O’Driscoll’s if you had been by his side. The prospect of your sudden absence when he might have required your presence left a bitter aftertaste in his mind.  

“Don’t blame her for that. She had no obligation to stay, she was only with us for little more than a month at this time and she could tell that it was coming to an end”, Charles said.

Arthur thought what might have happened if you had been there at the stand-off. The notion of having another ally by his side, countering the overpowering presence of Bill, Javier, Micah and his two traitorous cronies, weighed heavily on his mind Yet, this reverie crumbled upon realization – there was the cruel possibility that instead of Miss Grimshaw, you would have found your demise. Or considering your proclivity for action over passivity, you might have opened fire earlier and would have caused an even worse outcome. Yes, maybe your absence had been the better.

“She rode hours through rain to fetch you a doctor”, Charles went on as he saw Arthur’s thoughts wander, “She found a nice man with a waggon. The doctor said he knew you and that you helped him one time in Rhodes.”

That put a little smile on Arthur’s lips, because he remembered the Doctor well. He was talking all funny and had had his waggon stolen. “Yeah”, Arthur answered as a sign of recognition.

Even Charles didn’t know what more to say, so he put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, before he left him alone.

The group had settled down near a creek. You had been on the move for a while now, and food supplies were running low, so they had decided to camp here for a couple of days, until hunting and gathering had provided enough resources to continue the travel. It was then that Arthur left his little nest that had been made for him. A simple waggon really, with some linen span across it to shield him from the weather. Sitting up was exhausting, but he managed to more or less crawl to the opening, sitting there and letting his legs dangle from the waggon. Everyone was working. The horses were grazing, a couple of kids were running around. It wasn’t difficult to spot you, chopping some wood and carrying it to the fire. That’s when you caught Arthur’s eye and approached him.

Seeing him out of “bed” put a big smile on your face.

“Why even bother?”, Arthur asked when you had reached him, jumping up the waggon to sit next to him. “Should’ve shot me when they found me. Tuberculosis can’t be healed, as far as I’ve heard.”

“Tuberculosis? What are you talking about?”, you looked at Arthur curiously. He stared back in silence, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's what I've got", Arthur explained, a little sceptical as if your gaze alone had made him unsure of the diagnosis.

"You don't have tuberculosis. At least, the doctor we consulted said so", a smile played on your lips. A knowledgeable smile, as if you knew more than him. It was a cheeky smile.  

Arthur didn't believe you.

"Y/n, I was on the brink of death when you found me. I cough up more blood than I ever lost through bullets…taking a deep breath was almost impossible.”

"How's it now though? The breathing...", you asked.

Arthur halted and for the first time since he had regained consciousness, he drew in a deep breath. Then another, and another. It was slightly uncomfortable, as though something was constricting his lungs and made it harder for him to let air in, but it didn't hurt. It was only after the fourth big breath that a slight cough stirred from within. But it didn't ripple his airpipe, bringing red fluid onto his lips. It almost tickled. It reminded him of the sensation of pressing upon a spot where a bruise had once been, recently faded. It wouldn’t hurt, but it would tickle, and the skin would be terribly sensitive.

"It's...okay I guess", Arthur concluded.

You smiled, satisfied: "You don't have TB. I mean...maybe you do, but Doctor said if you had, it wouldn't have shown so soon and with such vigour. But he did say you had the worst case of pneumonia he had ever seen. We weren't sure you'd make it. But now that you have pulled through the worse", you shrugged, "I'm afraid you'll have to see my ugly face still."

Arthur didn't know what to say. Was he relieved? Happy, even? He didn't know. He was just speechless.

"Doctor said that in case you recover, you'll have to rest a lot. He knew you, by the way. Black fella with a nice-looking waggon. Weird grinder thing on top. Had to help him fix a wheel when I brought him up here. He said you had helped him some time ago, fighting the people who had stolen his waggon. And then he said you wouldn't be fighting anyone for a while, even when you are back on your feet. You need to rest for months, fresh air,...and especially, seeing that you have lost about half your weight, lots of good food. No smoking, of course."

Arthur’s chuckle rippled through the air as he started to grasp the situation. “That’s quite the relief”, he murmured, chuckled lightly as he finally started to grasp the whole situation: “That’s good news.”

“What? That you look like skin and bones?”, you teased, bumping your shoulder into his.

“No. That I’ll get to see your ugly face for some time longer”, he bumped back, stronger than you had and almost knocking you into the edge of the waggon. You hadn’t been so relieved for a long time. You felt something thick in your throat and tears gathered at the corners of your eyes.

“Missed ya, ya know”, you said quickly before a sob could work its way up.

“I missed ya too”, Arthur looked at you. He noticed the wet eyes and scrunched his nose immediately: “You gone soft while I was out? You crying ‘cause of me?”

The teasing tone alone was so friendly and welcome, it cheered you up even more.

���You ain’t worth crying over, Mr. Morgan”, you lied.

“Damn right I’m not”, he said. He let his eyes roam around the camp again. It felt familiar. The image or Horseshoe Overlook came to him, but this was different, of course. Or was it?

“You hungry?”, you asked.

“Starving. If ya can offer something else but soup”, Arthur quickly added. He only had eaten soup the last days. It was the only meal which didn’t require chewing and wouldn’t immediately choke him in his half-conscious state. This time, you brought him a small portion of stew. Not comparable to the stew Mr. Pearson had cooked. The small pieces of meat that you had granted him in his portion were as soft as they possibly could be, almost melting in his mouth.

“Slow down, god damn it”, you warned him.

“Yes, ma’am”, Arthur quietly mumbled. It was hard to slow down, but he knew he had to, since this was the first time he ate properly in – he later was being told – 13 days.

In the evening, you approached him again. Arthur was lying in his bed, half-recumbent with his journal on his lap. It was closed, Arthur was merely thinking. He had flipped through some entries before, but now he enjoyed being idle and watching everyone getting ready for the night.

“Arthur”, you knocked at the wood before appearing in his field of vision, “got something for you. I almost forgot, I had it stored away.”

You climbed on the waggon and put down a gunnysack. You carefully spilled its contents onto the floor. Arthur recognizes the round glass with the flower first. Then the picture of his mother. The picture of him and Mary. The shot of his father, though big chunks of the little picture were charcoaled and burnt, he only recognized it because he had looked at it so often. Two shirts, one pair of pants and an old belt that he hadn’t used in a while.

“That’s all that was really left, I’m afraid”, you said. He didn’t need to ask, he understood. You had gone back to where they had last camped and had rummaged through what was left after the fire to store it for him.

“Why did you…?”, Arthur started, picking up the picture of his mother.

“I…don’t know. I never had many belongings to my name, but those I had, meant much to me. Figured you feel the same”, you shrugged. Then a cheeky smile appeared on your lips: “Thought it would be nice to bury you with them if you didn’t make it.”

Arthur clicked his tongue. “It was stupid to go there. Might have been dangerous.”

“Felt worth it for me, I guess”, you said.

After a pause, Arthur thanked you. You wished him a good night at let him be. As soon as your frame vanished from the little field of view that the open canvas space granted him, he opened his journal again. He pulled out Mary’s last letter to him. Not reading the neatly written words again, he simply turned the envelope upside down, until the ring fell into his hand.

…

It took two more days before Arthur was strong enough to walk around and be on his feet for more than ten minutes at a time. But he felt fine enough to take a bath in the creek and shave. It was shocking to see his cheeks that have sunken quite a bit due to the weight loss, but Arthur’s appetite was as good as ever, so you didn’t worry about it too much.

Most of the day he spent by sitting in the shade and observing the people. Mostly you, if he was being honest. You played with the kids, helped wherever another hand was needed.

He was trying to get up from his little patch under a tree when Rains Fall approached him. Arthur hadn’t encountered him yet, he had been busy with arranging and managing the move. The last time Arthur had seen him, he had delivered him his dying son.

“How are you, Mr. Morgan?”, Rains Fall’s voice was as gentle as ever.

“Feeling much better now. I can’t thank you enough for taking me in”, Arthur said.

“After all you have done for us, it is I who must thank you”, Rain Falls smiled slightly. Silence ensued between the two men before Rains Fall spoke again, “I recall our conversation when you were my company on the ride up the mountain. You said that some people in your gang still had a chance for a good live and that you wanted to give them that.”

“Yeah”, Arthur said, his eyes fixed on you. You were brushing some horse in the distance.

“What’s with her?”, Rains Fall asked, following Arthur’s gaze, “I heard she took excellent care of you. Charles told me she’s a fierce spirit when cornered, but she seems tame and gentle. I can see that you care for her deeply too.”

“Suppose I do”, Arthur answered, “I’m not sure if that’s what she wants.”

“There are always some uncertainties in life, don’t waste too much thought on those that can be resolved with one simple question”, the chief answered. Arthur nodded, as if he understood, though he wasn’t so sure how much of the situation he had actually grasped. The ring that Arthur had picked out of the letter was in his pocket, and he felt it, when Rains Fall spoke those words. When nothing more was said on that matter, Rains Falls sighed: “Tomorrow, we’ll be on the move again. We haven’t covered much ground yet, but I’m certain we’ll make it.”

It was a statement that needed no comment and Arthur watched as the old man walked away.

-

The group barely covered ten miles a day. It was a good pace, nevertheless, for Arthur was on his feet again and tried to make himself useful. He tended to the horses, seeing they are well cared for and rested for the journey. All this time, you were pretty much at his side non-stop.

“You used to say ya don’t need me to do babysitting…but now yer the one watching me like I’m gonna do something stupid the second you lay your eyes off me”, Arthur teased.

“I don’t trust you to do no heavy lifting”, you said with a smile. It was a good opportunity to be close to him and help.

All of a sudden, you had started sleeping in the same waggon as he. Because the one you had used was “needed otherwise”. You sat next to him at night, watching him draw in his journal and often fell asleep way before him. Arthur was unsure if this was a sign that everything was like before, that you still liked him, but he was glad about the closeness again. The second night, he held you. The third night, you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest.

-

“I’m going to leave”, you said. You sat next to Arthur and watched his pencil strokes. They had been shading the horse he had just sketched. The pencil halted and Arthur looked at you.

“What?”

“Day after tomorrow, I’m leaving. I want to head south again. Then west, maybe”, you looked Arthur in the eye. His blue eyes which were warmly illuminated by the oil lamp in the waggon darted around your face. You weren’t teasing or joking, he could tell as much.

“You know I’m not someone who sticks with a group. If this thing goes bad, I’ll feel like I’m responsible”, you offered further explanation.

“Yer gonna head out there alone?”, Arthur asked, his voice strained.

“Was hoping you’d join me, actually”, you swallowed. You had dragged the question out for a while now. You knew that Arthur needed to be somewhat recovered if he was to travel with you, so you had had a good excuse for not asking for a long while. But the last couple of days the anxiety had been eating you from the inside.

Arthur didn’t answer. He watched you; you watched your own hands. As he remained silent, you unwillingly lifted your head to look at him. This was all that Arthur needed. His hand found your chin and lifted it even more, turning it towards him. In the blink of an eye, your lips met. Arthur tasted the tobacco on your lips and figured he missed smoking. Or at least, he missed sharing a cigarette with you.

“I thought you might not like me no more”, Arthur said as the kiss had ended. Both of your faces remained so close, your foreheads touched, and Arthur only needed to whisper the words to make you understand.

“Well, there’s always been lot of nonsense in your brain”, you grinned. You were relieved, because frankly, you had feared the same.

You kissed him again before asking: “Can I take that as a yes?”

“You better”, Arthur breathed, now snaking his hands around you and pulling you into yet another kiss.

III. The Life After

The parting with the Rains Fall and his people unfolded smoothly. Farewells were exchanged without any pressure of time and in good spirits. Charles and Arthur, in particular, enjoyed a more extended exchange of goodbyes compared to their previous parting. Both could go smiling, knowing that the other one would be fine.

Arthur got a spare horse, a young, not entirely tamed one, though Arthur was more than capable of handling it. Your travels back South progressed fast. It took a toll on Arthur, traveling on horseback after he had only been on his feet for a week, but you took care of that with long breaks and early nights. Sometimes, you’d rest for an entire day, also giving the horses some time to recover. You’d take care of food in a nearby town or go hunting, while Arthur watched the little possessions you travelled with. By the time you reached Ambarino, the leaves on the trees had assumed hues of red and brown and the nights were getting colder.

“Shouldn’t we head West?”, Arthur halted his horse. You had just crossed the Grizzlies and had travelled along the Dakota River for a while, before you stirred your horse East. The air was fresh, and Arthur was wrapped in a coat you had bought in a town before crossing the Grizzlies. The sun was still strong enough that the buttons could remain open, but sometimes a strong gush of wind would send a shiver through your spine and remind you that winter would be here soon.

“We can’t continue traveling”, you said. Arthur was exhausted, and so were you.

“So, what do you suggest?”, Arthur rode next to you, stirring his horse into a slow trod next to yours.

“I know a place where we can lay low for the winter”, you said, not explaining further, even though you felt Arthur’s curious gaze. Only when you arrived at O’Creagh’s Run later that day and headed so decidedly for Hamish Sinclair’s cabin, Arthur understood.

“That’s where you wanna live?”, he asked amusedly.

“Nice man lives there. I’m sure he’ll let us stay with him for a while”, you explained. Arthur smiled, but didn’t want to spoil that he knew the old veteran. Hamish was already outside doing repairs on his little boat when he saw you approach.

“Ain’t that a nice surprise!”, Hamish raised his arms, “A visit by two friends at once!”

Now it was your turn to be surprised: “You know each other?!”

“Of course. Arthur Morgan!”, Hamish shook the hand of Arthur as soon as he had dismounted, “You’ve lost some weight my friend, but you look as fine as ever.”

Over hot coffee, Hamish was filled in on the happenings of the last month. When you asked to stay at his place for a while, Hamish was delighted. Almost immediately, you started to build another bed, because it was agreed upon that Arthur would need something more comfortable to sleep on. You would be fine with the floor in front of the fireplace for now and Hamish would continue to sleep in his bed.

It worked remarkably well. The three of you were rather quiet and when something needed to be done, it was done sooner rather than later. Arthur fished most of the time, you were out hunting with Hamish. Hamish would teach you to cook some meals, because, as he put it “A man that has lived alone for such a long time, knows his cooking spoon”, and you’d run errands in town, if something needed to be fetched. The fall of the Van der Linde Gang was still comparably recent, so the posters were still all about and to risk Arthur being seen, wasn’t a risk anyone was willing to take.

As idyllic as most of the days passed, one would think that there weren’t any struggles or that you spent your days hunting and selling pelts. But you would have never been able to sell enough pelts to support three adults, so sometimes, you’d go out and rob a stage or some rich looking traveller. You told Arthur but kept quiet in front of Hamish.

The days became shorter and the chill of winter settled in, Arthur’s recovery progressed steadily. He started to put on some more weight and longer walks or chopping wood didn’t leave him struggling for air any longer. Hamish would sometimes go out for a whole day, granting the two of you precious moments of solitude and intimacy.

In December, Hamish announced he’d be gone for a few days, visiting a cousin in Valentine. He’d be back for Christmas Day, he promised. Arthur and you considered the possibility that Hamish’ cousin was a fabrication, a ruse to give the two of you some more time alone. Nevertheless, you appreciated the gesture wholeheartedly.

Snow had fallen and the fireplace had been ceaselessly crackling in the past few days. So, the hut remained comfortably warm. In Hamish’ absence, you shared Arthur’s bed. Nestled against his chest, you traced circles through the dark patch of hair just below his navel. The only sounds to be heard were the steady crackling of the fire and the hoot of an owl nestled in a nearby tree.

“Ya mean a lot to me, y/n”, Arthur’s words slipped out so unexpectedly that you sat up and looked at him with surprise and suspicion. You were well aware of his feelings. After all, he had demonstrated as much just half an hour ago, in that very bed.

“Yer talking strange”, you remarked and raised an eyebrow.

“I love you”, Arthur said, his tone carrying an unusual weight.

“And…I love you too”, you replied slowly. This wasn’t the first time you had said that to each other, but the manner in which Arthur said it felt different. Arthur gave you a look that was so full of uncertainty and self-depreciation for himself, you lightly slapped him on his bare shoulder.

“What is going on? Did I do something wrong?”, you asked. You even raised the blanket to check if this was a new sort of foreplay that he was trying because he was ready for the second round. It was also an attempt to lift the mood, because the tension of the situation started to prickle your skin.

“Ain’t nothing wrong. I just gotta ask ya something and it ain’t easy”, Arthur complained. sitting up straight.

“Yes. I’m sorry Arthur, but the Gingerbread you baked yesterday is inedible”, you joked. You and Arthur had tried to make some gingerbread yesterday and because you hadn’t felt like baking, he had taken control of the matter. The result was…lacking, to say the least. You had lied that it looked and tasted alright, but you had been sure that by the disgusted face you had made it was clear that it had to disappear before Hamish came back and threw them out for dishonouring his kitchen.

“That’s not it and…”, Arthur looked at you funny, “It wasn’t that bad.” You smiled at him sympathetically.

“I just…god damn it, woman”, Arthur rearranged his sitting position. The he got up and slipped into his pants and shirt. He was somewhat angry, irritated maybe. Or nervous? You watched him confused.

Arthur was still fastening his pants when his voice, low and hesitant, reached your ears: “I just wanted you to know that I love ya…”

You nodded as if it was silly to suggest otherwise. With Arthur’s warmth now absent from your side, your body was cooling down and you pulled the blanked further up. And then Arthur caught you completely off guard because he knelt down besides the bed. His fingers swiftly plunged into his pockets and retrieved a ring.

“I was wondering if ya might wanna marry me”, Arthur voice was firm. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was in any doubt that he wants to spend the rest of the time with you. He was fully aware that he wasn’t the youngest anymore and that the sickness had marked him significantly. Since recovering, he had gained back most of the weight, yet ther were times when his muscles reminded him of their limitations, failing him when he attempted tasks that were once effortless.

You stared at him in disbelief, a thousand thoughts running through your head. When Arthur opened his mouth again, you were afraid that you had taken too long to answer.

“I thought it was too late for me to marry someone. I’m old. And unlovable, mostly”, Arthur chuckled warmly, “If two people ain’t too big of a group for you…” Arthur added mumbling ‘maybe three or four at some point’ before continuing, “I’d want ya to know that I plan to stick with you. Yer still young, so I understand if yer don’t want to-“

“Yes.”

Arthur shut up at looked at you. Was that a yes to “not wanting to marry”? Arthur looked like a kicked puppy for a moment, before you cleared his confusion: “Yes, I want to marry you, you dumbass.”

The ring slipped on seamlessly. The Arthur picked you up, naked as you were and hugged you lovingly. You squealed because of the cold air.  

“Are we telling Hamish?”

Arthur mumbled the response into the crook of your neck which he was peppering with kisses: “If ya want. That enough of a Christmas present for him?”

You hit Arthur’s back: “Hell no! The man lets us live in his home. I was thinking about getting him a new rifle.”

Arthur set you down and you gathered your clothes, putting them on slowly, as Arthur was taking his time admiring you.

“Put some money back”, you grinned mischievously, “It was also meant for buying you a present. But I suppose that being my husband is good enough.”

“Oh you!”, Arthur growled and scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder. For all the strength he had lost, he was still strong enough to do that. Barefooted, Arthur stamped out of the cabin. “Give me one reason to not throw you into the lake!”, he teased and approached the jetty. It wasn’t frozen yet entirely, but the water was icy cold and black.

“I’m your wife!”

“Not yet you ain’t!”, Arthur made a motion that made you shriek, but he only feinted to throw you in, “besides, that is no valid reason.”

“I’ll kill you, if you do!”, now you tried to break free, but Arthur’s grip was firm.

“Ohh. That’s more like it. Though I think you love me too much for that.”

“Many wives kill their husbands!”, you screamed.

“I could drown ya first, ya know”, Arthur teased and swirled around, so you faced the black water.

“You’ll never find out where I stashed the money and won’t afford a present for Hamish!”, you finally said.

“That’s true”, with that, Arthur let you down. As soon as your bare feet touched the snow, you darted inside, shivering violently in front of the fireplace.

Arthur soon followed, having more of a quieter complexion. He closed the door behind him, and the warm and loving atmosphere of the cabin was restored. In many ways, Arthur saw you as an equal. You were just as good as a shot as he was, just as fast when it came to running or riding. There was no need to escape his old live, because you were an outlaw just like him. You didn’t mind if life meant running away from the law. He didn’t need to tread lightly with you. You could take criticism; a discussion or whatever life threw at you. And yet, he found your movements graceful, gentle. Most of the time, at least. Arthur smiled at the thought. When your opponent was a bigger man and it would come to close ranged fighting, you became sloppy and angry, but with a gun you were the definition of accuracy and grace.

“Hello?”, you looked at Arthur wit tilted head, drawing his attention back from his reverie, “Where have you wandered off to?” His daydreams had lasted so long, he had barely noticed that you had dressed yourself.

“Jus’ dreamin’ about my future wife, ‘s all”, Arthur grinned sheepishly. He extended his arms invitingly, and you moved closer, nestling into his embrace.  

“Don’t start expecting things I’m not capable”, you said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know?! Maybe I want my husband to be capable of baking proper gingerbread for Christmas and then you come along and-“, Arthur interrupted you by poking you into the side and making you squeal.

“You do it better then!”, he challenged.

“I suppose I will!”, you grinned back, heading for the little stove, “I bet mine are at least two times more…edible than your sorry experiment.”

“What are we betting? A kiss, Mrs. Morgan?”, Arthur said slimily, his arms crossed and watching you. The name made you feel warm and happy. For all the times you’d been mistaken as a Bell, you like that name way more. But for old time’s sake, you turned around and looked at the man you love.

“Your life, Morgan!”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @xclovers @photo1030 @cowboydisaster @stilinskiwitch @globetrotter28 @unbotheredbeeeee @eyelovie @ashjbu @lovrgirlsstuff @how-the-heck-would-i-know @j4llyf7sh @urfavjanalein @thatonestrangebird @nirvanaaaonly

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello! This is my first mysme ask so I'm very nervous haha.

I wanted to jump in on the VAE talk, but it has nothing to do with Saeran! What I don't like about the VAE is...the difference in V himself.

I don't think I have a good grasp on his character. It's difficult for someone like me to want to even try to understand him after some of the things he's done! It feels as if the VAE forces us to be in a position of being forgiving and understanding of Rika and her abuse towards Saeran for him to be happy...and that's very strange to me? Because, V, in VAE works to help Saeran while simultaneously you only get the good ending with him if you're explicitly "okay with" what she did to him?

I think either version of Another Story V is a frustrating character to delve into! Its easy to look at him and think "wow he spouts off about caring about his friends and caring about saeran but when it all comes down to it, he only cares about this one person that hurt everyone else he claims to care for"

Ray AE V and VAE V are very hard to adapt to because of this, I think? :/ Character analysis for these types are not my strong suit clearly. I know there's more to V than this, but it's hard to look past his "be okay with forgiving an abuser for me to be happy with you (VAE) or be okay with me going alongside this abuser while guilt tripping you to understand her (Ray AE)" type thing.

I think I at least understand Rika as a character better than him to be quite honest.

Let me preface this by saying that V's After Ending is a mess. It's a hot mess and it does a major disservice to Jihyun Kim in more ways than one. A lot of people really don't believe this because Saeran is my favorite character, but Jihyun is my third favorite character right behind Saeyoung. His After Ending hurts in more ways than one due to what happens in terms of forgiveness and judgement.

The game forces you into a corner and shames you if you decide to judge Rika Kim for her actions. I cannot tell you how triggering the Judgement Ending is, not only for myself, but for many others who played it. I don't suggest anyone play that ending if they don't think they can stomach being told it's "their fault Rika is suffering for them not forgiving Rika."

Nope.

It's not our job or obligation to forgive Rika Kim.

If you choose to forgive her, great, but why are we, as the players, being told that the only way to achieve the Good Ending, because, let's face it, the forgiveness ending is the real GOOD ENDING, is by being told to forgive Rika no matter how you feel about it. Cannot tell you how angry I was when that happened, and I know plenty of other people were just as upset.

When the VAE first came out, I can remember people emailing Cheritz and telling them why telling people they need to forgive another person isn't okay. I can't believe that's something that's gotta be explained. But, we live in a world where people tell us we need to forgive, forget, and get over our pain, no matter how large or small very often, and people don't think about those who don't want to ever forgive the people who hurt them or the people they love.

That's the one thing I love about Saeran's After Ending. The RAE doesn't mince words with anyone about affirmed choice. You get choices in the RAE to decide what you want in terms of forgiveness, and by God, the other characters do, too. You get to decide what you want, Saeran gets to decide what he wants, and the RFA gets to pick what they want, and you know what's great?

NOBODY'S JUDGED FOR CHOOSING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. IT IS THAT EASY.

You are not being forced to forgive Rika in the RAE. I don't know where people get that thought. If anything, you get to tell her the truth of how you feel her for her multiple times, and the only time that the player is "nice" to her is near the end of the RAE where you speak to her to find out where Saeran is, and honestly, you can read into that as "I'm pretending to be nice because I need to find Saeran before he dies" or, if you decide to embrace Rika and forgive her on your own, you can do that and then find Saeran.

But, you're not being forced one way or another to forgive Rika here. But, in Jihyun's After Ending, you are baited into forgiving her to not get the ending that tells you that you're to blame for Rika suffering in the hospital for not forgiving her. That's being kicked for choosing to do what you want, and that's WRONG.

Jihyun himself confesses that he knows he's in the wrong with Rika in the RAE. He's given up on himself, though. He decides he has to keep his promise no matter what. That's the difficult part for most people to swallow.

His mentality is: "I need to save her because of my promise, but I also made a promise to Saeyoung, so I need to keep both of my promises even if that makes my a villain." This is not okay. This isn't healthy. It's not ever going to be okay and he knows it's not okay. He just... wants to be a savior even if it's self-destructive.

I don't like that Jihyun is hardly in his own After Ending. It focuses on judgement and forgiveness of Rika. I would've preferred to spend all my time focusing on Jihyun instead of playing a losing situation with the RFA. We had to face Rika no matter what because she is more or less the main reason why the game exists, but V's After Ending had no business being as focused on her as much as it was.

Because, in moments we do see with V, I enjoy those, because I see him reflecting and growing in as a person, not perfect, nobody's ever going to be perfect, but he was trying, and for someone who stopped trying a long time ago, it's hopeful to know that he's decided to try his hand at life once again without succumbing to self-destruction as we often see him do.

Jihyun Kim is a character that a lot of people have a hard time understanding, so if you feel like you haven't gotten a grasp on who he is as a person, I think that's understandable. Rika Kim is up there, too. I like to understand what brought them to the point they're at in the game, and sometimes, there are people who think that I do that to find excuses for their actions. I don't.

I don't find reasons to explain their actions because I want to excuse them. I want to understand as best as I can why they got to that point in the first place. Understanding someone doesn't mean you excuse their actions. It means you have better insight as to why they do what they do, and even then, understanding why someone got somewhere in life doesn't mean you'll understand their choices. It just means you see their explanation, their excuses, their reasoning, and knowing the in's and out doesn't mean you condone what they did.

It just means you learned who they are and how they feel. I know why Jihyun and Rika react the way they do at times, but I don't agree with it or excuse it. I get angry because I see them walking down a path of torture, hatred, and pain. I see them stand at the precipice of choice, and chose to ignore reality in favor of another route, and I get angry, and disappointed. Because, especially in the case of Jihyun, he was so close to making the right decision in Ray Route, but he decided to turn away from it.

Jihyun Kim regressed from making any personal progress because he saw Saeran and MC do what he and Rika seemingly did not. That is that, it's important to understand that V/Rika and Saeran/MC are narrative foils. If you want to see toxic, unhealthy codependency as it sinks deeper and deeper into a pit, look no further than V and Rika. If you want to see a couple who're trying to be individuals but also value communicating with their partner before they leap, that's Saeran and MC.

V and Rika make choices that feed into the worst parts of each other and they don't stop even when they know they could. Jihyun admits it himself in the RAE. He thinks that he has no choice but to keep his promise he made to Rika, even though he knew it wasn't healthy for him, or Rika, for that matter. Jihyun believes in his heart that he can't abandon Rika even if he wants to, because he hasn't overcome that grief in his heart over his mother's death.

He hurt his mother when he was a teenager, and he never had the chance to make it up to her or apologize. His mother died protecting him. She gave her life to save his. He thinks that love requires a sense of selfless sacrifice no matter what, that he needs to a Savior or even God to make up for his mother's death. He sees beauty in Rika's pain, she's his muse, and she looks upon him like a God for very long time. He relishes in that, because it helps him feel better about his trauma.

Jihyun was everything she wanted to be because she didn't want to be herself. She idolized Jihyun Kim. She was obsessed with him. It's just that her obsession was different than his. She wanted to become him, in every sense of word, so she would no longer have to Rika Kim. It's written in her diary that you can get from the Special Believer box.

Rika and V's love was built on infatuation, obsession, and the hurt two people had from their childhoods that had not yet healed. They helped each other "cope" but the way they "coped", was only further serving as a means to destroy both of them. I think the visual novel on Day 9 does a good job of having V express his clarity on this fact, and Rika's vehement denial of it, though, it's still messy since V isn't out of the thick of it.

This is just the start of his acceptance journey and he stills chooses to protect Rika after she stabs him at the end of this scene. It's not perfect, but... you can see the lightbulb going off.

Rika herself lives in denial within the confines of the game, and she can only face reality there is when the truth about Mother Choi is revealed. I don't know if people really grasp this at first without sitting down and looking at all the details, but Rika killed Mother Choi in self-defense. The scene is shown to us as Rika would've imagined it, and given that Rika thinks of herself as the devil, it's easy to think she did it without a second thought.

That scene plays out as Rika viewing herself as a devilish murderer who killed in cold blood.

But, that moment when she killed Mother Choi was the moment she gave up on trying to ever see herself as anything but the devil. Do you know what the strange thing is? I never once considered over all the years I've played this game that Jihyun was there with her that night, but he was. He confirmed he was there that night.

That means both he and Rika are bonded with the agonizing fact that Mother Choi is dead because of Rika, self defense or not, and they're the ones who likely had to get rid of her body or even tamper with the crime scene to protect the twins. Murder is a heavy act to carry and I know it's easy for us to joke about wishing harm onto others, but to be a person who has taken another person's life is... I cannot begin to imagine what that feels like.

I know some people feel guilt for the rest of their lives, even if the person they hurt was a bad person. Because, a life is a life, and even if you protect yours and the people you loved, you feel shameful for what you've done. My trying to understanding how that effected Rika is in no way condoning the creation of Mint Eye or the abuse of not only Ray and Saeran, but countless others, it's just another piece of the puzzle to understanding why Rika is the way she is.

Because, hey, cool tragic backstory, still murder!

But, knowing how that fact really bleeds into Jihyun's Savior complex gets you a much broader understanding of why he won't leave Rika in most situations even if that's the correct and right choice for not only him, or her, but quite frankly, literally everyone else.

Jihyun wanted to save his mother from death. He couldn't do that. He wanted to save her because she saved him, and he's wandering life with this idea that love is built on selfless sacrifice no matter the circumstance because he thinks that's what love is. Love is throwing your life away to protect the people you care about. Which, that's not what his mother's sacrifice was about. She died protecting him, but... she never would've wanted him to believe that love is about sacrifice.

She died protecting him of her own accord, that's correct, but that doesn't mean Jihyun has to spend the rest of his life trying to prove to himself that his mother's sacrifice was worth it by sacrificing his mind, heart, body, and soul all the time.

That's what he has to learn to heal.

I sometimes think the game isn't as heavy-handed as it could be to help people understand that this is what's going on inside his head, because a lot of this detail work comes from venturing out into every piece of media you can own from this game and really sitting down to put your head into what you're reading. 

It can be hard for people to understand him or to even want to understand because you get frustrated with his choices. After all, they are so self-destructive. Not only are they destructive to him, they end up being harmful to everyone around him, and that's not okay. Watching him is like watching somebody shoot themselves in the foot.

He doesn't always make the best decisions, and as you get to learn more about him, you realize that he knows he can do better but he doesn't do better for himself. I think that's an aspect of his character that makes him very human, but because it makes him so human, it's easy to be upset with him. You know he can do better and you want him to do better. It leads to a sense of disappointment in him.

People like him do exist, to an extreme degree and to a lesser degree, and I can relate to him in many ways which is why I think it's easier for me to empathize and relate to him as a person. But, it's because I do understand him so intimately that I get angry with him. I get so angry because I know he can do better than what he's doing, and it places a mirror in front of me when I make poor decisions.

As frustrating as he can be at times, he's helped me a lot as a person, and in some regard, I want to help people understand what he's like beyond being upset with him if anyone ever wants to learn about him in any way.

Understanding him will never mean I condone his choices. I can't believe I have to say this so many times, but if I don't reiterate this simple fact, people seem to misconstrue what I'm saying. I like to understand and learn why people do the things they do, but I am right there with everyone else here who is judging and holding them accountable for their actions. I want to have some answers, and even if having those answers doesn't explain anything, I feel better being able to have them.

You know how Saeran feels a little better once he's able to talk to his abusers? He needed to be able to hear what brought them to the point they are standing at today. He needed to know why they were the way they were so that he could learn how to forgive himself. He copied Rika, his Mother, and Saejoong specifically to make himself feel powerful in Mint Eye because that's what he was told to do, he invoked their words and actions against innocent people, believers and even the MC.

He feels better confronting them and having an explanation from their lips even if it's not an answer that explains why people would be needlessly cruel to an innocent person. He's not looking for excuses, he's not looking for them to give him some tragic backstory that makes everything okay, he's looking into their eyes and choosing kindness when they themselves never choose kindness towards him.

He is facing them so that he can face himself. 

Forgiving them is about learning how to forgive himself. It's not about making them feel better, and it's certainly not about letting them into his life. He has those conversations with them as a parting gesture. He's never going to meet with them ever again, but that was how he decided he would find peace for himself.

Would you do the same if you were in his shoes? I don't think I would, I don't think I can ever forgive the people who hurt me, no, I know I'll never forgive them, but Saeran chose what felt right for him and I will not fault him for that.

I will never shame him for choosing what felt right for his healing journey. He forgave them so he could forgive himself and I'm glad that he had the opportunity to make that choice and not a damn person told him not to do what felt right for him. I don't forgive Rika, and I don't forgive V for what happened in the RAE, but, I'm glad to know Saeran got his peace and that he won't judge me for what I feel.

Sometimes, you want an explanation, even if it only proves that those people don't have remorse for what they did. At least, for some folks, having that proof can he helpful. It helps you feel like walking away is the right choice for you and you did what felt right. If you don't want an explanation, if you don't want to hear it, don't seek one.

Walk away and find peace another way.

It's your life, choose what feels right for you and find peace your way.

Wow, I went off a little here, but... I think it's important to note that these characters are complex and it's easy to take away one thing about them when there is so much going on... especially with Jihyun who hasn't always been favored by company and ends up getting the short end of the stick even in his own route. He and Rika can be very frustrating for most players because nobody wants to deal with their back and forth.

I hope this helped give you a little more insight on him. It's always fun to talk about him, contrary to popular belief. Thank you for your question! I hope you feel comfortable asking more!

[intoanotherworld23]

Deep Water III

Characters: Will Miller, Ben Miller, Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia and female reader

Warnings: Impure thoughts, swear words, mention of killings and murder, lots of drinking, shooting

Summary: The Frontier men have to take you to one of their clubs, and that’s a perfect excuse to get drunk

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! If you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know so I can add you! Thank you all so much! XOXO

Part 2 Part 4

Check out my other works on Hall Of Hunks

It was incredibly weird sitting in a room with a bunch of mobsters, and yet somehow they looked like normal everyday citizens you'd see walking along the street. They just didn't match the profiles of killers or thugs. You were pretty sure you'd hear all their stories though.

"How long am I going to be here?" They probably didn't know the answer to that anyway but you'd figure you would try and ask.

"Depends on when Will wants to let you go." You didn't like the way Benny said that though it wasn't reassuring that he would even let you go.

"Is he gonna kill me?" Whispering this time as you fiddled with your hands in your lap afraid for the answer.

"He won't kill you." Benny said as he gave you a warm smile. "We can promise you that."

"What if he gets really mad and can't control himself?" You threw on their face as they looked at each other.

"He's not going to kill you babe." Bennys voice a little more stern this time.

"Unless you give him reason to kill you he won't." Frankie leaned forward elbows on his knees hands clasped in front of him.

Not liking the way that he said that at all. What reason would you have to give him to justify him killing you? Surely he wouldn't kill you for simply trying to escape. Everyone who is held against their will or kidnapped tries to escape. That would be a ridiculous reason to end your life.

Then you remembered he mentioned your father and said your last name was keeping you alive. Wondering how he knew your father and why that was so important. You weren't going to stop asking until you got a legit answer.

"He said my last name was keeping me alive." Throwing those words back at them crossing your arms over your chest. "What did he mean by that?"

"We can't tell you that darlin." Benny shrugged his shoulders a sympathetic look on his face. "That's Will's department and should be the one to explain."

"That's bull shit." Raising your voice a little frustrated beyond belief that nobody was telling you anything. "I just don't understand why you guys can't tell me anything."

"Don't worry he'll tell you." Santi responded with a nod. "When the time is right."

Why does the time need to be right? That was such a bull shit answer and reason as to why nobody could tell you, and why it specifically had to be Will. Maybe he knew your father in some way, and something happened between them.

Gasping internally at the thought of Will or his men having to do something with your family's death. If that was the case you'd be more than happy to put a bullet in each of their brains. Then again if they wanted the family dead they would have killed you too.

"So you guys kill people?" Asking no one in particular Santi and Frankie looked at each other for a moment.

"Only if we have to." Benny answered for them making you glance over at him.

"Just like that guy in the alley?" They could sense the cynical tone in your voice making them grin that you weren't as afraid of them as they'd like.

"He knew what the consequences were for dealing with us." Santi responded anyway turning your attention to him.

"So he owed you guys money." You leaned back in the chair trying to figure out the reason they killed him. "And because he didn't have it you guys killed him?"

"Yes." This time Santi looked a little ashamed answering your question.

"Technically Ironhead killed him." Frankie spoke up in defense the corner of your lip twitching. "Just sayin."

Maybe it was just you but Frankie didn't seem like the type of guy to be involved in something like this. He seemed more like the type of guy to be afraid of guys like them. Although you shouldn't judge a book by its cover cause he probably has killed more people than what you'd expect.

"How did Ironhead or whatever become the head guy?" Asking as you looked between the three of them.

"That's a story for another time." Wills voice rang as he descended down the stairs your heads turning to him. "We have to go."

"Where?" Frankie asked as he stood up adjusting his shirt.

"To the club." Grabbing a gun and placing into a holder that was strapped to his hip gulping as you watched him. "Apparently someone doesn't want to cough up what they owe us."

"Is it that Russian guy?" Benny already knew who he was talking about.

"Yeah security spotted him betting money at the poker table." He scoffed loudly as he looked at his phone. "Even though he told me last week he didn't have the money yet."

"Little fucker." It surprised you to hear Frankie talking like that since he'd been so nice to you.

Which probably meant it was just another man whose life they were going to take. It made your skin crawl at the thought of hearing another man beg for his life only to have it ripped from him. Those men they killed most likely had families to go home to. Wives and children that missed them wondering what happened to them.

If you could have avoided being caught you would have ran so quickly your legs would be on fire, and you wouldn't be in this situation. Hearing them justify what they did to other people made you sick to your stomach. This wasn't how normal people should live their lives, and citizens shouldn't live in fear cause of them.

"What about her?" Benny asked pointing at you.

"She comes with us." He said like it was no big deal but your eyes went wide in shock.

"What?" Exclaiming as you stood up looking straight at him but he was refusing to meet your eyes. "Your kidding me right?"

"Will we can't take her with us man." Santi tried to reason with him.

"Yeah that's not something for her to have to watch." Frankie defended his suggestion actually making you feel better they thought about your well being.

"Yeah I'm not going." You stated but nobody was really paying attention to you.

"She's going with us and that's final." Will argued his cheeks turning red making them back up a little.

"You guys can tie me up, lock me in a room whatever." This time they all looked over at you. "But I'm not going with you."

Standing firm putting your foot down in defiance, but Will looked like he wasn't in the mood. Looking over at you finally before stomping his way over to you making you cower back a little from him.

Grabbing your arm roughly in his hand pulling you toward him making you whimper. The rest of the guys stood back not even daring to tell him what to do, but they still felt bad. The feeling of his calloused hands rubbing against your skin was burning.

"I don't have time for your pathetic whiny bitching right now." He sneered at you the veins in his neck popped out. "You are fucking going with us and that's final."

The two of you staring into each other's eyes silently daring you to say something else to piss him off. Raising an eyebrow at you and you lowered your head a little but still kept your eyes locked on his. His lips quirked up into a smirk knowing he won this battle.

It was too soon to be challenging his authority. He seemed like the type of man who didn't like to be tested, and if someone tried to outrank him it would end in blood. You needed to be smart about things, and stay alive as long as you could.

"Well what the hell am I supposed to wear?" Looking down at your clothes feeling these weren't club appropriate. "I'm not going to the club looking like this."

"She does have a point man." Santi agreed with him making you smile. "Our club has a strict dress code."

"She's going to be with us." He growled not liking his men to be agreeing with you so easily.

"Yeah she can't wear jeans to a hot nightclub." Benny stepped in as his eyes looked your body up and down giving you a wink.

"Fine." Throwing his hands up in defeat. "We have spare clothes upstairs."

"Yeah I'm not wearing clothes that your sluts left over." You argued making them all laugh leaving you confused.

"Either you wear the sluts clothes," Will spoke as he stepped closer to you, "or wear nothing at all."

"I wouldn't mind the latter though."

Your mouth about dropped to the floor with his challenging words. Surely he wouldn't make you go to a club with no clothes on they weren't complete animals. Judging by the look on his face though he wasn't playing.

Benny and Santi seemed to also like that idea as they chuckled. A part of you wanted to say wear nothing at all just to see their reaction, but you were afraid that he was dead serious on making you go naked.

"Asshole." Grumbling under your breath as this time he smiled in your defeat.

"Fish show her where the clothes are." Will ordered him as Frankie walked up to you and placed a soft hand on your lower back leading you upstairs.

As he led you to a room you saw a bed and dresser, and that was it. It looked like someone had lived in this room, but there was literally nothing in here. Frankie could see the confused look on your face.

"There are no sluts clothing here." He teased as you just rolled your eyes at him. "By the way."

"This was Yovanna's room." Frankie informed you raising an eyebrow at him wondering who she was. "She's in the hospital in a coma."

"We took all her stuff down so we didn't have to look at it." Frankie looking down at his feet noticing his eyes started to water knowing she must have meant something to him. "We left her clothes though."

"Just in case." He nudged your shoulder with a smile this time causing you to smile back at him.

"What happened to her?" Asking him hoping you weren't going to upset him in any way.

"She was shot a couple times and she just never woke up." Turning to look away from Frankie as you pictured what this woman's room probably looked like.

She was probably a very tough woman to be living with four other men, and she was also most like ridiculously gorgeous too. Or was clinically insane and hated herself so much to the point she would live this life.

Either way it seemed like her story was something he didn't want to discuss. Which most likely means none of the other guys would want to talk about it either.

"Come on let's find you something." Nodding towards the closet opening it to see it was full of all kinds of clothing. "Pretty sure you guys are the same size."

"What about this?" He held up a crop top and matching black leather skirt as you looked at him raising an eyebrow.

"Uh yeah I don't think so." Tossing that to the side he started to rummage through some more things before he settled on a black dress.

"This would look amazing on you." It was plain black with spaghetti straps and it looked really cute.

"Okay fine I'll wear that." Grabbing it from his hands as you placed it on the bed going to take your shirt off when you noticed him standing there still. "Do you mind?"

"Gotta stay here with you so you don't escape." Shrugging his shoulders with an apologetic look on his face. "I'll turn around."

Which he did keeping his back fully towards you as you quickly stripped off your other clothes, and slipped on the black dress. It was snug against your hips, and the ends of the dress went down to about your mid thigh.

The push up bra you were wearing had your cleavage nearly spilling out of the neck line. This dress felt like it was made for you, and you looked incredibly hot in it. You were wearing black boots which wouldn't have been your first choice, but it still fit with the outfit.

"Holy shit." Scratching the back of his neck as he looked your body up head to toe his whole face turning red. "You look amazing."

"Thanks." Wiping your hands down the side of the dress as you gave him a weak smile.

"Alright let's go."

Walking down the steps all three heads looked up to see you standing at the bottom of the steps like you were some kind of mythical creature. Santi had his mouth partially open in shock, while Benny licked his lips like you were something sweet. Then there was Will.

Clenching his hands into fists by his side as he tried to control his breathing. If the other guys were there he would have grabbed you so quickly and bent your over the railing. You were the best damn looking woman he has ever seen, and that dress made you look mysterious and seductive.

"God damn you look scrumptious." Benny groaned as he placed a fist up to his mouth.

"You're wearing that dress all the time." Santi agreeing with Benny as they began acting like horny teenage boys.

Looking down at your feet as all the men continued to drool over you. Frankie awkwardly coughed to snap them out of their day dreaming of what you probably looked like under neath those clothes. Looking back at him mouthing a quick thank you to him.

It made you feel good about yourself for a split second, but then you remembered where you were, and what kind of people you were surrounded by.

"Fuck let's go." Will groaned as he grabbed the keys and one by one you all headed out the door.

Will was struggling to control his hormones, and could feel himself getting hard picturing you in that dress. If the other men weren't here he'd already have you pinned against the wall with your dress bunched up around your hips, and his fingers touching you.

Shaking those vivid images from his mind of what you would look like underneath him moaning his name. He was never the type of guy to let a woman make him feel things. The other guys were most likely thinking that too.

As you piled into the car you were smushed between Benny and Frankie. Santi took his place in the drivers seat and once again Will took his seat in the passenger. You were going to have to figure out why he did that. It seemed weird he didn't want to drive.

For the first time since last night you were feeling good about yourself. You kind of felt powerful with how you made the boys act with how you dressed. Dress like that more often and you could probably walk away without a scratch. Although you were pretty positive you'd have better chance just trying to escape.

"Let's move." Will ordered as the rest of you got out to see a huge line waiting outside the club waiting to get in.

Looking at the club that had green and black lights shining down, and a neon sign that said Venom. There was multiple security guards standing outside, and once they saw your group they all stepped aside letting them by greeting each other with nods.

Guess the one good thing about being around them was getting into clubs without having to pay or wait outside with everyone else. Nobody dared to even groan either as they were let him probably knowing exactly who they were. Getting glares from the other women who looked at you with jealousy.

Walking through the doors there was strobe lights flickering all around the club. The dance floor was packed with sweating bodies, and the bar lined up with pretty woman chatting up desperate men. On another side it looked like there was gambling tables, and VIP booths. Assuming that was where they man they were looking for is.

You could feel a hand wrap around your waist looking from your side view to see that it was Will. The hand that was now applying pressure to your skin was starting to tingle. He didn't seem phased at all meanwhile you were panting and sweating by just a single touch.

"You want anything to drink?" Placing his lips almost on your ear as you all sat in a huge booth gated off from everybody else.

"Uh yeah I'll take whatever." Shouting over the music making him chuckle.

He motioned to a woman who was clearly the bottle service saying something to her as she nodded with a grin. Next thing you knew watched multiple women came heading towards the table wearing lingerie with a liquor bottle in each hand. The middle of the table had glasses, and buckets of ice along with stuff to mix in your drink if you needed it.

This was going to be your excuse to get hammered and try to forget everything that happened over the last twenty four hours. Maybe if they got drunk enough they'd forget about you, and you could walk out of here.

"Let me know if you see him." Will informed the guys who put on their laser focus.

Sitting there awkwardly as the rest of the men talked to each other looking towards the dance floor. Will's main focus was to spot the man they were looking for. Chugging back your drink as you began to make another one.

The burn felt good going down your throat. It was already taking its affect as you could feel yourself starting to loosen up. Bobbing your head along to the beat, and swaying your body back and forth catching the attention of Will.

"Found him." You heard him shout over to Benny who nodded placing his drink down.

"Pope come with us." Bradley ordered as he stood up. "Fish stay with her don't let her out of your sight."

"What if I have to pee?" If it wasn't for the alcohol in your system you wouldn't have said that, but it amused everyone but Will.

"Guess you'll have to ruin that dress then." He had an answer for everything huffing as he turned around leaving the booth.

Frankie nodded as he scooted closer to you watching the three men disappear walking towards the mini casino area. Frankie already knew what was about to probably go down, meanwhile you had a very vague idea what was about to happen.

"You might want to slow down." He suggested as he watched you pouring yourself another glass of straight liquor. "We have all night."

"I don't care I need this." Shaking your glass back and forth as you tossed it back with no problem this time.

"The hangover won't be worth it." He was trying to reason with you but you didn't want to hear it.

"Whatever." None of them had a right to tell you how you should feel or react to things.

"You'll still be with us tomorrow." This time he was being realistic and wanted you to realize there was no getting out of this no matter what you did or said.

"You think I don't know that." Snapping at him feeling your blood boiling. "Why the fuck do you think I'm trying to get drunk?"

"Alright okay you've made your point." Putting his hands up in surrender not wanting to make you anymore angry.

You really didn't want to yell at Frankie like that, but with all these emotions you were feeling you couldn't help it. One minute they could be doing everything to keep you alive, and the next then having you dig your own grave while they shoot you in the head.

There was no way you'd still be here with them if your father was alive. He'd have them all arrested or shot the minute they put their hands on you. Wishing now that he was still alive so you could be back in the comfort of your own house and bed.

"He's not all bad you know." You didn't need to hear a name to know who he was talking about.

"You have to say that he's your boss." Shaking your head at him not in the mood to hear his excuses for him.

"Actually I'm saying that cause he's not just my boss but my friend." Looking over at Frankie this time with a defiant look on your face.

"Could have fooled me." Cocking your head to the side as you poured yourself another shot.

"He really isn't." Scoffing at him as you looked over to the gambling tables unable to see them. "Once you get to know him at least."

"I don't want to get to know him." Before Frankie could say anything shots rang out in the club making everyone scream.

Rough hands grabbing you as he pulled you into him and shielding you from any bullets. Your body was frozen and you felt the full weight of terror strike your body. Trying not to cry as the possibility of death floated in your mind.

You've been around guns before and heard them go off, but it was never in a public place where you knew dangerous men were. In that moment all you wanted was your family, and to hold them and have them tell you everything was going to be alright.

Wondering who was firing and who was hit? Watching as the patrons scattered like little bugs that felt danger, and didn't want to be in the cross hairs of whoever was firing.

"Fucking get her." Was all you heard before someone else grabbed you.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129

Tag list series: @casa-boiardi @luciferiorbxtch @ladyelissarose

[thislovintime]

During the filming of 33 ⅓ Revolutions Per Monkee, November 1968.

Peter leaving The Monkees, post 3 of 3.

“I just basically think that I wasn’t feeling a part of it anymore already by that point, I’d already felt like I was odd man out, and of course I quit almost immediately thereafter.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, 1989

“I’d always had deep doubts, ever since the session for ‘Last Train To Clarksville.’ I walked in there with my guitar and Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart looked at me with derision and scorn, like, ‘Guitar in your hand, you fool!’ That was the end of it for me. Right there I was done with The Monkees in large measure. I struggled against it with some success at one point. But after Headquarters nobody wanted to be a recording group anymore. I did what I could, but I didn’t feel like there was any reason for me to be there anymore. I wanted to be in a rock group.” - Peter Tork, Head 1994 liner notes

“While we were making the TV Special, knowing I was not going to be there any longer, I just thought to myself — I don’t have to worry about this thing — and I just let everything slide off my back.” - Peter Tork, NME, January 25, 1969

“We never thought of replacing him — there’s only one Peter Tork in the world.” - Michael Nesmith, Melody Maker, March 1, 1969

Q: “So, when you left, did you want to be known as the former Monkee or did you want to erase that part of your past —” Peter Tork: “I tried to erase it.” Q: “— and start anew.” PT: “I tried to erase it completely.” Q: “How do you do that?” PT: “Well, you just don’t do anything connected with it, just absolutely refuse to have anything to do with it.” - NPR, June 1983 (x)

“Headquarters was by far the best album in the sense that it was us. It was honest, it was pure, and we had a great time. Peter says that the reason he quit was because after we did this album, we decided we weren’t going to be a group anymore. It broke his heart, because Headquarters was the whole reason why he’d become one of The Monkees.” - Micky Dolenz, Headquarters 1995 liner notes

“[Micky] did a great job [drumming] on Headquarters. [But] he wasn’t going to do it again, and there was nothing you could do [to change his mind]. We had to go back in the studio. He said, ‘Peter, you can’t go back.’ Eddie Hoh did the drumming [on Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., save for ‘Cuddly Toy’]. Chip [Douglas] got him ‘cause he could read [music]. The result is that you get directed stuff, there’s no group interaction, which is why I wanted the group to be on the album in the first place. You listen to Beatle albums and one of the things that makes them great is that they have found ways to use who they have to get what they want without asking anyone to do what they couldn’t do. That’s what makes group music happen. That’s all I ever hoped for, and I had it for like a minute on Headquarters.” - Peter Tork, Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones Ltd. 2007 liner notes

“[Peter] admits he harbored a lot of bitterness for many years. The main bone of contention was the TV show’s producers insistence that the band members not play their own instruments. [...] ‘I was devastated at first. I originally approached The Monkees in terms of my own desire to be part of a genuine pop-rock music group. I felt like it was a professional slight to me. Like I was being excluded.’” - The Bellingham Herald, August 5, 1996

“Peter wasn’t satisfied musically [with The Monkees]. He’d been led to believe he could express himself musically. He was frustrated.” - Davy Jones, News-Press, May 14, 1977

“‘I was mostly interested in the Monkees as a musical entity,’ Thorkelson commented. ‘We didn’t fully realize that potential, and I felt ripped off.’” - The Bowling Green News Revue, May 24, 1979 (x)

“We’re all sorry to lose Peter but it was all very friendly and I personally can understand what is going through his mind, He’s a clever guy, you know, and he gets kinda restless sometimes. You should see the books he plows through… real deep stuff with words about a mile long.” - Davy Jones, Monkees Monthly, February 1969

“Peter and I were the bulk of the playing ability because we were musicians. But when Peter left it rather unnerved Davy and [Micky] — and I changed my mind [about quitting]. After all, the personal appearances were pretty well satisfying, the music was fun, and the whole thing was fairly lucrative. And Davy and [Micky] left alone would have been in real trouble.” - Michael Nesmith, Disc & Music Echo, September 19, 1970

“If the truth be known, the day Peter quit was probably the happiest day of Mike’s life. They’d never really gotten along, right from day one. Mike had always perceived of Peter as untenable, and they’d always been adversarial, if not outright combative. Finally he was out of the way. Now Mike could get on with doing what he had always wanted to do, make the Monkees his group. And I was happy to go along. I respected Mike and his music and was quite prepared to go along for the ride. [...] I saw Peter’s abdication as a minor setback at most. Basically, I think the three of us really thought that would be able to go on, just as we had before, and nobody would even notice there were only three people on stage instead of four — after all Peter didn’t sing on many of the songs anyway. How naive. […] I suppose it depends on whom you talk to, but as far as I’m concerned, the day Peter quit was the day the music died (apologies to Don McLean).” - Micky Dolenz, I’m A Believer: My Life of Monkees, Music, And Madness (1993)

[tb3ih]

A GRIEVING HEART (pt. 3), kamisator ayato/reader.

SYNOPSIS... so it would seem there's a bit of eternity left in us all OR KAMISATO AYATO could never begin to understand the change that is love.

⋆ warnings, kamisato ayato & fem-presenting!reader, gentle angst, hehe in-laws, THE CHILD (sora), introduction of reader's family, + comfort for once :) [making a part 4 bc i want a better happy ending tbh]

⋆ notes, thinking about how i was just sobbing my eyes out to 'nobody gets me' by sza for no reason

⋆ tags! @stellakito @iiyumii @neverlandlostchild @hotgirlshit5 @jureminha @yunniemai1 @iamnotobsessed @irisxiel @lumpywolf @mrs-heelshire @kunikuzushisbeloved @pineapplesneedrights @kiyoomiwo @hyunromi @simplyhumanlol @esthelily @chiisananingen @xxevil-pleasurexx @eclevx @jcrml @xiaosonlybeloved @lightoftheamethyst

"WHAT is the meaning of this?!" of the elders slams the paper in his hand down hard on the table, expression incredulous, as if you had asked to give up the entirety of the clan's assets (which you weren't). "this is... preposterous!"

you remain calm sipping your milk tea, not allowing your expression of indifference to waver once. if your mother had taught you anything about being a matriarch, it was that remaining calm out of spite left you on the higher end of the negotiation.

you meet the eyes of every elder in the room, most have begun to break out in protests but one, in particular, remains calm and amused. her violet irises are unmistakable behind her cloak disguise and her interest moves you to continue. "are you all finished?"

this causes a sudden silence to settle over the room, all the attention now brought back to you. "you all seem to have forgotten who the matriarch of this clan is," you begin, eyes narrowed at the highest sitting elder in particular. "perhaps the years i took to raise my daughter in another estate gave you all the opportunity to think that even for one second this clan was yours to do what you pleased?"

"who was it that forged the non-aggression agreement with the tenryou commission? hm? who saved the clan from an investigation by the kanjou commission because some elders seemed to confuse business expenses with fraud?" you take a deep breath, voice still calm. "who spent years suffering through a loveless marriage simply to redeem the image of our entire clan and remain in the favor of the almighty shogun?"

your eyes tear across the elders' expressions, taking in the varying complexions of nervousness and frustration. "if any of you think for even a moment to question my claim to the hayashi clan, then i extend you all the invitation to make your case..." your eyes settle on the head elder. "or keep your mouths shut."

slow clapping emerges from the back of the room, the cloaked figure coming to stand and making her way to the front of the room. there's satisfaction in her eyes when she meets yours. "ara ara, it would seem you have truly grown up, little heiress," she muses. upon recognition, everyone bows their head in greeting.

"t-the elders of the hayashi clan greet the raiden shogun, almighty ruler of the city of eternity." no one dares to raise their head early.

raiden ei waves her hand in dismissal, putting everyone around the room at ease from their greetings. you bow your head, greeting your old teacher. "ei-sensei."

"what is this about marriage troubles i hear?" she turns to examine the expressions of the rest of the elders. "i may not have personal experience in the matter, but i'm sure it's old law to 'do unto him what any man has done you wrong', no?"

nobody in the room offers their thoughts, none looking to speak up before their great ruler. "hm? you all were so enthusiastic earlier to argue authority, why do you all hold your tongues now?"

the first elder speaks up. "i-it's not that we were... questioning authority, your excellence, j-just that perhaps we shouldn't jump to the most extreme of measures... as divorce is..."

"extreme? unfavorable? unadvantageous?" raiden ei hums amusedly to herself, turning to face you, her violet irises sparkling with intelligence. "i would say agreeing to an arranged marriage simply to satiate the greed of clan elders is a little extreme, no?"

you smile at that. "i concur."

the shogun turns to face the rest of the elders in the room. "you all may be the elders of the clan but i don't believe it to be very wise to question the judgement of the hayashi heiress, after all, i'm sure you all enjoy your own personal luxuries which would not have been possible if not for the sacrifice of your beloved matriarch."

looking at the room full of elders, you supposed it didn't hurt to come back home after all these years.

"if loss has taught me one thing," ei begins, coming to stand next to you at the balcony overlooking the sea. "it is that a grieving heart is the most unwelcoming of change."

the wind blows quietly as the sun begins to settle on the city, soft indigo and violet beginning to waltz into the skies. you suppose it's around the evening hour when sora will be returning home from her tutor lessons. "is grief something the raiden ei is familiar with?"

her smile is faint, but she hums lightly. "more than i wish to be." you remember hearing about her sister makoto, and how the loss brought her to retire to the plane of euthymia. "i may not be able to fight your battles, but i wish you eternal courage. she touches your arm lightly and small purple arcs of electro appear to gather where your skin meets hers.

your vision hums where it rests above the plane of your breasts, responsive to its giver. you bow, "the matriarch of the hayashi clan bids farewell to the almighty shogun."

and then you're watching as a pair of guards escort her from the estate, the evening breeze beginning to embrace you.

your mother used to lull you to sleep with stories of her younger days, the adventures, and the thrill. you remember how fixated you were on the tales of father courting her, all the gifts, dramatic proposals, and gloriously embarrassing serenades. the thought of your mother's many rejections has you chuckling to yourself as you watch the sky shift in rosy hues.

"oh, the things love will bring you to do..." she'd say wistfully, kissing you on your temple before bidding you goodnight.

and every night, your father would be waiting by the door, ready to welcome your mother into his arms as they waltzed to retire to their own bedroom for the night, nothing short of enamor in their eyes.

the wind tickles your eyes when you cry and you allow your posture to fold in on itself, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

and you weep.

because maybe you wished to be loved a little too.

part 1 ! | part 2 ! | part 4 ! | part 5 ! (still in progress)

© tb3ih mmxxiii all rights reserved.

[maytheleiabewyou]

Analysis of the German gay film #freierfall / #freefall PART 4

For the 10th anniversary (omg! 10 years already!) (11 now because its 2024!) of one of my favorite movies I decided to make an analysis of the film and especially of the scenes between these two great actors.Max Riemelt and Hanno Koffler. Kay and Marc. Marc and Kay. I hope you like it and that above all it serves to encourage the creators to give us that long awaited second part.

HERE IT IS PART 4:

I'm baaaack! Sorry for the delay <3 I would have liked to upload this fourth part as a christmas present but well now you could say it's a late valentine's day present hehe

Remember where we left it? :)

I promised myself I was going to only talk about these two ignoring all the plot with Marc's wife pregnancy but I think its necessary to mention it. This wonderful kiss in the woods happened MEANWHILE! (although here Kay did not know it yet!) After this scene there are a couple more that do not involve these two = boring. haha Scenes that Marc tries to convince himself how good is his life and how lucky he is. #whoareyoutryingtofool

After training at the police academy comes the action! And of couuuuurse Kay had to go to the same unit as Marc. Fact that Marc did not seem to like it at all.

+What are you doing here? (Marc) -I'm glad to see you too (Kay)

The first time I saw the movie I thought Marc was going to kiss Kay furiously. The next few times I watched this scene I felt sorry for Marc and how he deals with his frustrations with violence and is not able to face these new feelings in a normal way. But now, I see this scene and I really feel sorry for Kay. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that and even less for saying what we all think (that Marc is quite happy to see him again). It is true that for Marc this meeting is the last thing he needed. But just because he is afraid.

Time for Kay to find out he will be an uncle? hahah

oKAY its true that Kay's expression is everything in this scene but look at Marc! He is saying so much without talking! He is between shy, serious (not smiling at all even though Bettina is happy talking about baby) and kind of afraid that Kay found out? Look how for a moment he looks away and immediately looks at the ground as if avoiding Kay.

The dialogues here are key to understand everything. First of all neither Kay or Marc greets each other (where are your manners guysss)

-scary huh? (Says Bettina due to Kay's facial expression)

And then nobody talks about it anymore. Kay and Marc can't say anything else. They just glance at each other but inside a whole of emotions are going on.

Blessed the existence of men's bathroom that allows the two of them to be alone for a moment!

Kay is spechless. He speechless? I know. So Marc looks at him and says:

+yes, that's how things are (as Kay cared about that HAHAH)

Fun fact: after this scene they go home and Bettina asks Marc about Kay. And while Marc can only say bad things about Kay, Bettina is like "he seemed nice to me" hahaha

Now comes the moment we all were waiting for! Pure authenticity

After Marc again being violent with Kay in an exercise, Kay approaches him gently and just is honest with Marc:

AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY GO JOGGING, RIGHT?

I know you will hate me right now but Im ending this part here haha! So the wait for the next part will be more than worthy!!!

ps: Thanks for all the feedback from the previous publications and to the owners of the gifs I used. Also, here you have the previous parts in case you missed them <3

[bushkit]

Soooooo for this MiD rewrite, I might have replaced Ava-

Now I have my reasons for doing so, which I will explain now. First off, I don't like Ava, I find her really obnoxious and frustrating. I know we will only have one season so she can’t develop, and that upsets me a bit. I also find her “anxiety” issues stereotypical, coming from someone who has been diagnosed. Some of her behaviors are relatable, but there's only a few times that I feel like I can relate to her. It feels cheap and forced to me. This is a smaller complaint, but I also don't like her design. She’s just Aphmau but with magenta eyes and a bitchy personality.

The second reason I changed the Mc is because of a massive issue I have with MiD in general. Harems. I fucking despise harems in any shape or form. I think they are one of the absolute worst tropes in media. In most harems the main character is boring, usually they have no personality whatsoever. Luckily MiD doesn't really have this problem, Ava’s personality makes it at least watchable. However, the other much more glaring issue I have with harems are the other characters. They are almost always one dimensional and cliche, and unfortunately MiD does have this problem, especially with the daemos and some other side characters as well (ex: Jake, Lorelai’s friends, Avas parents). I find Harems unhealthy and boring, as it almost always ends with the Mc choosing all potential lovers, or none of them. Its just extremely frustrating to watch. For this rewrite, I need to change the harem into something else, and the best way I can find doing it is to replace Ava. Now I am a huge, huge fan of the “found family” trope, it is far more meaningful and interesting to me. Of course as with all things it can be done badly but I find myself enjoying most shows that use it.

So lets talk about Jaiden! :D

Name: Jaiden Woods Species: Human Pronouns: She/her

Theme song: I made an entire playlist cause I couldn't pick, but I'd say World’s Smallest Violin (Ajr) and Could’ve Been Me (The Struts) are perfect for Season One.

Background: Jaiden is a thirteen year old human girl from a wealthy family in Portland, Oregon. She was originally born in San Francisco, California, but when she was very young her family moved to Portland. Because her parents are wealthy/of nobility, she's used to having a lot of things, knowing a lot of people, and sadly, knowing what its like to be lonely. Her parents run a business, so they don't make much time for her and are often out of the house. So at a young age, Jaiden had to learn how to take care of herself. In what would be season one of this rewrite, her parents have left on a business trip that will last a couple months. So Jaiden needs to find ways to entertain herself and keep her spirits high. But with no siblings and hardly any true friends, its getting more and more difficult.

Jaiden doesn't understand why its so hard for her to make connections with people. She likes to think she's the nicest person ever, she's optimistic, energetic, willing to try new things, and always willing to help others. But the people she's surrounded with aren't normal people who have emotions like she does. They're all grown adults that are all wealthy and stupidly snobby and boring. The school she attends isn't much better. Nobody wants to talk about Anime, animals, videogames, pop culture, or anything Jaiden finds fun. So she finds herself a weird outcast, and outcasts are targets for bullies.

She’s constantly being picked on by bratty rich girls at school and in her neighborhood for her interests and behavior. They are making sure Jaiden understands that bubbly, excitable, and loud people are not welcome in their town. Jaiden tries her best to ignore them and not take it seriously, but over time those words begin to take a toll on her emotionally. Jaiden no longer enjoys learning at school, she's always anxious awaiting for someone to call her a freak again. For most classes, she's picked on even by teachers. Except for her P.E class, more specifically, Track. Jaiden can run very fast, and is even titled with being the fastest kid in her school.

Her excellence in her Track lessons are one of the few things her family and others praise her on. But it isn't all she wants to be. Jaiden truly doesn't want to have a career in Track, or inherit her family’s wealth and business. She just wants to be her own person, and help as many people as she can. This is even why with the money her parents give her, she uses a bit of it to donate to charities. She loves the feeling of being helpful and making people happy, so that is what she devotes her life to doing. Now, if only she had people to help. Jaiden is very lonely, all she wishes is to have people who are not boring “npc” snobs to hang out with. She manages to make some online friends, but they aren't quite enough to fill the hole in her sociable soul.

Until a couple days after her parents left for their business trip, she spotted five cosplayers in her backyard.

Fun fact: Jaiden was originally going to be a Mystreet oc, but I decided to make her a MiD oc because I fell out of the Mystreet fandom. I also think she fits a little better in MiD, especially with the story I've given her.

Y'all will be seeing a lot more about her and her relationship with the Daemos in the future! Bye pookiesss! :D

[frickingnerd]

a friend for a friend

pairing: kiyotaka ishimaru x gn!reader

summary: after mondo killed chihiro, both you and taka suddenly lose your best friends. in an attempt to get revenge, you try to kill taka. but is this really what you want…?

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, attempted murder, suicidal tendencies, lots of chihiro & mondo talk, enemies to friends, happy ending

“i never thought you'd have it in you to kill someone…”

taka looked up at you, not a hint of fear or anger in his eyes. you were holding a knife to his throat, but he didn't seem to feel anything. while you were burdened with so many emotions that it was killing you!

“this is revenge… i have to do this…”

your hand was trembling. was it fear? anger? how come you felt all those things, while taka didn't have to? why were you the one suffering after losing your best friend, while taka lost his, yet didn't seem to feel anything at all?

“you'll be just like him. do you think chihiro would've wanted this?”

you dug the knife into taka's skin at his words. you couldn't bear hearing him say their name. ever since chihiro's death, that name has brought you nothing but pain.

“shut up! don't say that name–! you don’t have the right to say that name–!”

you pulled back your knife, before thrusting it into the ground next to taka's face. but he didn't even flinch.

“you… you'll pay for his sins! i can't kill mondo, but i can kill you! and… i'll do it–! he took my best friend and i'll take his…”

“if this brings you peace… then do it”

taka still didn't seem to care. no, perhaps he wanted you to kill him. he didn't seem to care about his own life anymore. for a moment, you wondered if he suffered just like you did. that he wished he was dead, just like his best friend…

but then you tossed that thought aside and grabbed the knife again.

slowly, you wrapped both hands around it. you raised them, right above his chest. and then you waited. waited for something. something that would give you the strength to do it.

but you couldn't.

“FUCK–!!”

you screamed frustrated, tossing the knife aside. this was the perfect moment. all you had to do was drive your knife into his chest and it would've been over. but you couldn't do it. you couldn't kill someone. especially not taka.

tears began to roll down your cheeks.

“i knew you weren't a killer…”

taka slowly sat up. you could feel his eyes on you, but you had buried your face in your hands, as you couldn't seem to stop your tears.

“i… i never wanted to hurt you. i just want the pain to stop… i can't take this anymore…”

taka's head hung low as he heard your words. you were just like him. only that, in attempting to stop the pain, you tried to get revenge, while taka wanted to repent for his best friend's crime.

“i found my first friend in mondo… but when he died, i was all alone again. i can't forgive him for what he did… but a part of me wishes he was still here”

your sobbing only became worse at taka's words. you had felt like nobody could understand you. but taka was the only person that could. both of you lost your best friends that day…

“i wish… it didn't have to be like this…”

you mumbled out, as your tears began fewer with each passing minute.

“i wish they could've been friends… chihiro trusted mondo… more than he trusted me. if only they could've been friends…”

taka nodded quietly. he felt the same way. if mondo and chihiro would've been friends, none of this would've ever happened. perhaps, you and him would've become friends too.

“do you think… we could still be friends?”

“what are you saying…?”

taka paused for a moment.

“mondo and chihiro never got to be friends. but we could do what they can't”

it was silent for a moment. the tears in your eyes had dried, as you let taka's words go through your head. you could do what chihiro and mondo never could. but their wish for friendship could live on through taka and you.

“i'm sure we can be friend”

you finally broke the silence, smiling softly.

“i think that's what they would've wanted…”